How could a man's feet produce so much sweat? She didn't understand it. Didn't most of it have to be absorbed by his insole? How was there still so fucking much? She sucked and slurped and even inhaled it, or so it felt, because the very air around her held his thick aroma, like it was infused with sweaty aerosol. She couldn't even begin to guess how much of that stuff went into her body, how much of it was swirling around in her stomach and how much would coat her lungs in a wet layer (was that even how it worked?). It certainly felt like she was getting permeated by it. She would always smell it on herself, she new.

And her eyes were tearing up, attacked by the offensive acridity; her tongue felt so dry that it would probably not even work for something basic... like, it was probably not wet enough to help part the edges of a fresh-of-the-roll plastic bag or the pages of a book seldomly opened. It was degrading not just in the mind, but in the body. Her tiny, petite body could not take it for long, she new. She was so puny, so weak, fragile, even tender, that having to do this for too long would take it's toll. Her mouth would be dirty and bloodied, her insides would be damaged by the sweat, she'd probably have trouble breathing - hell she already felt like her sinuses and trachea were full of moist fog! Her hair was a mop, her skin was shiny, and a piece of lint got stuck in her ear, and it was so gross to the touch that she couldn't bring herself to remove it.

She could not believe how absolutely pathetic the shrinking had made her. It would be too much to bear, but she still had enough willpower to keep doing it, because, she knew, if she stopped, he would do something bad, something that would make the sweat-slurping duty seem nice by comparison. It would be so easy for him to completely destroy her in some humiliating, degrading fashion - so easy! She couldn't even imagine what it could be, but she was terrified of the possibilities, because in that moment Ben's power seemed absolute and incomprehensible; the toes above her could probably break her in a thousand ways, in a thousand places, maiming, ripping and tearing her, and while right now she was in a sorry state, she was still intact...

"Good, good, Leah".

There, he said it again. The words gave her hope. If she's good, there's a chance he'll give her a break, so that she can serve him again in the future. If she's good, then maybe she's not quite as pathetic as she thought, because, after all, even being a tiny bug she can do something that satisfies him. What a thought! The man was degrading her to a degree she'd never even conceive to be possible - what sick mind could imagine something like it? - but she wanted to live, wanted to be safe, and, if she's allowed to dream, maybe even be normal-sized again...

She leaned in for another hearty lick - and suddenly his foot lifted as he pulled his leg up. He rested the foot she serviced atop his other knee, inspecting his toes. His other foot pressed against the floor, and she heard May yelp in the distance as her companion in distress was pressed tightly against the floor, pinned by the offensive toes. Leah jerked: maybe she should have helped her friend... but she stayed where she was. As far as she was concerned, at this point it was every woan for herself. If she can please the guy and May can't, why would she risk her own well-being?

Suddenly, a hand extended towards her from above; she collected herself, but still screamed hoarsely when he lifted her up. His trunk-like fingers playfully bent her almost in half - her back protested, but Leah was pretty flexible. Then, he dropped her; she fell face first onto his wrinkly sole. The flesh was sweaty here, too, and so she almost automatically pressed her lips against it and sucked the perspiration in, thinking this was what he wanted. But, instead, his fingers carelessly flipped her on her back. Then, with one finger he pressed on her chest, pinning her against the sole and forcing to look into his face, looming far above.

"You're a good girl", he said. "Really. Tell me, why'd you shrink yourself? For real?"

"I..."

He pressed down with that finger, squeezing the air out of her; she found that she couldn't breathe in. She choked on what she was about to say, went red in the face, automatically tried to fight his finger with both her arms, but no luck there... She kicked with her legs; no effect, either.

He released the pressure - only slightly, but enough. She hungrily inhaled the air, her abused lungs hurting.

"Wait, I think I know", he said slowly, and then pressed again, forcing her to exhale and preventing her from breathing again. "I can see you're at a loss of words, anyways... See I told you, some girls just live for this. They don't always know it, but they just need it. My buddy Scott has a girlfriend who really needed it. She was such a bitch full-sized, then once she asked him to dom her, he did this - and voila".

The finger relented, and Leah inhaled rapidly, in tiny gasps, feeling nauseous and shocked. She'd never even learned to swim. Never got used to having to hold her breath.

"You're like that, aren't you, Leah? You just wanted to get shrunk".

He pressed down, harder than before; she heard his other foot slap! against the floor somewhere in the distance, and once again May screamed.

"You've always felt like a girl like you just needs a guy to put you in your proper place", he mused, and as she couldn't breathe it seemed to her like his face got bigger. "All else was a lie. You just knew that you should be a tiny sweat-slurping bitch serving a man's feet. You were into mine, right? How creepy. But I don't judge".

He let her take a breath - and squeezed it right back out. Leah wanted to scream, but all that escaped past her lips was a weak, quiet call for help. Her vision was going dark.

"Proper little girl, good little slave", he declared, smiling. "Well, Leah, I am demanding, but, do a good job, and I'll allow you to stay. I'll let you live in my care. That's what you want, right? That's all you want. You want to worship the fucking ground I walk on. You dream of going back in that shoe. Don't you, Leah?"

Once again, he relented, and once again, she could barely breathe - and so she did, and, in the meantime, panicked, she manage to nod and speak out a humble "yes". There was a fire in his eyes, she noticed. He was really, really into this. And perhaps he'd been right, too. She shrunk herself so... naively, but now she was in a life or death predicament, and agreeing to everything he was saying felt like a way to agree to the life part. As degraded as she felt, as painful as it was to step over her own pride, the dominant, overwhelming way he'd asserted himself with her held power that she could not deny.

"I knew it", he smiled. "Well, you're in luck. I'll let you spend some chunk of your miserable life licking my feet, Leah. You can be my shrunken footwipe. My favorite subhuman in the room. Always nice to run across a girl like you".

He took the finger off and nudged her - and once again she was face first against his sole, sheepishly sticking her tongue out and licking, licking, licking. He reclined again, tapping his other foot on the floor, and Leah could only guess what pain May was going through. But, in all honestly, that did not concern her too much, because she had to make good on what she'd just agreed to. Part of her was horrified; what would come out of this? but another part accepted her place in this strange hierarchy where he was the dominant, hunky, alpha Man, and she was a tiny bitch lapping up his foot sweat. It just didn't seem like things even could be different between them.