Life Changes (Chapter 13) (Patreon)

I was dumbfounded. Sure, I was at my smallest size yet now, but I’d already spent some time pampering those same feet, and they weren’t nearly that filthy or sweat-drenched just a short while ago. Yet even from a distance, I could smell the fresh bitter reek, feel the radiating heat wafting toward me, so it wasn’t a mirage.

            “I know what you’re thinking,” Kayla teased. “You’re wondering how I got them all gross again, when I already went to the gym earlier? Since we only have a week to break you, I figured we needed to accelerate your re-education, and squeezed in a few extra squats and lunges while Mom had you. Oh, and I made sure to wear a few extra pairs of socks too, just to make sure things got nice and soupy for you down there. You’re welcome again.”

            “No, no, no,” I muttered to no one in particular. Maybe the universe.

            “Yes, yes, yes,” she taunted. “Get in there, now, and fill your little shrunken tummy up with all that awful gunk. If I don’t feel your tongue on my foot in five seconds, I’m doing a few more sets with the extra socks and you inside, too.”

            That worked. I flung myself down the bouncy slope of her pillow toward the makeshift maw of Kayla’s parted toes. Her big and second digits formed the widest arc of doughy skin, with plenty of room to catch me between. She did exactly that, clamping the flanks of her toes around me as I dove into a wedged position head-first among my future sister-in-law’s sweaty extremities. Immediately I was met with the most pungent, stinging influx of toxic flavors I’d encountered today, and I hadn’t even stuck out my tongue yet, though of course I had to, or risk far worse consequences. Though earlier I might’ve caught a hint of creamy lotion and soap on Kayla’s skin, after this latest round of aerobics, she’d “freshened up” enough to easily overpower any microscopic trace of pleasantry. Every shiny droplet of salty sweat scalded like seawater, every stenchy blob of toejam like a dumpling full of vinegar. I ratcheted my head back and forth sprinkler-style, scraping my exhausted tongue over each rippling swath of muscular, pruny flesh that smelled, tasted, and felt very much like a living bog. Kayla tightened her toes around me, embracing down against the plump yet still-hardy ball of her foot just below, which bent but didn’t yield completely as my body was curled unnaturally against its meaty pad. Each time she clenched like this, fresh sweat washed from her pores, and another loose lint-ball soggily flowed toward my open mouth. Gradually I could perceive the texture of her skin rather than just the marshland quality of sweat seeping over all, and that was when my job was finished there. But I still had seven more openings to go. Grappling me so tight that most of my body vanished between her enclosed toes, Kayla lowered her foot to the floor and passed over its twin, allowing her to transfer me between sets of digits. She released me just long enough to tumble the inch-long fall into another equally swollen, slimy bedding of bunched-up toes.

            I lost track of how long this specific disgrace carried on. I had certainly done a thorough job of cleaning Kayla’s toes, which had been re-sweated purely to put me through another round of hell, but even after I’d visited between every grimy set, she found new ways to use me, gripping me in her digits with my head popped out the top like a toe-ring, then gliding me along her soles while seated in a yogi position on the floor. She seemed to take special delight in introducing me to every sun-kissed nook and cranny of those expansive, deep-arched soles and their renewed power to make me ill through every imaginable human variety of damp, salty, exotic-dairy aroma and accompanying flavor. Each time my bead-sized head was fitted into a furrowed flesh-crease, she’d sweep my proffered tongue along where the skin was softest and most densely soaked with exertion, but then gradually flex her sole in the opposite direction as she pulled me along, ironing out the wrinkles until I could only feel the tough muscle knitted up by the layer beneath her flushed, exercise-puffy skin.

            In time I became aware that Kayla’s toes were no longer grasping me, but my ribs felt so bruised from the continual crushing bear-hug of her toes, she might as well have been. Free barely felt free. Instead I was lying on the carpet between her insteps while the Machiavellian giantess lounged and played with her phone, waiting for me to regain coherency. When I did, I watched her grab the Transmogrifier and blast me with a ray that actually enlarged me to four or five inches tall: a titan in comparison to my former thumbnail-stature, even if I was still just a pipsqueak next to Kayla’s mammoth feet.

            “Almost bedtime, slave,” Kayla informed me. “Congratulations are in order. You’re practically done with the first day! Well, technically part of the first day. Obviously we’re not gonna count half-days. This isn’t a charity. Anyway, I’m sure you’re looking forward to finding out where you’re going to sleep tonight, because you look about ready to conk out, which is good, because I think you’d have trouble falling asleep otherwise. The real David definitely does, as hard as he works to be useful. Get up, now, so I don’t have to hand you over to Ashley instead for the night.”

            Despite the many compelling reasons to remain on my back in a state of physical/emotional depletion, I fought to a stand and turned to look up at the woman who’d goaded me into becoming her personal torture-pet. It really did infuriate me how lovely she was, bearing a strong likeness to her mother and of course Ashley as well, albeit with far more height and muscled bulk, plus the dark hair and eyes. Even at my newly gifted five-inch height, and with Kayla sprawled lazily on the floor with me situated between her bare feet, I still felt so laughably powerless next to her. All she’d have to do was slap her heels together hard enough with me in the middle, something I’m sure she could do with ease, and I’d pop like a jam donut across those tan wrinkled soles.

            “So, ask me already,” she groaned, clearly getting bored with me as I struggled to remain on my shaky legs.

            “W-What?”

            “Ask me where you’re sleeping tonight. Duh-doy.”

            “Oh. W-Where am I-”

            “I thought you’d never ask!” she interrupted with a snap, perking right up again. On either side of me, her beastly feet alternated flexing and scrunching. “I’ve spent the last couple hours taking my time to decide, and you know what, I still can’t totally make up my mind! There’s just too many hilarious places to stick you for the night. I did decide eventually, though, because I’m starting to get tired of looking at your whiny little face for today. Who knows, maybe we’ll change it up later if you don’t seem to be suffering enough. Like they say, it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. But just take my word for it that whatever I’m about to do to you is much nicer than whatever Ashley would do.”