For Richer, For Smaller (Chapter 3) (Patreon)

To Tony’s triumphant delight, though he didn’t let it show in his fragile Bambi-eyed countenance, he could already recognize the cracks in his wife’s armor forming, much like what he’d noticed the first time he ever entreated her to walk on him at six-foot-three so long ago. Her stiff-lipped glassy-eyed defiance was softening, with most of her perhaps-rational fears melting away once he gave her a fleeting taste of his cuddlier emotionally-vulnerable side that he knew all too well she loved to see in him, which was precisely why Tony only saved its revelation for special occasions like this. She bit her lip, mulling his words over and likely trying to talk herself out of them still, even as his undeniable reasoning took hold of her. It was simple: he’d always provided well for her, and in return, she’d always been ready and willing to do whatever his heart desired. And even though he’d expected some resistance upon divulging this pinnacle of his trample-happy footaholic life, at no point was there the slightest doubt in Tony’s mind that Lillian would eventually give him what he needed, like any good wife should.

“I… don’t want to take something away from you that you’ve… t-thought a lot about… even though I never knew about it before,” Lillian uncertainly mustered. She shook her head now, almost resolutely, which worried Tony. Why hadn’t she cracked already? The tears were returning to her eyes in full force, as she must’ve been battling within against what Tony had so craftily laid out as her spousal duty. “But you can’t ask me to do this. A-Anything else you want, I’ll support you. Even this… s-shrinking thing, I can… understand, I… suppose. M-Maybe. Stepping on you, though, like this, I… it’s too far, Tony. I’m so s-sorry, but it’s too much. To even t-think of what could happen to you if I did that, when you’re this small and light and… it would be my f-fault if something happened! I couldn’t LIVE with myself! Please, I do love you more than anything and w-want you to be happy and have everything you’ve w-worked so hard for, but… I can only take so much. God, what am I saying, YOU can only “take” so much at this size! D-Don’t you realize you’re asking me to risk… c-crushing you forever? How could I… how could you ever-”

“Shhhh…” Tony interrupted with a lullaby. His voice was gentle as he more urgently fondled his wife’s giant fingers in effort to assuage her, though internally, he harbored some frustration. In truth, he’d expected to be under her feet by this point, not still making a wishy-washy case for this ultimate achievement he’d waited so long for and spent so lavishly upon, yet Lillian was being more difficult about this than he’d estimated. He certainly cared very much for her, and Christ those immaculate feet of hers were the stuff of godlike wet dreams, but she really was being unreasonable now, Tony decided. But apparently, he had to bring out the big guns. Shredding his voice to a croak, the six-incher fell humbly to his knees, gripping Lillian’s thumb for dear life, and turned on his own waterworks: a pathetic last-resort that would’ve secretly embarrassed him, if it didn’t conveniently make for mood-setting foreplay leading into the erotically disempowering underfoot burial he was so determined to receive. “Lil. Babe. Please. Please. Don’t say that. I can’t even express to you how much this means to me, how important it is, that you do this. It’s… everything. You’re right. I am smaller now, and maybe more… crushable… but I’ve always felt safe with you, not just because I know you wouldn’t hurt me, but because you’re my rock. You make me feel… brave enough to push boundaries and cross new frontiers. And maybe I should’ve told you how badly I wanted this before I actually did it, but the truth is, hon, I was too afraid. I was… ashamed. I know it’s different, strange even, and it seems dangerous, but the only way I was able to go through it was knowing that I’d still feel safe with you when things were finally “switched” to the way I always wanted them: safe under your feet, and safe in… showing you this side of me. The real me. So… please. I’m begging you, my… love. I… need… this.”

Tony almost felt like he needed to brush his teeth after the questionably-honest saccharine fluff of that speech. Granted, she did mean a lot to him, but it was only his sexual desperation which allowed him to sell such a massive hyperbole. He hadn’t even been so flowery when giving his wedding vows. But then again, deep down, this moment meant more to him than the legal procedure which had ensured his lifelong access to Lillian’s pedicured assets, so it only made sense to go all-out. As expected, the shrinker’s go-big-or-go-home appeal succeeded this time. Lillian sighed with world-weariness, wiped her eyes again while her miniature husband compassionately cuddled her hand, and then gulped like she’d just ingested something horrifically sour.

“All right,” she whimpered. “I’ll… I’ll do it. I’ll put my foot on you, Tony. But I CAN’T stand on you all the way. It could break us both. Just… here. While I’m sitting. Okay?”

“Of course,” Tony gratefully replied, knowing full-well he’d simply negotiate her out of that term when the time came. He planted numerous kisses on Lillian’s thumb, embracing it and still-nonchalantly bumping his pants tent into her. “God, what would I do without you, Lil?”

Three very-long minutes later, Tony was ferried down to the floor in the palm of his wife’s hand (which itself took some over-cautious acclimation on her part) and laid flat on the kitchen tile. Quickly, however, Lillian declared that she couldn’t do this to him on a hard surface, and went off to retrieve the thickest-padded rug in the house, which now acted as nesting for the shrinker. At long last he found himself harmoniously penned in on either side by the sandy-blonde homemaker titaness’s enormous size-8s. He thought he’d adored them enough before, but now able to admire them at such behemoth scope, Tony could feel himself falling in love with those feet all over again to an exponential degree. Watching those lovely smooth-bulbed toes pressed into the rug fibers, and those warm milky-soft insteps nestled so close to his six-inch frame, it was all he could do to keep himself from leaping aboard one of them and humping himself unconscious. But the best was yet to come, and having practically sold his soul to convince Lillian into this, he couldn’t quit now for anything.

“Okay, I’m… doing it now,” she reticently announced, still evidently laboring over this act, but unable to resist her husband’s expert persuasion tactics. Sure enough, Lillian’s left foot lifted off the poofy rug and was brought to hover an inch over where her tiny spouse was rapturously splayed. Just as he’d dreamed, the shadow of that dainty yet meaty arch slope entirely consumed his insignificant form, its mildly-stuffy atmosphere and afternoon perspiration-glinted aromas already palpable. And though Tony was deeply familiar with viewing his wife’s sole up-close from the ground, naturally it was revolutionary to do so from a scale where every ample contour, complexion hue, gratuitous flesh-crease, and skin cell was visible upon the stark organic tapestry of Lillian’s underfoot brawn. Actual tears, not just the ones he’d theatrically summoned before, were almost brought to his eyes over the sheer beauty and sensually hypnotic quality of his wife’s foot. What a masterpiece.

“Wow…” he gasped, mind-blown, before she’d even touched him.