Footbound (Chapter 19) (Patreon)

“Imagine what a fool you would have been to refuse this,” came Eve’s echoing chortle, while her catastrophically humongous bare foot caressed and pumped her shrunken bedbound host’s gratefully quivering form. “To refuse me.”

“Yes. Such a fool,” Mitch droned back to her in his mind, and didn’t even have to massage the truth to appease his keeper. The previous night, he’d gone to bed in fear of his own dreams like a coward, but this time, he couldn’t wait to dive into bed the minute the sun set. His spirit was willing this time, and it made all the difference, just as she’d taught him. Laying facedown in the sheets, his limbs splayed for sacrifice to her higher power, it seemed like only seconds passed before he was experiencing amorous pressure from both sides. The transformation of conscious reality around him was even more invisible tonight. He never sensed the moment he was miniaturized in the void, or when Eve began to push him down into the mattress with her nightly-expanding sole, nor the scrunching manipulation she performed using those magic arch furrows to squinch his boxers back down his legs for access to his seed dispenser. She was just suddenly present and above him where she rightfully belonged, or rather the only part of “her” that Mitch had been allowed to touch, see, or taste yet. But all that mattered now was the moment-to-moment ecstasy as the flexing flesh pleats of her possibly-infinite underfoot lands rolled pliably over his standing member like a gentle foamy tide lapping at shoreline, while an insignificant distance higher, his gasping jaws puckered and licked and even gnawed with all the worshipful passion his tiny fragile frame could muster.

Those cosmic flavors of creamed vanilla and sweat, exotic plant life and lust, had compounded again to such a salivating fulfilling degree that Mitch honestly began to believe that he could survive exclusively on a diet of her foot’s aroma and tincture greeting his tongue and airways. Before, he’d wondered how it was possible to breathe normally while buried so wholly under the warm living-clay sky of her delicate moon-kissed skin, the sole simultaneously muscular enough to pulverize him to pulp with a deeper press, but sufficiently tender still that if Mitch let his thoughts drift yet further, he might not be able to distinguish Eve’s muggy claustrophobic sole-jacking from the freedom of swimming in cool open water. Yet now he understood that, in slumber, the giantess had replaced his need for oxygen with an unquenchable thirst for her essence, which he greedily suckled like piglet from every overlapping peach wrinkle that masturbatorily kneaded past his lips. The greater danger would in fact be to have her monolithic foot peel off and away from him, leaving Mitch stranded and vulnerable and probably choking in the lonesome blackness created by her exit. He could only hope she didn’t abandon him until the job was finished and his next “payment” given, and even then he would mourn her.

It had truly never occurred to Mitch until now that he could feel this warm and wanted, this perfectly fed through every sense, and this sexually enlightened inside each cell of his puny body with equal fervor, as though he’d become an organic battery of carnal energy that only burned hotter with each of the hundreds of rhythmic back-and-forth strokes this blessed foot had committed upon him tonight alone. Though he no longer “saw” with his eyes the same rippling hue-blushing details in her foot from ball to heel while she stood upon him at such scale, in the way he’d enjoyed the view during those tempting early nights of gazing-but-no-touching, Mitch instead realized that the combination of his other perceptions all working in beloved congress for Eve could instead create an even more vivid ever-shifting roadmap of her sole. By inhales, tongue-scours, and hip-humping, the soaring landscape formed of her every curve and crease took crystal-clear form in his mind’s eye, seemingly realer than even the best looks he’d snuck from Lilina in the waking world through the smoky veil of those stocking strings stretched across her beauty.

Mitch had become almost as one with the motion of Eve’s foot by now, its scents and textures and heat, allowing him to vivaciously anticipate the next firming of the gridlined arch slope due to bowing boulder-toes, the oncoming especially-salty puff of celestial cakey perfume from her pores, and the oscillating of its pulse-pounding climate back toward once-frightful but ultimately pleasantly smothering feverishness. In this way, the experience strangely was felt on multiple dimensions again, not just in exploring her foot from both up close and faraway at once, but in a string of moments in time as well all compressed together, with every one of those euphoric bursts felt several times over in the most stimulatingly intimate and mind-blowingly vast ways. Each invigorating thrust by Eve’s meaty groove-enriched arch across his undeserving erection nub, as well as every other vulnerably naked piece of him, plus the surfing of his miniscule tongue through equally-wonderful divots in her transformative sugar-sour pheromoned foot flesh, brought with it a fount of everything Mitch could’ve ever wanted or needed for worthwhile life: it was a banquet, it was music, it was salvation, and it was an exponentially more erotic experience than he could’ve ever conceived without her ownership of him.

“You are so near now,” Eve tolled in a voice that could’ve shaken the heavens. Her foot seemed to expand even broader atop of Mitch, so massive that he would’ve feared becoming lost in the yawning valley of a single peach-glinting sole wrinkle, if he wasn’t so deep in her spiral already. “You have ventured so far and become so much less your own, as you are meant to. And though you struggled briefly, giving in to old thinking while depriving yourself of your purpose, you have seen the way forward now. It is in your grasp, just as you are within mine. This is the penultimate step. The final preparation before your joining. Your soul will cleave to my essence, absorbed, nourishing me, and in return, you will discover the meaning you have always sought, and the pleasures even greater. Now, with the same spirit that you devoted your every thought to my soles, pay your seed – and yourself – to me. Finish, for my foot.”

Fully committed at this utter apex of underfoot bliss, Mitch spasmed to obey her.

And then everything came crashing down.

As though he’d woken up behind the wheel of a truck just before it hurtled off a bridge, Mitch’s peal of moaning was only entirely pleasurable for the first nanosecond of his release to the giant foot stamped over him, before his orgasm was joined by something new, and his cry turned to one of existential confusion. Hollowing and completely consuming at once. It wasn’t quite pain, and in fact didn’t “hurt” in the slightest, though Mitch wished it had. A stomachache or a kick to the balls could be understood, at least. There was no frame of reference for what he was feeling now, but it terrorized him nonetheless. What made it all the wilder was that he could still feel the goodness of her colossal foot’s cock-kneading charity even now, though intertwined yin-and-yang-style with the impression that he’d been pitted like a fruit. He wished to cry out, to disconnect himself from the creamy moon-blessed burden of her ample arch that seemed now to stretch more than a mile in all directions from where his nakedness stayed sensuously adhered to it, but neither of these goals was possible. Mitch was overcome by the sensation that he’d been emptied out like a deflated balloon, the very husk of his naked body becoming thinner and thinner by the second, until he would’ve blown away by the gust of a single exhale, if he wasn’t so firmly rooted now in this diminishing ever-paltry state like a wet sticker conforming to the rimples of Eve’s sole. If the feeling kept up, he might just melt straight into her foot, with the last whiny gasp of his climax being his final will and testament.

Screw dreams, screw fetishes, and screw whatever “seemed” unreal: Mitch knew in his core, right then and there, maybe for the first time, that this was happening to him. There was no telling how much the façade of Eve’s demanding aura and impossibly immaculate sole were just figments of his overinflated yearnings, but once the little sleeper felt this frightfully authentic internal nothingness taking hold and spreading so fast, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that something inside him was changing, and dramatically for the worse. Whether Eve was an actual entity or just the manifestation of deepening madness, “she” was doing exactly as she’d vowed. Mitch’s soul was coming untethered from him, and getting gummed up in the flexing flesh ridges of her lust-baked arch, until she was practically wearing it – and him – like a tiny tattoo.

And even as everything seemed hopeless in this moment, horrific and assured, Mitch remembered what Eve had just told him in her pre-cum pronouncement. She’d said this was his second-to-last payment before he was entirely hers. Which meant, for whatever zany biblical reason, that she couldn’t take him now. Not yet. Not tonight. There was still one chance left not to give in. Having truly no concept of where he found the will to move, except by divine intervention, Mitch gave a pitiful roar and endeavored with his whole consciousness to fling himself toward safety. It certainly wasn’t physical strength which allowed him to divorce his satiated shape from Eve’s foot, because a thousand of same-sized others could’ve also been trapped under her sole here with him, all pushing against her weight as a unit, and she still would’ve effortlessly squashed their attempts. But still he felt himself separating from the warm silky not-so-goodness of that eternally broad sole and its tessellating creases, falling further and further away into the cold beyond, the more he believed that he still had this singular opportunity for redemption remaining.

“What is this?” Eve demanded, imperiously as she had when last scolding his ingratitude. That heart-stopping roar of hers enveloped Mitch again, while he watched her foot above seem to chase him through the void. It grew and grew, expanding past every comparable scale reference he could imagine, until the little escapee could’ve been but a grain of beach sand stowed unknowingly in one of the gleaming salt-bathed flesh furrows of her arch for God-knew how long. Still, it didn’t press down into him again. “What… are… you… DOING?”

“I’m s-sorry,” he tearfully whimpered, and meant it, whether or not Eve was real. Mitch was tumbling faster now through the emptiness of this sleepy foot-worshipping realm, getting further from the object of his obsession even as it enlarged, and still savoring the memory of that devoted and climactic period of paradise with her astronomic sole even while knowing that to be fucked by it one more time would be to surrender his whole self on every layer of reality. “P-Please… d-don’t be mad. I c-can’t… I won’t f-forget you.”

“As if you have a CHOICE!” Eve seethed. There wasn’t just disappointment and self-assured surliness in her voice now, as Mitch had heard when displeasing her before, but total volcanic rage surging out of her immense presence. Even though all he could see of her now was the bottom of her foot, and in fact had still never comprehended any part of Even above the ankles, there was fury in the dreamy atmosphere enough to make it seem as though an incensed god was hovering overhead in the ether to strike down a mortal civilization with a single footfall. It was like her voice had become a unified choir, a shrieking trill and baritone growl at once, along with every other pitch on the spectrum. Slowly the colorless nothingness all around Mitch and that moon-dewy flesh sky of arch slope began to glow with a distinct swell of sanguine red. “Do you believe that I am MERCIFUL? That I accept the refusal of a weak-minded soul, once it has begun to GIVE itself to me? Do you think this pathetic faithless INSULT to the one who has given you EVERYTHING will do anything but delay what was, is, and always has been inevitable?”

Mitch was full-on weeping now for the necessary loss of this most precious gift of Eve’s ginormous soul-eating feet, not to mention the inherent fright that came of falling at glacial pace in a crimson abyss while the owner of a country-sized sole screamed at him with Old Testament ferocity. All he could do was close his eyes while the ethereal giantess’s denouncements carried on louder and louder, not at all certain that he would be survive this, and focus on the foreign-seeming feeling of laying in his bed at a natural size, clothed and safe, without the sultriest set of naked peds he’d ever dreamed slipping below the covers again to tame him. Unlike the previous nights in service to Eve, Mitch didn’t lose track of where his consciousness began and ended, but knew that he’d “won” only when his eyes snapped open as he physically thrust himself out of bed. Crashing to the floor in a clammy jittery heap, he panted as though spread-eagle in the desert, then scrambled toward the light switch, knocking objects to the floor in his dire impatience, and only let himself really breathe again once the lamplight was burning his dilated pupils, and Eve’s foot was nowhere to be seen.

It was over.