Sole Summoning (Patreon)

As desperately as I had hoped, I didn’t truly believe the ritual would actually work until I was standing in her presence: none other than the legendary witch Medea, with dark piercing eyes and long black hair like midnight storm clouds. She was dressed paradoxically in a simple white robe like any commoner, yet adorned with golden jewelry from her ears and around her neck. Humbled by her appearance, and scarcely believing that I’d actually done brought her here, I immediately sunk to my knees, while my gaze didn’t dare rise above her ankles.

This of course was how I noticed that Medea was barefoot, that her complexion was smooth and peach-creamy, that her soles were broad and thick upon the earth, and that her toes were painted dark blue like precious stones. Having been banished into the woods by my village just for having faith in myths such as the famed witch, I had tried manifesting her here in hopes that she might take pity on me and help me survive the wilderness. Yet after one glance at those feet, survival became the last thing on my mind.

“Hello, Andre,” Medea whispered. Her voice was kind, sultry even, and more hypnotic than I’d expected. Truthfully, even if the summoning was a success – and I had doubts – there was no telling whether she would arrive angry at me for bothering her. Yet my faith had not only paid off, but the beautiful witch was smiling, with a beguiling twinkle in her eye.

“Y-You know me?” I stammered. My heart pounded in my chest, though I still couldn’t tear my gaze or my increasingly lustful thoughts from those gorgeous feet of hers.

“Of course I do, child. I have felt your need. I have felt your thoughts. I may not be a goddess, but there is power in belief. And you have certainly earned my love for your devotion. You have nothing to fear, because I am here now, and I will take care of you.”

Having said this, much to my relief, Medea reached out, cupping my face with her hand, and then stroked her fingers through my hair. Goose bumps rippled through my body and I swallowed hard, not expecting such good fortune to arise out of my long-shot attempt to summon her. It seemed my woes might have been over. To not only have been vindicated for my belief in Medea, but to have her here in the flesh and promising that she would watch over me, left me ecstatic. And that was before even considering the enchanting allure of her peds, as her toes scrunched soothingly through the loam, and her obviously-wrinkled soles left a smear in the ground as they bent into a deep crescent arch upon the balls of her feet.

Or at least I believed I was fortunate, right until a bizarre violet glow overtook my body, imparted by the witch’s caressing hand straight into my skull, and I felt myself somehow in freefall while on my knees. It didn’t hurt, yet I was terrified, as within seconds, I shrank to the size of a doll, and then even punier: no larger than an insect sprawled in the dirt. Breathless, panicky and a little exhilarated, I stared ahead and found myself shell-shockingly facing the upturned enormity of the now-giantess’s supple meaty sole as it lowered toward me. Despite my fetish, the view of a massive feminine foot comparatively the size of a house hovering overhead, from a position so readily prepared to squash me with only a single step, filled me with dread. I cried out, at a loss for words, and scrambled up to run. But I barely made it three strides before my body was gently yet firmly squeezed into the crevice between Medea’s two biggest toes. The vice of those digits was luxuriously soft, scented of bittersweet sweat and damp earth and herbs that I couldn’t identify, yet dense and pressurized enough to frighten me as I was playfully pinched there, helpless, while the towering witch crooned with strangely maternal laughter above.

“Now, now, child. Just where do you think you’re going? I said you have nothing to fear, including me. Do you really think I would go back on my word so quickly?” Medea questioned, her voice now a thunderous boom, with a teasing lilt in her words. Her toes pulsed around me a few times, feeling like a rough massage, and then released me to the ground again. However, I barely had time to rise to my haunches, more bewildered and scared than ever, when her sole descended once more. This time I found myself pressed spread-eagle against the soil by her gargantuan foot: not enough to hurt, which was impressive considering how miniscule I was, but enough that I could barely squirm under Medea’s larger-than-life sole and all its pithy creases.

“P-Please! Medea!” I begged from under her foot. I writhed for freedom, and although the expansive humid padding of her divoted sole flesh was plush and forgiving in texture, even the restrained weight of her foot was humiliatingly overpowering. “I d-didn’t mean to offend you! I needed help, and I only hoped-”

“Shhhh. You did not know what you needed,” the giantess corrected. She began to rhythmically grind her sole back and forth on top of me, still not sufficient to cause pain, but instead in a manner that was astonishingly stimulating. “But I know. You need food and water and shelter, yes, and these things you will have. I can conjure them for you with only a thought. But what you truly NEED is something you have longed for all your life, yet never had the courage to ask aloud for to any mortal woman. Luckily for you, I am far beyond mortal. I saw your desire for beautiful feet even before you summoned me, and I knew you would savor mine just as they deserve. And you will savor them, in return for my care. See now the gifts that your faith has brought you. Do not fight it, child.”

After another violet flash of Medea’s magic, the clothes vanished right off my shrunken body. In my hectic fright, I’d mostly forgotten my attraction to the witch’s feet, but my anatomy plainly hadn’t. Sure enough, my tiny manhood was not only perked fully erect and hugged into a squishy wrinkle ravine on the giantess’s spacious sole, but throbbing with the greatest thirst I’d ever felt. Everything about Medea’s foot, from its luscious contours and earthy aroma to its beefy terrain and magnificent heft, made it the most mesmerizingly erotic and dazzling thing I had ever beheld. And now that my clothes were gone, the witch’s controlled sole-sweeping brushes became a highly titillating footjob.

With my fear forgotten, and reveling in Medea’s all-too-right haughtiness, I let out a moan of gratitude while surrendering my tiny body completely to her foot’s whims. My limbs lit up with euphoria and my nethers tremored each time that milky silken canvas of her humongous sole so gracefully passed over my raging erection, though really my entire self was so suffused with appreciation for this magical culmination of all my fetishistic obsession, that it felt like my whole body instead was ready to burst from pleasure. I happily licked and massaged her skin in return every time Medea’s sole shifted again, including when she tauntingly reintroduced me to that tender groove between her toes for an even cozier loin-rubbing squeeze, and was left nearly faint from excitement and allegiance to this perfect bewitching goddess. Barely a few minutes had passed since the giantess had accepted me as both her motherly charge and her sexual plaything. And yet I knew already – well before reaching the most blissful orgasm of my life – that I would spend the rest of my days in glad devotion to Medea, only hoping to spend more time enraptured beneath her colossal benevolent feet.

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THE END