Time-Out: Nancy's Way (Chapter 4) (Patreon)

Then Nancy’s smiling countenance rose too high for Scott to make out, and was replaced by the incoming view of her lithe gargantuan bare foot. Considering he had more experiences under this woman than any of Judy’s other social circle, the precise anatomic geometry of her smooth dexterous toes, curvy instep, and supple peach undersole were effectively stamped into the shrinker’s mind already. There were no surprises when it came to the actual sight of Nancy Dugan’s naked ped, nor in the confident urgency of its approach as it practically hurtled into the not-quite-vacant shoe. But again, as when he was forced to strip nude, the feeling of watching that greedy recently-pedicured foot barrel toward him in the increasing shadow of her prison-like black mule was recontextualized by Scott’s utter solitude here, with no possible backup from anyone, for seventy-two hours straight. And, considering she couldn’t see him while putting on her shoe, the boy felt no guilt in allowing his knees to quake and his eyes to bug just before her flexed-out giant toes overtook him. No matter how much practice he had, this part never became much easier.

The pillowy bulbs of those pinkish-tan digits rose up just in time to avoid directly bulldozing into Scott, instead covering and gently clutching him to the spongy underside shafts, while sweeping him deeper along the used insole, until they’d arrived at the pointed apex of the footwear’s interior, furthest from the light and claustrophobically walled in from almost every side by shoe lining. Now with her immense ped settled cozily back into the mule, Nancy audibly sighed in contentment, then set the clacking treads back on the floor, not quite standing on the boy yet while she remained in the armchair, but allowing him to take on a diluted portion of her towering mass through her busily writhing toes. The one-incher wasn’t exactly as packed into the basically-blind flesh-hugged space, as he sometimes was when Judy or Maggie chose to wear him in-shoe at more like two or three inches tall instead. Yet the overwhelming déjà vu of finding himself beneath the mercy of Nancy’s long yet meaty-textured toes once again, when his naked body was equal to and in some cases smaller than each one, replaced the illusion of being stuffed into a coffin with good old-fashioned loathsome powerlessness.

The giantess didn’t immediately take this opportunity to rise and commence walking about the house with her crammed-in occupant barely reacclimated to the feeling of her ample toe flesh tautly embraced across his buck-nude frontside. Though within a minute, Scott actually wished Nancy would start walking on him, because at least such activity would likely prevent her from performing the agile near-masterful work on him that she took up instead while peacefully seated. Without wasting a moment, her toes began kneading atop her one-inch charge: not too ferociously or in any way that would uncomfortably wrestle him against the insole to the point of rugburns, but also using plenty of practiced firmness. Back and forth, Nancy’s probing digits splayed and then contracted again, as if she was relaxingly gripping blades of grass out in a field, and all the while robustly massaging the young man’s exposed physique, flesh-to-warm-flesh.

Naturally the internal climate of the shoe had jumped by at least twenty degrees after her foot re-entered, simulating that much-too-familiar feeling for Scott of being made to lie down in a private unclean sauna with the lights switched off and the humidity cranked up. The comparatively milder array of scents he’d perceived at first, before being joined by her toes, was still there in all its sharp loamy leather-sticky glory, only now amped up by the roastier temperature, and joined as well by the much-more present essence of the giantess’s vibrant foot itself. The traces of seductive perfume and herbal body oil he’d picked up before came on in a much stronger dose now, mixed with a sickly honey-sweetness. There was a palpable moisture to Nancy’s pithy undertoe skin, a fraction of which had to be morning mule sweat judging by the funky smell, but the dampness was too persistent to simply be all perspiration, unless the woman had just worked out without showering afterward. There was no question that she’d made a point of heavily lubricating her feet with lotion before Scott’s arrival, in anticipation of this moment. And though the aura of those various hygienic scrubs should have been welcome, like a sugary aftertaste to follow the bitter medicine of feminine sweat and insole decay, the enclosure of the space and the unyielding movement of Nancy’s toes ensured that it all instead amassed into a singular shoe-entrapped musk: not quite nauseating, but definitely not desirable, and altogether overpowering for Scott not even five minutes into his latest sentence below her.

“You just fit like a glove in there, don’t you, dear?” Nancy announced loudly enough for her voice to penetrate the muffling vessel of her mule. She seemed to make a point of spreading her silky lightly-oiled toes before speaking, just to ensure this gratified statement made it all the way between the tender digit crevices and reached Scott’s ears, before promptly grappling and fondling his body again. “I suppose it must not be your favorite place in the world to spend your time. Tucked down in someone’s shoe, no matter how chic and in-season that shoe happens to be, like mine. But, take it from me, hon: a big part of growing up is learning that sometimes you just have to do certain things because you fit in well there, and you have certain talents that make you most-apt for that spot. More than most other people. It may not be a place you think you wantto be, because you haven’t discovered the right mindset for it yet, but… you still end up there, one way or another. Because you fit. There’s no shame to be had in it. Everyone has something different to offer the world, after all.”

Scott was already developing a pit in his gut from the regrettably titillating soft-skinned assault from Nancy’s toes grinding so smoothly across him, but that pit turned into a knot once she started rambling at him in a voice just a little too sultry to be purely educative. Almost daring him to give in. Being talked at in this condescending self-righteous fashion while being shrunkenly degraded at someone’s feet was so much his mother Judy’s specialty that she probably could’ve written a book on it, so this was far from uncharted territory for the one-inch boy, but to have to hear the same thing from Nancy was especially obnoxious.

Only in this moment did Scott recognize another humongous downside of being alone here with her, aside from the fact that there was no one to save him if she went off the deep end: ordinarily, while the overly-promiscuous giantess toyed with him like she was now, she was in a room full of chatty friends, and so at least could outwardly pretend for a while that she didn’t have a miniature naked inmate plastered to the bottoms of her lukewarm rosy-cushioned toes and gyrating against his will each time she rubbed the shoe-smelly flesh back across his miniscule groin. The other ladies present would normally distract her with conversation, and protect Scott from being talked at while his libido spiked. Now, though, it was just the two of them, and Nancy apparently had just as few qualms about openly lecturing and teasing her victim in the middle of seductively violating him.