Time-Out: Nancy's Way (Chapter 5) (Patreon)

And on that note, after roughly ten minutes of this sustained in-shoe treatment, during which time Scott did his best to suppress his biology, he eventually couldn’t resist. A stir was working its way out from his core, tingling his extremities and warming him up even worse, and then eventually beginning a telltale pulse of internal pleasure from his loins. He supposed this was what the woman meant by only doing things to him that she “knew” he would enjoy, whether he wanted to or not. To hear her tell it, this was where he fit in the world. And Scott certainly would’ve given anything to avoid involuntarily enjoying this, but unfortunately, Nancy had succeeded in the past at not only stimulating him this way, but conquering him with stolen orgasms, which meant it wasn’t just a one-time fluke. His body was so starved for release, what with all the exhausting sometimes-disgusting hardship he endured at the feet of others, and now with his girlfriend’s essential absence from his life, it didn’t even have the self-preservation sense not to become aroused by the highly-effective toe-scrunching molestation of the giantess he should’ve hated most in all humanity, tied perhaps only with his mother Judy.

The boy’s one-inch stature meant that his rising micro-member didn’t give him away to her immediately, but in time, his traitorous subconscious seemed to remember how lamentably fantastic it felt the last time Nancy masturbated him with her omnipotent foot, and soon his full pinprick erection was prodding up into the pliant sun-kissed flesh between two of the giantess’s toes. She made sure he heard the rumble of her throatily victorious laughter upon noticing this, and paused in actively petting him for only long enough to possessively squash the doughy center of her middle toe’s underbelly down upon his awakened stiffy. Feeling a greater swell of pleasure swim through his head, Scott involuntarily exhaled, probably with enough of a gasp that Nancy felt that puff of affected air on her skin, which she took as a cue to resume manhandling his shrimpy self, with particular back-and-forth attention paid to his crotch. Mentally cursing over the rising pleasure tide, the shrinker had to admit, though he’d never say it aloud: the woman wasn’t just all frisky talk. She knew exactly what she was doing here.

On the homestretch toward the next toe-pulled orgasm, it occurred to Scott, as well, that there was no practical reason for Nancy to wear a shoe like this indoors, within the privacy of her own home. But of course that momentary confusion was followed immediately by the realization of exactly why she’d opted to wear something so stuffy, restrictive, and world-darkening to domineeringly wank him, when she could’ve just as easily gone barefoot. Because Scott was here, he was all hers for three days, she unquestionably enjoyed having his shrunken playable self inside her shoes without the need for pretenses about justice or re-educating him for his wrongdoings, and simply because she could. No other reason was needed.

Against his better judgment, but knowing he was already fighting a badly-losing battle here anyway, Scott began to let his helpless frame obey the humping momentum of Nancy’s toes, squirming in a way that matched her rhythm. He still hated every instant of this activity, emotionally and psychologically, but by this point had accepted that things would turn out easier for him if he just went along with the sexual inevitability, rather than giving her a reason to taunt him further if he resisted first. What would be the purpose in prolonging this time, when there was probably still so much more to dread down the line? And, God help him, an endorphin rush would probably do him some good, no matter the ugly circumstances.

Mere seconds before Scott was ready to finish, however, with cheeks flushed and heart still pounding and his skin beginning to glaze with the moisture from Nancy’s exerted toes, everything suddenly stopped. His hostess’s toes ceased pumping on top of him, and angled all five upward until his overheated little body was no longer pressure-hugged to her tepid leather-and-honey-fragrant flesh. Almost as damaging to Scott’s psyche as the nonconsensual nature of this underfoot encounter was his disappointment that she was stopping so close to the end. As expert as Nancy was at nonchalantly doling out toejobs to extremely small boys stuffed in her shoe, she must also have been able to precisely sense that he was about to bust. Yet her foot was sliding backward out of the mule now without explanation, leaving him with a heady emptiness of unrequited satisfaction that rapidly faded to a weirdly deprived feeling, once it became clear that she wasn’t going to rub him to completion. At least not yet. Abandoned once more in the shoe, ruddy and moistened and still visibly horny, the little guy stared in disbelief toward the mouth of the gigantic leather mule, not sure whether to be grateful, upset, or just-plain confused. He’d wanted Nancy to stop, and yet when she actually did, his runty body was almost in pain from the letdown.

“Yes, I think that counts as getting comfortable…” Nancy declared, picking the shoe up again in her hand and gripping it high enough that she could smile in at her blue-balled captive. Her glossed grin was just as wide as it must’ve been before, while she chuckled and toe-stroked the boy from above. Try as he might to keep his face neutral, Scott knew she must have been able to perceive the sexual frustration in him, which was somehow even more disgraceful than if he’d simply cummed between her digits already. “I told you before, sweetheart. Your time here is going to mark a BIG turnaround for us. I’ll make sure of that. And you’re going to have to earn your keep, from now on. No more freebies. Understand?”

Unsure what response would be any less embarrassing, a perplexed and unnerved Scott just nodded ‘yes.’ He didn’t want to believe that Nancy was implying she would only bestow the privilege of making him humiliatingly orgasm under her foot after he’d first achieved some other yet-unnamed task like a form of payment, but she wasn’t leaving much room for ambiguity here. Blushing worse by the second, and still caught in that misfire aftermath of a failed climax, the one-incher desperately wished the woman would shove her foot back into the mule, if only to stop her from staring at him like this. Not so much to his surprise, Scott got his wish a few seconds later, after the giantess seemed to approve of his unspoken answer, and lowered the shoe to put it back on. Only this time, as soon as she had her diminutive house guest cramped beneath her toes once more, she didn’t settle back into the armchair to screw with his shrunken genitals again, but instead ascended and then marched off to another room. And as he endured the sweaty burdensome rise-and-fall thumping from a colossal foot he was certain to become sickeningly acquainted with over these three days, Scott’s earlier theory was proven right: Nancy definitely couldn’t walk on and grope him inside her shoe at the same time.