All Work, No Play (Chapter 2) (Patreon)

Even by the standards of a regular-sized human, her size-11s were impressively huge, long but with proportionately wide soles and thick full-bodied toes. As Libby unwittingly rubbed the bottoms of her feet along the carpet with a rough-grained rustling noise, then scrunched and flexed her digits to help air them out, Patrick was granted an eye-poppingly up-close view of both the undersides of those stunning peds. Her spacious arches were undeniably robust and meaty, rife with clearly-plush creases that constantly amplified and then smoothed out again while those toes playfully articulated. They were largely free of blemishes or blisters that Patrick could see, despite knowing offhandedly from a staff meet-and-greet that she played soccer, but after almost a whole work day cooped up in those flats, her foot’s skin was understandably flushed rosy-pink at certain squishier junctures.

Of course, there were many more immediately-apparent signs of the hours imprisoned in those shoes that now washed over Patrick in an at-first bittersweet but ultimately delighted haze. Her flesh, particularly along those deepest sole dimples, the shafts of her toes, and the glistening digit pads themselves, was anointed with a visible glaze of sweat. Not because Libby had done much running about today, but simply a byproduct of all the time spent crammed into those temperature-entrapping flats, combined with the girl’s innate tendency to so frequently keep her feet on-the-go, even while seated at her desk. Grains of sand-like grit and blue-flecked insole jam adorned the dual canvases of the giantess’s soles, stuck in place there against her apparently-soft skin by successive pressure and the natural adhesive of her perspiration. It was a view that, if Libby was actively thinking about her current shrunken audience’s vantage, she might’ve tried to minimize if not conceal completely, considering this was the sort of dirtied sweated-over end result of a day’s effort that most people – particularly women – would’ve preferred to keep unseen by anyone else. Yet because she was so engrossed in her work, or maybe because she was just so automatically comfortable with the company policy of subtly deemphasizing Patrick’s right to decency and cleanliness by placing him on the floor down here, it simply wasn’t on her mind.

But by contrast, nothing was on the one-incher’s mind now except Libby’s marvelous bare feet. And while a different person in his position might’ve resented this viewpoint and proximity to a coworker’s unclean size-11s, he felt nothing but gob-smacked gratitude. Plus a burgeoning stir that built from his core and swiftly graduated toward arousal. Especially when, shortly after she’d shed those flats and he was able to take in the details of her gently exerted lint-speckled peds in all their immensity, Patrick was made to experience the living atmosphere of Libby’s feet. They crept closer toward his desk along the carpet, again seemingly without intention on her part, until they were near enough that the little guy saw more of her mammoth toe-spread feet than the surrounding shaded under-desk ecosystem. Patrick felt the heat radiating off of those arches, warm and perversely inviting, though he dared not get up and touch them. The mugginess might’ve seemed overwhelming to a less foot-enchanted person, but it felt just right to him: like lying out on a beach while the sun beat down. Even more palpable was the aroma wafting from Libby’s feet, however. Its flavor wasn’t the extreme vinegary sting that might’ve resulted from heavy exercise, since the giantess had done no such thing today. Still, no one could’ve judged that smell as fresh, either, as a moderately sour salted leather-tinted musk spread over Patrick in a pleasant fog, with only the tiniest hint of a flowery-citrus soap from her morning shower still remaining beneath the more-overpowering notes. While he still didn’t have the courage to try touching those soles, he indulgently inhaled as deeply as he could, inordinately satisfied, while gazing unblinkingly at the graceful sweat-gleaming suppleness of the giantess’s encroaching peds and all their glorious details.

Patrick was practically trembling now, his head spinning with horniness and his senses obsessively focused upon every slightest tic these two prodigious works of foot-shaped art performed. He didn’t even move now, somehow afraid he’d spook Libby’s soles away if she was reminded of his presence. Those feet weren’t close enough to actually touch him, as they now practically surrounded his desk from just a few inches away, but Patrick was pressed back into his seat as if on a roller coaster by sheer sensual amazement, so he might as well have had one of those size-11s smushed down against his chest and pinning him here.

His arms hung limply at his sides and his eyes itched from lack of blinking, and while he was aware that he was sporting a near-painful boner, even his breaths were quieted to a silent whisper as he watched Libby’s ruddy sweaty lightly-filthed feet, as alluring as could, with statue-stillness for upwards of half an hour straight. Much to Patrick’s thankfulness, even while in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but wonder if the girl was remotely aware of how long she’d kept her bare feet practically roofed overhead of her inch-tall coworker, those soles never retreated. They just hovered. The dense cushiony gridlined plains of her arches only textured with more wrinkles as her toes sleepily flared above, helping keep the micro-climate around her peds much like it must’ve been inside her flats all day: toasty, stagnant, and seasoned with her strong-yet-intoxicating stench.

And once Patrick was fully under her unknowing spell, lying slack as an inch-high ragdoll at his desk except for the rigidity of his arousal, there was no stopping this train now. He never would’ve actually touched himself while on the job, and was too taken-in by the actual experience of just being near Libby Hammond’s gargantuan bare feet to even consider such a risk, but it didn’t matter. With fifteen minutes of the workday left to go, Patrick’s magnetic draw toward the redhead’s musty magnificent creamy-soled size-11s all around him became too much, and without moving another muscle beforehand, he shuddered and then euphorically spasmed to wonderful completion in his chair.