The Long Game CH. 1

Once we got back home, Mary wasted no time grabbing me out of my bowl and running into the house with me. Everything was a blur as her movements at my size were far too fast for me to fully comprehend. She took me into her room and dropped me onto her computer desk that was down by the foot of her bed. She sat down on the bed and kicked off her sneakers. As usual, it only took a few seconds before the stench of her feet began to fill the room. 

Now I couldn’t stand the smell of her feet at full size being this far away, but at my new size with my insanely increased sense of smell, unbearable isn’t even close enough of a word to describe how nauseatingly disgusting my situation was. She lifted her left foot, removed her sock, and placed it on the desk in front of me. Then she lifted her right foot and did the same. Now, both feet were propped up in front of me, glistening in sweat, and releasing a smell that probably would have killed me had she not made me indistructable. 

“Now be a good little pet and start licking my feet!” She said excitedly. “I know you don’t like licking feet, but now that you’re this size, you really have no choice anymore! Now you have to do everything I say! So quit stalling and get to licking!” 

I pushed off her foot in disgust. An act that I immediately regretted. I had forgotten about my whole body being absorbent and covered in tasted buds, but the second I touched her was a painful reminder. The taste of her acrid foot sweat burned my taste buds as well as my skin. As if that wasn’t bad enough, for the brief second that my hand was making contact with her foot, it absorbed all the sweat that it had touched into me, leaving a lingering taste that spread throughout the entirety of my body. I stepped back and gagged. 

“So you’re really not going to listen to me?” Mary asked, sounding genuinely shocked. “That’s fine. I know you’ve never been a big fan of my stinky feet. I guess we’ll just have to take some time to break you in. What do you say? I think a week or two with my feet aught to change your tune.” 

“What are you talking ab-” I tried to ask what she meant, but was brushed off the desk by her foot and knocked onto the floor. 

She stood up and raised her foot high above me. 

“No please wai-” 

Her foot slammed down with deadly force. Had she not paid for the invulnerability package, my whole body would’ve splattered under her foot, leaving nothing more than a small blood stain on her foot. However, since she did in fact pay extra, when her foot came down on me, I found myself flat as paper, mashed to the underside of her foot. When she raised her foot back up, I was stuck firmly to her sole. From the second her foot landed on me, I began to taste how nasty her foot was. All the sweat that was coating her foot, was now being absorbed into my miniscule body. The taste was nauseating and burned every inch of my body as the filth was rapidly being absorbed into me. 

When she lifted her foot, my face was mashed deep into her sole, preventing me from seeing anything, but after just a few seconds of feeling the fresh air brushing my back, I began to feel something warm and wet begin to cover me. She was sliding her socks back on. When her foot when back down, it didn’t go to the floor, but rather inside her shoe. I could tell, because as she began to slide her foot in and put weight down on the insole, sweat began to ooze it’s way up and I quickly found myself submerged in it. 

As her foot settled into place, I felt pressure from all sides as I was pressed firmly into her foot. I could taste the years of accumulated sweat that had built up in the confines of her insole, now flooding into my super absorbent body. I wanted to scream, to beg for mercy, to be freed from the terrible confines of this Hellish prison. But from my current position, flat against her foot, opening my mouth wasn’t even an option. And even if it had been, I was in far too muffled of a position for anyone to hear me, even if they had their ear up to her shoe. There would be no respite. 

I had no idea how she spent the rest of her day. At no point throughout the day did she remove her shoe or make any attempts to communicate with me in any way. She just simply went about her day as though nothing were out of the ordinary, and I had no choice but to tag along, her little sock stowaway, that only she was aware of. All I could do the whole day was suffer in silence under her foot, constantly being forced to taste her foot and absorb any sweat that happened to touch me. 

Finally, after a long day of trampling me, she decided to put her feet up, relieving me of at least a little pressure. The tightness of the shoe caused a permanent crushing sensation, but it was very noticeably different than being stood on. Now I just waited for her to remove her shoes to get at least a little air flow going and hopefully pull at least some of this stench away before I found myself being forced to absorb it. So I waited.. And waited, and waited. 

It wasn’t until her feet shifted that I realized the full extent of my situation. She hadn’t propped up her feet, she was laying down. I had begun to fear the worse. She wouldn’t really go to bed with her shoes on just to torture me that much more.. Would she? As time drew on, it became more and more clear that that’s exactly what she had done. I had begun to wish that sleeping was an option, at least some means of a break from my reality, but sleeping is not an option once shrunk. 

I spent the whole night in complete agony as the putrid conditions inside her shoe only seemed to get worse with the passing of time. When I heard the muffled sounds of her alarm clock going off, my heart nearly skipped a beat. I couldn’t wait to finally be pulled out of this Hellish prison that she had trapped me in. Having been around her for half my life, I had grown very familiar of her routine. She gets up, has a quick breakfast before getting in the shower and getting ready for work. Considering she went to bed with her shoes on, I could only imagine that she still intended to keep them on through breakfast, but obviously, she wasn’t going to shower with her shoes on. So now I just had to be patient. 

Once again I was getting trampled as she got up and started her day. When the trampling stopped, I knew she had sat down for breakfast. Once done with that, she began moving around yet again. This was it. Breakfast was done, now it was time for a shower. So again I found myself waiting, knowing my reprieve was coming soon. And I waited, and waited, but for some reason, she never seemed to stop moving for very long.  

I began to get nervous. I knew she didn’t have a lot of time before she had to go to work. She always took quick showers, but with as long as she was taking she would very soon be out of time to be able to take one. Then I heard it. The sound of the front door closing behind her as she walked out, followed by a great increase in temperature just mere seconds later. 

I wanted to cry. She had left for work without even bothering to shower. She was so concerned with torturing me, that she was willing to sacrifice her own personal hygiene, just to make sure I get to suffer that much more. It was clear she was trying to make a point, and I understood completely now. Disobedience will not be tolerated. There are far worse things for me to face than death now. Now I could only dream of death as a sweet release from the Hell that has become my life. 

I vowed that after this experience I would never be disobedient again. This has been by far the worst experience of my life, and I was willing to do whatever she wanted, to ensure that this would never happen again. I wish that there had been some way for me to communicate that to her before she went off and started her shift at work, but I was never granted the opportunity. It was very obviously going to be a long and miserable day for me, and there was absolutely nothing within my power that I could do to try and shorten that length of time. The best I could hope for at this point would be that she would be kind enough to let me out once work was over, but with the way she’s been going about all this, I had a hard time believing that that would actually happen. 

By the time her shift ended, conditions in her shoe were indescribable. My flesh felt as though it were on fire and ready to melt off, my tastebuds, that now covered my entire body, were all screaming at the nasty taste of her sweat that was steadily flowing directly from her foot and into my very being. I was so glad when I heard her car start up. I could only hope this was coming to an end soon. 

The drive ended fairly quickly after it had started, far to quickly for her to have gotten home. I took a minute to think about where it could have been that she had gone to, when the chilling realization came over me. She decided that tonight would be a good night to go to the gym. In all honesty, with the gym being so close to her job, most days that she worked she would end up in the gym afterwords. I had just really gotten my hopes up that she might have finally decided to ease up on me, though in hindsight, I knew I shouldn’t have. 

The gym was the worst. Although it felt like an eternity, she was probably only there for an hour or two, which was normal for her. But in that time frame, she managed to sweat more in those one or two hours than she had all day at work. The whole time she spent working out, the taste of her sweat that I was being forced to consume was rapidly growing ever worse. Sweat was being absorbed into me at an alarming rate, and by the time the workout was over, even if she took me out of her shoe at that point and took me to grow back, I knew I would spend the rest of my life tasting her sweat. 

Finally, she finished up her workout and once again we were back in the car. This time when she got out, the amount of time driving seemed more accurate to the amount of time it would normally take her to get home, so at this point, I could only hope that was the case. I heard the sound of the front door closing behind her, and the clink of her putting her keys down, though that was barely audible from my crushed position. She had indeed made it home. Since I wasn’t here for her give her a foot rub right away, I could only hope she would take the next step and shower off after her hot sweaty gym session. 

Once again, I found myself hopefully waiting for a situation that never happened. I don’t know what she was doing all night, but I can tell you this, showering wasn’t on the agenda. When I realized that she had once again gone to sleep with her shoes on I was ready to die. I didn’t want to spend another minute in the confines of this damn shoe, but knowing that she was asleep for the night meant I was once again going to be here for quite some time. 

The following morning, when her alarm went off, I once again foolishly found myself full of hope. Between not showering at all yesterday, especially after her work out at the gym, there was no way she didn’t absolutely reek. She had to be getting in the shower now. I was sure of it. Unfortunately, this morning seemed to follow the exact routine as the day before, meaning no shower before work. The rest of the day seemed to follow in suit. After work she made a stop at the gym again, and that night when she went to bed, her shoes were still on and I still hadn’t been shown even an ounce of mercy. There was really no telling when this nightmare was going to end. 

The more time that I spent in her shoe, the more of her sweat I was forced to consume, and the more the conditions of her shoe threatened to consume me. The constant torment being forced upon me inside her shoe was mentally destroying me. I couldn’t see, I could barely hear what was going on outside me. I could only taste, smell, and feel, and all those senses were being constantly bombarded by an overwhelming presence that is her foot. 

Time had begun to lose all meaning. Hope was becoming a thing of the past. Memories of my past life had begun to fade, and all that was left was Mary’s foot. Forever crushing me, consuming me, forcing all of its acrid filth into me. By the end of the fourth day, with no showers, or any form of break for me, I lost it. I gave up on trying to figure out what was going on around me. I gave up on trying to keep track of the passing of time. And I gave up hoping that I would ever be set free from this nightmarish prison that I had been trapped in for days now. I gave up on thinking. Now I just exist. I’m nothing more that a suffering stain on my stepsisters sole. A living tattoo that no one ever sees. I am nothing anymore...