Gina daydreamed on a dreary Saturday morning as she watched the rain fall steadily through the picture window in her breakfast room off the kitchen. The November morning paper was loaded with full page color ads for cold weather clothing & accessories. “Boot Festival” the ads screamed, with page after page of often high priced, but stylish varieties of rain, fashion, & casual models.
“What do you think of these?” she murmured sexily, as if the picture itself were pornographic, or somehow titillating. She spoke in a tone addressing no one in particular, but directed presumably to me, as I was the only sentient being in the house, to my knowledge, & I was perched on the edge of a dipping bowl in front of her. I took nourishment the only way she allowed, which was solely whenever & wherever she had time to keep track of me. I was, of course, a mere 10 mm in height, & had been Gina’s prisoner, in her apartment, for months, after her previous Gothic witch of a tenant had shrunk me & paid her debt to Gina with me, aka the leftover results of her experimentation.
The object of her interest was a pair of tall knee high two toned leather dress boots, combining a moderate tapered heel with a sexy steep angle of the forefoot as it joined the gracefully pointed toe. A belt & buckle around the ankle & knee high shaft with inside golden zipper imparted increased class compared to the usual plain style of most typical riding boots
. Leather loops at the top of the shaft enabled the wearer to pull the boots on from a variety of positions, including seated, with her toes pointing upward.
The latter detail was not lost on me, as Gina delighted in wedging me between her toes, usually in shimmery nylon pantyhose, & then inserting her foot, including me, the prisoner between her toes, into the depths of her boot, luxuriating in the sound of the escaping air & the zipper closure, then stepping firmly on me with her toes. The higher the heel, the more pressure was transferred to her forefoot, & the more helplessly I was trapped.
Gina played mindlessly with her key ring, obviously contemplating a trip to the local mall to check out the newfound “had to have it” fashion statement. “ I’d love to take you with, darling, but how will I ever keep you from squirming around, getting out of position & causing all sorts of mischief, though?” She was now addressing me more directly without any doubt. “Remember what happened last Thursday, when I actually had to change boots while you dangled from a run in the toe of my hose?” I recalled a near escape as Gina hadn’t counted on my exploitation of a defect in the toe of her pantyhose & plotted a complex journey up the inside zipper of her dress boots. Her rain boots sealed me in at the end of the day, however, & so I was forced to continue as her miniature boot slave ever since.
“I think I have an idea” she murmured, adding, “It’s right here in the palm of my hand!” With that Gina unfastened the clamp around a pen, which had been attached with a tiny chain, to a ring on her main key chain. The clamp was a cylindrical steel sleeve, about 3 mm long, & 2 mm wide, which fitted around the shaft of a small pen. By unfastening the clamp, Gina was able to wiggle the pen out of the cylindrical steel device; a small lever would enable it to be compressed around any oblong object (or small person) & released at the will of the holder of the key chain accessory. The ring attached to the cylindrical clamp by a chain was also fitted with a lever to cinch it onto a main key fob, or, in the current case, a suitably sized toe.
Once seeing the light bulb go off on Gina’s face, it didn’t take long to figure out what she had in mind. I protested as loudly as a 1 cm tall little person could, “’No, Gina, don’t you dare put that metal thing on me! And chaining me to your toe ring, that’s just disgusting!”
She was quick but decisive, & within moments, she had the cylindrical sleeve positioned around my mid section, & clamped it tightly down with a sharp snap of her long, red fingernail. It was now an unforgiving steel corset, pressing in on my ribs, squeezing my hips & belly more tightly than I ever could have imagined. Gina took a surgical clamp, opening the soft metallic links of the chain, refastening the last link directly up against the lockable toe ring.
Without so much as an explanation of the plan, or the minimal courtesy of any reassurance that she would treat me gently, she had her slippers off & the toe ring around the 2nd toe of her left foot. Snap! & it was on for better or worse, clamped into place beyond my efforts, in any case. “There, that’s perfect” Gina smiled, as she padded around the apartment, with me wedged between her great & 2nd toe, rigidly held in place by my steel corset, chained to the underside of her fragrant toes. She stopped at the laundry basket, retrieved yesterday’s well worn pair of thick, shimmery pantyhose (her favorite style), & proceeded to slip her right foot down the length of the soft nylon undergarment. I could see the toes of her right foot slide into place & knew my fate would be the same in a quick moment. That moment came before I knew what was happening. I was passed through the reinforced waistband, down through the reeking panty portion of the garment, and then saw the silky thigh & calf of her hose slide past me. I was abruptly shoved into the narrower ankle of the pantyhose, past the reinforced heel, & promptly squeezed between Gina’s toes into the double thick toe of her very fragrant nylon prison!
Gina stretched the tummy panel of the pantyhose high onto her waist, quickly threw on a sweater, short skirt, & brushed a little makeup over her cheeks. “Wet out, isn’t it? She seemed again to be talking to no one in particular, adding, “It wouldn’t do to wear a new pair of fine leather boots home in the rain, would it? Better slip into a pair of my tall rain boots, don’t you think?”
It wasn’t like I had a choice. In an instant, I was plunged, under Gina’s stinky toes, encased in thick nylon, down the airtight shaft of her rain boots, into the cold, fragrant rubber toe box of my familiar prison. It stunk of the acrid, industrial scent of rubber glue & lacquered latex, mixed with Gina’s toe stench. I heard the sickening sound of air escaping up the shaft of the boot as she slid her heel into place, then snapped the top of the cuff against her muscular calf. Escape was now out of the question. The only pressing question (so to speak) was how to avoid being crushed by Gina’s tremendous weight being forced over me by the bottom of her toes, as she squeezed the air out of me with every step. Thankfully, she entered her car & began shifting, giving me an intermittent reprieve between shifts, as she released the force of her toes against the clutch pedal.
Next thing I knew, more shifting & maneuvering occurred, & Gina swung her feet out of the driver’s door. I again felt the excruciating pressure of Gina’s toes around & through my steel body jacket. I was pinned with the metal sleeve between Gina’s great & 2nd toes, which rubbed painfully over my head, arms, & legs with each of Gina’s forceful steps, flattening her toes over me as she stepped off the ball of her foot & flexed her forefoot, pressing me against the nylon & underneath it, the sole of her boot. The roll of each step over me, beginning at my feet like a steam roller, over my trunk & chest, crushed & squeezed my innards up into my chest, & the air from my chest out of my throat. By timing each swing of Gina’s leg, I managed to expand my chest & briefly, but desperately take in air with each of her steps. The short walk from her parking space into the mall was exhausting!
The softer carpeted surface of the department store seemed somehow less harsh, although the rhythm of breathing only when Gina stepped off her left foot remained. “Ooooh,” I heard her exclaim as she stopped at a display, “These are the boots in the picture!” Gina summoned a salesgirl, who answered with a shrill, youthful voice. “Do you have these in a 9?” Gina asked her. The salesgirl trotted off to the stockroom & returned moments later with the requested item. Thankfully, Gina had sat down to prepare to try the new dress boots on, so my agony was lessened for the moment.
“Look at these!” cooed Gina, adding, “This leather is soooh soft!” She slipped her rain boots off with a surge of suction that made my ears pop. I could now see her caressing the tall uppers of the boots with admiration. She unzipped the gold inside calf zippers slowly, as if to tease me with the grating sound it made as she watched me squirm. “Wow, feel the interior leather lining. It’s softer & even more buttery than the outside!” she marveled. With that, she delicately slid her right foot into the depths of the first boot, smiling as she closed her eyes to savor the moment. She snugged her heel down into the heel cup with a whoosh of escaping air, & slowly zipped up the side. Gina focused on me now, as she could see that I was very much aware of my anticipated predicament.
Lifting her left foot up to the rim of the 2nd boot shaft, she spread her toes slightly, & the salesgirl asked if Gina wanted to remove her toe ring. I tried to yell, “Help!” to no avail, as my feeble voice was too faint to be heard & my steel corset, along with the rest of my little body was well hidden from sight by the reinforced material of the toe of Gina’s pantyhose. “No problem” Gina answered the shrill salesgirl, promptly sliding me, along with her foot, down the cool, soft, buttery leather of the interior shaft of the boot. She stopped briefly when her toes reached the ball of the boot sole, and then grasped the heel to give a good firm shove, forcing me into the tapered toe box. I could hear the air escape as her heel formed to the heel cup of the boot, & she slowly zipped up the side zipper. The grinding sound started loudly, & faded as her graceful fingers advanced the pull upward.
Wedged under Gina’s toes, I could anticipate a trial promenade around the store to try out the new boots. They made a sharp, staccato click on the tiled surface of the main aisle. The sharp angle of Gina’s toes with her forefoot left me more or less continuously without room for breath, as I remained applied firmly against the toe box sole almost all the time. I was ecstatic when she finally sat down for a rest.
“Well, what do you think?” asked the salesgirl. “They really look great on you, & make your legs look really, really long.” The salesgirl seemed envious. Gina was pleased, I could overhear, but when she pulled off the new boots, as the salesgirl was distracted with another customer, she pulled the sole of her foot up to her face, & whispered to me, “Why don’t we try an 8½? I wonder how you’ll survive that!” I couldn’t believe her guile! Was the plan to torture me, or to buy new boots? Gina asked the salesgirl to fetch a pair of 8½’s, which she did, although with a roll of her incredulous eyes & a curt “They’ll be too small, you know!”
The 8½’s were excruciatingly tight, & I could barely breathe even when Gina was sitting. The pressure when she walked down the tiled aisle was unbelievable, but thankfully brief. I can only imagine that Gina felt it wasn’t worth teasing me if her strategy made her feet hurt. She struggled to take the smaller size boots off, as I held my breath, not having a great deal of choice. “Thank you,” Gina told the salesgirl, adding, “You’re right, I’ll take the 9’s.”
With that, it was back into the rubber rain boots, stinky & sweaty though they were. The salesgirl wrapped up Gina’s purchase, & it was back out into the parking garage, each breathless step after step. The ride home was uneventful, but I wasn’t prepared for the homecoming.
“So, little man, what do you say we go out dancing tonight? The rain’s supposed to taper off this afternoon, so you can help me break in the new boots in the next few hours as I clean up around the house & pick up a couple of friends downtown. I can’t wait to show them my new find!”
Almost as soon as Gina slipped me out of the rain boots, I knew I was in for a marathon of torture in the new dress boots. Gina wasted no time in introducing me to them.
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11.10.15