Unwilling Indulgence [Macro/Humanized/Feet]

Last evening, on a dare, you entered the house of local giantess Sequoia, taking on all the risks that came with it and as many pictures as you could to prove it. The twenty snapshots you needed to take almost cost you your life several times over. Your time in her home was filled with many close calls of almost being crushed, falling to death, and even chopped up in a blender. This alone was enough for you to vow never to do anything of this sort again.

Having taken eighteen photos already, you made your way to her bedroom and waited for her to kick off her shoes and go to sleep, so you could finish the job. You kept a lookout for her, scanning the huge doorway and hall for any sign of her. It felt like hours had passed and you figured that she went outside for the 100th time tonight. The final photos to complete your friends' ridiculous challenge seemed like nothing compared to most of the others. It certainly would be easier, if unpleasant. You could get it done as soon as she cooperated, which took much longer than expected. Hidden behind the leg of a nightstand, you began to fall asleep.

After 45 minutes, Sequoia stomped in, shaking you out of your little siesta. You watched her make her way to her closet and change out of her daytime clothes. A snap of the shutter and you got your nineteenth picture. (This is why you could not just ask her to help you; many of the photos you had to take were of private actions and personal habits.) You thought about how uncomfortable she would feel if she knew anyone, let alone someone who was so small compared to her, were doing this.

At long last, she slipped off her shoes, opening up the last photo opportunity you needed: a picture of the inside of her moccasins. You got a terrific view of her smooth, well-kept feet, each of which could flatten three cars in one carefree step. They were slightly spread apart in a powerful but elegant stance. She stood there for a moment, savoring the relief of finally being barefoot after a long day. The sensation of the cool hardwood floor on her tired feet was greater than even her cozy moccasins could provide. She raised herself on the balls of her feet, her green-painted toenails pressing firmly onto the floor.. She closed her eyes and smiled as she took a deep breath and stretched her arms. They came back to her sides as she let out a giant sigh. The moment having passed, she hopped onto her bed, making the covers and pillows jump hundreds of feet in the air.
She was in dreamland within minutes. You would have found this scene of a giantess enjoying life's simple pleasures beautiful, except that feet were one of the few body parts that disgusted you. Sneaking quickly to her shoes, it was obvious to see that they were well worn. They were the only pair she had that you could find, since the only other person who wore her size was the Statue of Liberty.

Moving closer, you began to feel the heat from being worn all day radiate from them. It was almost nauseating. The only thing that could have made it worse was that you were going to have to go inside. At least it was almost over. After deciding on the right slipper, you started to pull yourself onto the toe. The leather was warm and rough. You quickly made it up and ran to the edge to peer into the musky abyss that you would be entering soon. After some mental prepping, you started to ease yourself down from the ledge, but lost your grip and fell onto the inside of the slipper. It wasn't close to what you had expected, and there was no way someone like you could have prepared for it.

“Ugh. It's a foot fetishist's dream come true,” you thought to yourself.

The air inside was thick with the smell of sweat. Surprisingly, there was no real stench, but that did not stop you from gagging at first. You saw that the once off-white lining was tinged a darker color and matted down where her foot would be. Even where the fur had been flattened from years of supporting a giantess, it was still like walking through tall grass. The entire lining was moist from the fresh sweat of this night's work. The sides of the moccasin were still fluffy and, despite their height, you guessed that you could climb them easily. Once you made it to where the ball of her foot would reside, you could feel that the lining was especially worn down. It was the perfect place for the last picture, and then you could get out of this dirty area. You pulled out your Kodak and snapped the final shot. Then, there was the sound of bedsheets being thrown off. The quiet boom of Sequoia's feet touching the ground. The footsteps continued, each one shaking you more than the last. It was everything that could go wrong. You sat there, fearful, in the indent her smallest toe had made, hardly even filling it up. Then the footsteps abruptly stopped. You breathed a sigh of relief just as you were spun around 180 degrees in half a second, tossing you to the center of the shoe. As you looked above you, you saw one of her giant feet coming down into the large opening of the moccasin. You came to your senses and backed away, into where her toes would be going. When her toes did not stop, you had no choice but to jump in between her big toe and 2nd toe. It was a sweaty mess. You waited for her to take off her slipper and rescue you from your prison, just to punish you even worse for breaking and entering; however, it appeared that she did not even feel you. All of a sudden, you suddenly felt the sensation of rising rapidly, as if in a massive elevator. You were pulled down with immense force, but did not move thanks to her toes holding you in place. Then, as quickly as the upward motion had begun, you were thrown down as she completed her first step. Her body shifted as she took a step with her left foot. Having time to brace yourself, her next step came slightly easier for you. This did not mean you were, by any means, comfortable. In addition to being thrown around in between her toes, the air was turning increasingly hot and humid. The smell of feet became strong enough to be impossible to ignore. As she walked around, she began to break a sweat, which, while insignificant to her, was enough to drench you. Her 20-second walk to the kitchen felt like an eternity in a musky prison. You had had enough of this. When she paused to do God-knows-what, you pulled yourself out from in between her toes and crawled underneath her smaller toes, desiring as much breathing room as you could get. You heard a bottle crack open. Then, she began to walk again. Without her toes holding you between them, you were pressed into the fur lining as she lifted her foot up, and onto the underside of her toes as she set it back down. This went on for ages, with you being overwhelmed by her toes constantly touching you, and by the motion and the hot, sweaty air.

Eventually, her feet rested with no movement and you figured that she had sat down. From the sounds of the forest animals and the drop in temperature, you could tell that you were outside. It was so cold this fall night that you began to appreciate the warmth of her foot. Even though this experience hadn't cured your phobia of feet, you decided to make do with what you had. Embracing one of her toes, you tried to fall asleep. You prayed she didn't notice. She didn't. Sequoia ruined your rest once again when her foot rose and turned at an uneven angle.

“Crossing her legs,” you thought to yourself. “How ladylike.”

With your toe cuddle time over, you thought about where to go next. Her arch seemed like a nice place. There would be room to stand, and the fur of her slipper was not as matted down, providing a comfortable place to rest. There was a space between the side of her foot and the shoe, just big enough for you to squeeze in. You made it underneath the arch of her foot, feeling the roof of your room with your hand. It was soft and warm and moved with your touch, indicating that her feet were ticklish. You didn't dare tickle her, because her actions could erratic and even deadly for you. It was your own private suite, a place where you could be so close to another person and they did not even notice. Even though you had to deal with her feet, at this moment, you had nothing to worry about. Sequoia would protect you, albeit unknowingly. With pleasant thoughts in your head, you finally fell asleep.

You woke up on a smooth, firm surface. It smelled of lotion, which was like heaven to your nose after last night. You looked around and saw a living room that looked strangely familiar. When you saw five bridges in front of you, you realized you were in Sequoia's hand and remembered everything that happened last night. You cowered in fear of what she might do to an intruder.

“Hey! What were you doing in my slipper?” she said.

You slowly uncovered your face to look at Sequoia. She was staring directly at you, apparently trying to intimidate you. She was also blushing. She held you very close to her mouth; not only was her voice deafening, but you also could smell the alcohol in her breath, giving a clue about what kind bottle was being opened last night. You didn't have much choice except to stare into her maw. Her teeth were immaculate, her tongue shiny with saliva. Besides the scent of alcohol, was almost as if she had cleaned it up for a visitor.

“You realized I was in your shoe when you first put it on, didn't you?”

Of course she knew. She just didn't want to talk about it. Because with that comment, she walked out the front door, bent down, and flung you into the grass. When you looked back, she was biting her lower lip in enjoyment. This would make one hell of a story for your friends, and they could doubt you with the pictures you... didn't have. Sometime between now and falling asleep in Sequoia's moccasin, you must have lost your Kodak. You figured it would be crushed if it still were in her shoe, and impossible to find it it weren't. You kicked yourself all the way back home.

Meanwhile, Sequoia noticed a dark speck on the counter. She inspected it and saw that it was a camera, probably belonging to her last visitor. She carefully placed the tiny camera in a box on her nightstand, in with the other treasures other adventurers had lost or given her. They were a reminder of the little people she so desperately wanted to “play with”, but was to embarrassed to ask. Last night, however, was one of the greatest ever; if only she could do that again without revealing her secret.