Ste Letto
12-26-2002, 10:26 AM
Here is part 4 of my little story.
Poreolight School Part 4
Lynsey positioned herself with her back to the couch, her luscious bottom hovering over the centre cushion, then sat heavily, feeling the springs creak and groan, feeling the cushion give under her bum. She wiggled her hips to settle herself and grinned. The cushion was not just a cushion. The cushion was her cousin Malcolm. Malcolm, a 15 yr old brat, was being punished for pinching her bum at a party. Lynsey had told him repeatedly to "Cut it out!", but Malcolm had just kept giving her an inane and infuriating grin, so finally she'd decided to take matters into her own hands.
She'd slyly invited the boy to step outside, then magically transferred his body onto the dusty, gritty sole of her left sandal. She'd quickly persormed a replicator spell, which created a copy or facsimile of Malcolm which would carry on living his life until such time as she decided to put him back. That way nobody would ever know he was missing. With Malcolm imprisoned under her pretty foot, Lynsey had proceeded to rejoin the party, dancing the night away with every boy in the room, including the copy of Malcolm she'd just made.
Under this girl's foot for hours, serving as the tread beneath her painted toed, Malcolm had suffered. All he could see was the ground, travelling away as her foot came up, then hurtling toward him as her shoe came down, then darkness when he was pressed to the floor. Each impact felt like he was being crushed flat. It felt a bit like standing in the road and having two lorries hit you; one from infront and one from behind. He'd felt agony in his entire body. Sometimes, with her foot down, she'd twisted and turned; after all she was dancing, and that had made him feel like he was being ripped apart.
That was two months ago, and since that time Malcolm had served as her panties, her panty shield, her computer seat, her toilet, the saddle on her bike, the cushion she sat on, her skirt, the insole and the undersole of every boot or shoe she had worn. Today he was currently serving as her cushion. If you could look very carefully and closely at the cushion, you would see his stretched and distorted face mapped onto its upper surface.
Malcolm was in a very intimate hell. Lynsey's weight on his cushion body was akin to having 10 people sit on you while you lie on the floor. He felt crushed and squashed flat. He felt like his ribcage would collapse, like he couldn't breathe, and like his internal organs were being mused into jelly. He felt he might burst. Her buttocks were hot and sweaty, and the sweat ran into his eyes, nose and mouth. Her rear smelt as well. He could smell her sex, and traces of her anus. She took great delight in farting into his cushion body, where it would get trapped and would linger for hours and hours. Leaning to the side slightly, Lynsey squeezed one out before settling back into her upright position.
Malcolm felt like he would be sick. The smell was foul, putrid and sickening, inescapable. He felt totally degraded and humiliated. If his transformed body could have, he would have wept.
Lynsey wiggled her hips again, making her bottom imprint even more firmly onto Malcolm's face, and handed Jennifer the book. Jennifer took it with a smile, looked down at Rupert and said "Face cushion". Rupert transformed into what looked like an inflated cushion one foot by four foot, the entire upper surface of which showed his face and body, stretched to fit the entire length and width. Jennifer planted her feet on his face, while Lynsey put one foot on his groin, the other on his legs.
Jennifer flipped through the book until she found the spell she wanted. The spell would find as many men as they wished who had fantasised about being an innersole for a beautiful girl. The spell would read the minds and dreams of these men, and carry them, in their sleep, to Jennifer for placement. To the men it would simply be a delicious dream. She mouthed a simple incantation then waited. Before long a glowing star of energy appeared over the page of the book, Jennifer smiled and wafted the star toward her left training shoe. Rupert would go in the right. Another star appeared, so she wafted this toward Lynsey's left trainer, where it impacted the innersole then diappeared. Finally a third appeared, and this found a home in Lynsey's right shoe.
Jennifer closed the book, ending the spell. She smiled down at Rupert, twirled her wrist, pointed at her right trainer and watched as he was transferred into her insole. Of the four who now found themselves serving as insoles, only Rupert knew the truth of what was going on. The other three thought they were each having some kind of delicious dream. Oliver, David and Mike all found themselves suddenly paralysed. Each was aware of a hard plasticcy surface below them, and some kind of opening overhead. Each was aware of the unmistakable smell of a girl's footsweat. Each smiled and relaxed, deciding that they were having a rather erotic dream. Each looked about, down ino the darkness and up at the light. Each saw lace holes and arcing walls. Then they heard voices, and saw giant girls looming overhead. Each saw giant faces, gorgeous faces, and hands, giant hands with perfect manicures. Those hands grasped their new homes and lofted them into the air.
The girls had changed into white minidresses for the game, and now were ready to put on their shoes. Lynsey gathered her well worn Pumas, while Jennifer gathered her well used Nikes. Both girls were going barefoot. "Be cooling" each told her human insoles. Immediately them men felt their body temperatures drop. Each was now a cooling gel insole for a young girl who was about to play tennis.
The girls sat and slipped their feet into their inhabited shoes. Each man saw pretty toes, from underneath, filling the opening in the shoe, before passing overhead. Each saw, in the dim light, a soft pink sole, followed by a menacing heel. Each silently screamed as that heel came down, to impact their helpless face. The shock of that impact, and the pressure on their entire body that followed, took all the newbies by surprise. Each foot was firmly stamped home and pressed down, to imbed itself in the cooling insole. Each shoe was tightly laced, and double knotted to avoid slipping. Now the men felt constant pressure, and rising heat. In the pitch black, their other senses heightened.
The pressure seemed overwhelming, crushing and breathtaking, threatening to break bones if they still had bones. They heard squeaking and creaking, some of which was the shoes expanding to hold the feet within, part of which was their own insole bodies giving way to the giant feet of their users. The smell was high and getting higher, a pungent mixture of old and fresh sweat, despite their cooling presence.
The girls trotted outside. Each chose a racquet from a stand, and each picked up a few balls. They were going to warm up first. Lynsey danced on her toes, bouncing up and down, before running on the spot on the hard packed clay. In a sudden spell of inspiration she transferred Malcolm's consciousness onto the tread of her right shoe. Now every step of that shoe crushed him and covered him in hot red dust.
Jennifer ran left to right across the court, letting her foot slam down hard. The men inside her shoes felt like they were being punched in the stomach and face simultaneously. They felt hot, sick, pained and dizzy. The only respite they got was when her foot lifted, but really that was only temporary, and it was only a relief from the crushing pressure, and anyway, they knew the pressure would soon be back.
Time became unreal, elastic and strange. The girls played for around 50 mins, but to the men in their shoes it felt like hours. Their world became focussed on the sound of the girls' feet slamming into the dirt, grunts of exertion, cries of delight and the squeaks and creaks of their insole body's moving inside the shoes. This plus the smell, the pain of repeated impacts, where they were flattened out under hot feet, and the burning sweat that ran down onto their helpless forms.
Finally the girls finished playing. They trotted back into the house and got themselves cool glasses of fruit juice which they sipped while standing in the kitchen area of their flat.
Lynsey spoke to Malcolm "Be a worm Malcom". She angled her foot up and watched as his body peeled off her shoe. His long muddy brown body lay on the tiled floor. "Bye bye Malcom" she said, then she squished him, stamping on him until his body was paste. She giggled. "Heal Malcolm" she said, and his body restored itself. She squished him again. She repeated this process 20 times before she got bored and put himback on her sole.
The girls returned to the couch. "Footstool Malcolm" Lynsey ordered. Malcolm became a footstool. The girls propped the feet up on his agonised, contorted form. They sat with their hot feet in their cooling trainers for hours until they decided to free the men inside. All the men, except Rupert where returned to their beds. "That was fun," said Jennifer, "I wonder what we should do next!"
Poreolight School Part 4
Lynsey positioned herself with her back to the couch, her luscious bottom hovering over the centre cushion, then sat heavily, feeling the springs creak and groan, feeling the cushion give under her bum. She wiggled her hips to settle herself and grinned. The cushion was not just a cushion. The cushion was her cousin Malcolm. Malcolm, a 15 yr old brat, was being punished for pinching her bum at a party. Lynsey had told him repeatedly to "Cut it out!", but Malcolm had just kept giving her an inane and infuriating grin, so finally she'd decided to take matters into her own hands.
She'd slyly invited the boy to step outside, then magically transferred his body onto the dusty, gritty sole of her left sandal. She'd quickly persormed a replicator spell, which created a copy or facsimile of Malcolm which would carry on living his life until such time as she decided to put him back. That way nobody would ever know he was missing. With Malcolm imprisoned under her pretty foot, Lynsey had proceeded to rejoin the party, dancing the night away with every boy in the room, including the copy of Malcolm she'd just made.
Under this girl's foot for hours, serving as the tread beneath her painted toed, Malcolm had suffered. All he could see was the ground, travelling away as her foot came up, then hurtling toward him as her shoe came down, then darkness when he was pressed to the floor. Each impact felt like he was being crushed flat. It felt a bit like standing in the road and having two lorries hit you; one from infront and one from behind. He'd felt agony in his entire body. Sometimes, with her foot down, she'd twisted and turned; after all she was dancing, and that had made him feel like he was being ripped apart.
That was two months ago, and since that time Malcolm had served as her panties, her panty shield, her computer seat, her toilet, the saddle on her bike, the cushion she sat on, her skirt, the insole and the undersole of every boot or shoe she had worn. Today he was currently serving as her cushion. If you could look very carefully and closely at the cushion, you would see his stretched and distorted face mapped onto its upper surface.
Malcolm was in a very intimate hell. Lynsey's weight on his cushion body was akin to having 10 people sit on you while you lie on the floor. He felt crushed and squashed flat. He felt like his ribcage would collapse, like he couldn't breathe, and like his internal organs were being mused into jelly. He felt he might burst. Her buttocks were hot and sweaty, and the sweat ran into his eyes, nose and mouth. Her rear smelt as well. He could smell her sex, and traces of her anus. She took great delight in farting into his cushion body, where it would get trapped and would linger for hours and hours. Leaning to the side slightly, Lynsey squeezed one out before settling back into her upright position.
Malcolm felt like he would be sick. The smell was foul, putrid and sickening, inescapable. He felt totally degraded and humiliated. If his transformed body could have, he would have wept.
Lynsey wiggled her hips again, making her bottom imprint even more firmly onto Malcolm's face, and handed Jennifer the book. Jennifer took it with a smile, looked down at Rupert and said "Face cushion". Rupert transformed into what looked like an inflated cushion one foot by four foot, the entire upper surface of which showed his face and body, stretched to fit the entire length and width. Jennifer planted her feet on his face, while Lynsey put one foot on his groin, the other on his legs.
Jennifer flipped through the book until she found the spell she wanted. The spell would find as many men as they wished who had fantasised about being an innersole for a beautiful girl. The spell would read the minds and dreams of these men, and carry them, in their sleep, to Jennifer for placement. To the men it would simply be a delicious dream. She mouthed a simple incantation then waited. Before long a glowing star of energy appeared over the page of the book, Jennifer smiled and wafted the star toward her left training shoe. Rupert would go in the right. Another star appeared, so she wafted this toward Lynsey's left trainer, where it impacted the innersole then diappeared. Finally a third appeared, and this found a home in Lynsey's right shoe.
Jennifer closed the book, ending the spell. She smiled down at Rupert, twirled her wrist, pointed at her right trainer and watched as he was transferred into her insole. Of the four who now found themselves serving as insoles, only Rupert knew the truth of what was going on. The other three thought they were each having some kind of delicious dream. Oliver, David and Mike all found themselves suddenly paralysed. Each was aware of a hard plasticcy surface below them, and some kind of opening overhead. Each was aware of the unmistakable smell of a girl's footsweat. Each smiled and relaxed, deciding that they were having a rather erotic dream. Each looked about, down ino the darkness and up at the light. Each saw lace holes and arcing walls. Then they heard voices, and saw giant girls looming overhead. Each saw giant faces, gorgeous faces, and hands, giant hands with perfect manicures. Those hands grasped their new homes and lofted them into the air.
The girls had changed into white minidresses for the game, and now were ready to put on their shoes. Lynsey gathered her well worn Pumas, while Jennifer gathered her well used Nikes. Both girls were going barefoot. "Be cooling" each told her human insoles. Immediately them men felt their body temperatures drop. Each was now a cooling gel insole for a young girl who was about to play tennis.
The girls sat and slipped their feet into their inhabited shoes. Each man saw pretty toes, from underneath, filling the opening in the shoe, before passing overhead. Each saw, in the dim light, a soft pink sole, followed by a menacing heel. Each silently screamed as that heel came down, to impact their helpless face. The shock of that impact, and the pressure on their entire body that followed, took all the newbies by surprise. Each foot was firmly stamped home and pressed down, to imbed itself in the cooling insole. Each shoe was tightly laced, and double knotted to avoid slipping. Now the men felt constant pressure, and rising heat. In the pitch black, their other senses heightened.
The pressure seemed overwhelming, crushing and breathtaking, threatening to break bones if they still had bones. They heard squeaking and creaking, some of which was the shoes expanding to hold the feet within, part of which was their own insole bodies giving way to the giant feet of their users. The smell was high and getting higher, a pungent mixture of old and fresh sweat, despite their cooling presence.
The girls trotted outside. Each chose a racquet from a stand, and each picked up a few balls. They were going to warm up first. Lynsey danced on her toes, bouncing up and down, before running on the spot on the hard packed clay. In a sudden spell of inspiration she transferred Malcolm's consciousness onto the tread of her right shoe. Now every step of that shoe crushed him and covered him in hot red dust.
Jennifer ran left to right across the court, letting her foot slam down hard. The men inside her shoes felt like they were being punched in the stomach and face simultaneously. They felt hot, sick, pained and dizzy. The only respite they got was when her foot lifted, but really that was only temporary, and it was only a relief from the crushing pressure, and anyway, they knew the pressure would soon be back.
Time became unreal, elastic and strange. The girls played for around 50 mins, but to the men in their shoes it felt like hours. Their world became focussed on the sound of the girls' feet slamming into the dirt, grunts of exertion, cries of delight and the squeaks and creaks of their insole body's moving inside the shoes. This plus the smell, the pain of repeated impacts, where they were flattened out under hot feet, and the burning sweat that ran down onto their helpless forms.
Finally the girls finished playing. They trotted back into the house and got themselves cool glasses of fruit juice which they sipped while standing in the kitchen area of their flat.
Lynsey spoke to Malcolm "Be a worm Malcom". She angled her foot up and watched as his body peeled off her shoe. His long muddy brown body lay on the tiled floor. "Bye bye Malcom" she said, then she squished him, stamping on him until his body was paste. She giggled. "Heal Malcolm" she said, and his body restored itself. She squished him again. She repeated this process 20 times before she got bored and put himback on her sole.
The girls returned to the couch. "Footstool Malcolm" Lynsey ordered. Malcolm became a footstool. The girls propped the feet up on his agonised, contorted form. They sat with their hot feet in their cooling trainers for hours until they decided to free the men inside. All the men, except Rupert where returned to their beds. "That was fun," said Jennifer, "I wonder what we should do next!"