The Seminar Part 4

[ogilthorpe]

Sorry about the delay
but this chapter kept getting longer--6500 words
I remind that this is fairly intense fantasy material
in other words, don't try this at home

Chapter4

Melanie sat quietly for now, resting her feet on Ronnie. She listened as he continued his story. She gave her full attention at first. Then her mind became more crowded, as his tale sparked her own memories, and thoughts and needs. She heard him talk about his owner, Rosita. His eyes took on a far-off look as he reminisced about her. Rosita Lopez was a rising young executive in the personnel department at New World Insurance. He had been her helper at work, and had lived for all the years he served her in her office. He seemed almost proud that he had never left the 30th floor of the Headquarters Building in nearly 2 decades. Each morning She grew him up to half a meter in height, and he would spend a long busy day making life easier for Miss Rosita; writing proposals and speeches for her, filing, cleaning, and doing research for her. He sat at her feet, as she passed judgment on disputes between the male workers, and then delicately cleaned the remains of the loser from the sole of her dainty shoe. And when his tasks for the day were done, he would lie passively under her desk, as her tiny brown feet rested on him or gently prodded his body. She seldom played with or dangled her shoes. Instead her toes idly explored the various textures of his body, while above Miss Rosita pored over some boring report, barely aware of how her restless feet amused themselves below.
He learned that it pleased her when he could highlight some point in one of her many presentations with an apt quote or an amusing anecdote from some world-renowned management expert, especially the famous Doctor Burgess. So he studied all her articles and papers, and Melanie’s personal writings too. He was in fact, a Melanie Burgess expert without ever seeing her except, for a faded, wrinkled photo on the back cover of one of her books.
Every night, as she prepared to leave, Miss Rosita would reduce him from 50 cm. down to 10, the usual sleeping size for men. Then she would drop him into the right bottom drawer of her desk, along with a few leftovers from her lunch and dinner, and a small cup of water. There he spent the night in darkness, working late on his miniature computer station, doing more work for her, or sometimes exploring the net, learning more of that wide world outside his diminutive universe in and under Rosita’s desk. It was a dark, but not unhappy place for him. He had his terminal, his food, and a little chamber pot that he emptied each morning. And on one side of the drawer sat her pretty work shoes, radiating their warmth and subtle scent throughout his home. Miss Rosita seldom wore stockings, but she left him one, now torn and useless to her. So when tiredness finally conquered his need to work or learn, he would crawl into her shoe, pulling his stocking behind him. He slept in her shoe, and felt warm and secure, covered by her stocking. He slept soundly. He was very content.
Then something happened. Miss Rosita was placed in charge of the office complex in Peking, and prepared to move. It was a huge promotion, and Ronnie began to wonder if he might actually see some of that wide outside world. Then, he learned, as he heard one of the senior executives talking to his owner, that the company was providing her a special oriental male assistant at her new office; one who spoke both Mandarin and Japanese. Ronnie was not really that jealous. Miss Rosita made it clear that she meant to keep both her office males. But Ronnie sensed that he would have to share that happy time under the desk. And it meant that the new boy rode with her up front on the way to the Air Transport Station. Ronnie rode in the back with the luggage.
“Still, that boy being her new favorite, well… that’s what saved my life and ruined it in the same minute.”
Melanie’s interest had started to drift, but that got her attention. “Boy, explain that.”
“Well Ma’am, just as we got to the ATS gate, the whole front of the car was blasted by what I guess was a hand held missile. My owner and Hirotsu were killed immediately, but I was thrown clear. I remember that I was lying there on the pavement, still pretty dazed and choking on all the smoke, when I was suddenly dragged to my feet. I was looking up at this grimy wild-eyed meter-tall man sporting a beard down to his waist, and carrying some kind of weapon. There were dozens of other big fellows who looked the same. They were running around firing off their guns and shouting about male liberation. Well this smelly character reached down and gave me a big bear hug, and welcomes me to what he called the “Nation of Free Men.” Then he pulls off my collar and waves it in the air. Just then the Security Patrol showed up in force, and got to rounding up all the men and shrinking them. I started to pull away from my “liberator,” and ran to one of the security ladies. When I got close though, I heard her shouting, reminding the ladies to step on any unlicensed males. “No prisoners” she kept yelling over and over. At that instant I remembered that dirty man was still holding my collar and license. I wheeled around just in time to see him (now shrunk to 10 centimeters) disintegrate beneath the gleaming black boot of one of the officers. I looked up at his executioner. I saw a very young red-haired woman, with a pretty smiling face, and eyes shining with excitement. Her eyes were looking directly at me. Then I panicked. I don’t remember anything really, till I was sitting in the dark, and trying to catch my breath. I had dragged open a manhole cover. I could hear from all the screaming that the battle, if you could call it that, was still going on. So I took off running down the fetid caves of the sewer system. I ran, and ran, and ran, until I collapsed in exhaustion. Then I cried. My owner was dead. My collar was gone. As far as anyone knew, I was a male radical on the run. I thought about turning myself in. Already I was feeling kind of guilty about escaping. But after I thought for a while, I decided that I did not want to die just yet, even if I did disappoint that pretty policewoman who wanted to step on me.”
Melanie began to smile. “ Yes I remember that. It was 3 or 4 years ago. And it sounds like I have under my foot a genuine male revolutionary. You’re probably the last one alive on the whole continent. But don’t just stare at me like that. Get on with the story.”
Melanie listened with part of her mind as Ronnie talked about his life in the sewers. She became aware that her feet had shifted, and one stocking sole was digging insistently into his groin. The ball of her foot rotated in a slow grinding rhythm, squashing his penis into the bruised flesh of his abdomen. She knew this rough caress was hurting him, but if hardness was an indicator, it must be pleasurable also. She found herself wondering if Rosita had done something like this when Ronnie lay under her desk. Somehow this made her want to step harder into him, and to do things to Ronnie that Rosita’s tiny peds could never accomplish; to show Ronnie just how powerful she could be. Of course it made no sense. Her power over him was total. She could shrink him in a second and complete what the young policewoman had not been able to finish. They both knew it, and the thought of doing it excited her. But she did not want to simply obliterate him. She wanted to impress him.
Melanie found this line of thought troubling. She turned her attention to the rest of the class. The men were now arranged side by side. The young women now queued up at the head, rather than between the legs. They took turns inserting a high heel down the throat of a man, trying to produce an extended gag, without destroying the vocal chords. None looked too steady balancing on one foot, so it was well that they were standing on the floor. Mona however, who was tall to begin with, seemed to derive more authority from the few extra inches that she gained by treading on the men’s chests. She strode unhurriedly from torso to torso, giving advice to the edgy students. She certainly was not unsteady in her heels. If you videoed her smooth movements from the knees up, you would have been certain that she was simply walking back and forth on a smooth floor. Occasionally she would stop for a moment, and place both her feet on a single chest. Only then, could Melanie’s careful eye perceive that Mona had started to descend, as if the floor was gradually collapsing beneath her, which indeed it was. Mona could be irritating at times, but there was no denying her skill. She could bring a male to temporary insanity with a few expert steps, and yet control the damage so that he could return to his job the next day. Melanie saw that Mary was still sitting to the side with the two late girls. All 3 seemed more engrossed in their own conversation, than what was happening to the men.

[ogilthorpe]

Suddenly all the students were moving down once more to the other end of the men. Mona had apparently noticed the time, and did not want to miss the opportunity for a testicle popping demonstration. Mona also moved to a new position She now stood on the two men in the middle, the toe of each pump just touching the top of the ball sack. The penises were completely hidden beneath her soles, and as each shoe settled into it’s own male pelvis, the crushing pressure of Mona’s weight forced air from the flattened abdomen and down into the sacks. The sacks actually inflated from the pressure-4 unnaturally large, wrinkled balloons lying invitingly exposed at her feet. The men knew what was about to happen and desperately strained at her bonds. Melanie noticed that they made almost no noise. Apparently none of the vocal chords had made it through the last exercise. All the men could still breathe and move though, even the one who Caitlin had mortally injured. Mona stood relaxed and silent, her hands resting on her waist, understandably savoring the feel of the men beneath her. At last she began to speak.
“ Now, we only have a few minutes to go, so don’t be disappointed if you don’t get one popped today. We all know that testicles have a sort of mind of their own. Nothing else that sticks out of a man’s body is so hard to isolate and pin down. Besides we have a lot more students than testicles at the moment. I’m sure that Dr. Burgess will correct that problem in the future. Now the technique is to precisely insert the toe of your shoe between his testicles to separate them.”
Mona slowly moved her right foot, aiming her toe towards the ball sack under her left foot. The man on her right collapsed in relief at his temporary reprieve, while the one under her left redoubled his frantic attempts to avoid the inevitable. All his thrashing had no effect at all on Mona. Her balance was incredible.
“The toe goes in almost vertical, like so. Now press down ever so carefully, and begin to push into the lucky testicle. The trick is to keep tension on the ball, so it won’t roll aside. You have to be very steady and patient. It’s almost like doing surgery with your feet. Now rotate your foot, so you are pushing down and to the right. If you are not careful the little thing will roll around your foot and get away. It helps a lot to stand like I am doing now. All my weight is crushing his pelvis down and outward. So there is a lot of air pressure actually pushing the ball away from his body. The natural male reflex is for the small muscular tube- the one that attaches the testes to the rest of him- to contract like mad, pulling the ball up into his body, into the little recess where it had hidden when he was a baby, before the nasty thing descended. The tiny cord can’t pull his testicle through my foot, but it tries anyway. That’s where the tension comes from. Slowly. Slowly keep pushing. There, see that. The thing looks like it wants to burst right through the skin. It’s trapped against the bottom of my shoe, and can’t move at all. That’s what we want. So now all I have to do is to step down with authority.”
There actually was an audible pop, not unlike the sound a woman makes when she cracks her knuckles. Spasms spread through the man’s body like an earthquake in a sand dune, and his ruined larynx emitted a forlorn voiceless howl. Then his taut body collapsed into unconsciousness.
For a second the silence was interrupted by only individual eeewwws and aaahhhs. Then all the students erupted in enthusiastic applause. Mona bowed, not trying too hard to appear humble. Now she stepped carelessly off the insensible man beneath her. She meandered away in Mary’s direction. She was looking put out. No doubt she was upset that Mona had proceeded with the demonstration without giving her sister a chance to take over. It was Mary’s specialty, after all. The students bent their efforts to reproducing Mona’s performance without much evidence of accomplishment. They clapped once more as Mona’s victim gave up his second testicle. But that hardly counted as he was already knocked out.
Melanie turned all her attention back to Ronnie who seemed about to conclude his story.
“Now boy, tell me again how long you lived under that sorority.”
“Ma’am, it was almost a year. I’m sure some of the girls knew I was out there. A couple of them even left me bits of food from time to time. They wouldn’t actually talk to me. Being an unlicensed male is worse than having leprosy. One of the girls who left me food, Cinda was her name, would look right at me where I was hiding. She would smile and I could tell that she saw me. I think she might have picked me up if I was smaller. I was still a half-meter tall. My size can’t be changed of course when I don’t have a collar. So I was stuck. Too little to do much, and way too big for anyone to hide or even to step on me to get me out my misery. I took to climbing up to Cinda’s window at night, to watch her and her roommate study or talk. One night she brought for her and her roommate a male from the juvenile male center. You know they still call it a weekend furlough, when a lady brings home a young male who is less than 21 from the juvie center. A weekend furlough; Yea, like they were ever coming back! Well she dumped this guy out of his cage onto the floor. He looked young; I figured he was 18 maybe, and he looked none too smart. Still I guess he knew what going to a sorority meant. He wasn’t there as a pet or cheap labor. He was a disposable toy. The girls slipped off their shoes, and then made him about the size of a mouse. He played that part well, running for furniture or toward the doorway as fast as he could. They would playfully chase him and just before he got to some safe place, one of them would pounce, pinning his squirming body to the carpet with her bare foot. His captor would then rub her foot again and again over the frightened boy, before she gently kicked him back to the center of the room. Then Cinda would stand over the vanquished male and raise her foot as if to step on him. Then he would spring to his feet and run again, fleeing toward a sanctuary that was always just beyond his reach. Sometimes,when Cinda’s roommate caught him, she would roll him under her foot, like a fleshy little log, all the way back to the starting point. The girls giggled and snickered continually as the play went on hour after hour, with their play gradually getting less gentle. I could not take my eyes away from it. They seemed never to tire from the game, but their tiny quarry was wearing out. Finally Cinda raised her foot to start another chase, and the boy did not move. He lay there on his back, bruised, dizzy and exhausted. He tried to lurch away as her giant toes waved at him from above, but he was too weak. The girls giggled, chatted, then giggled some more. The roommate ran in with a drop cloth and the size changer. They made him larger, almost as long as Cinda’s pretty foot, which rested next to his quivering form. The boy desperately tried to crawl away, but Cinda flipped him onto his back once more and gently teased him with her toes. She spoke to him. I couldn’t hear, but the boy relaxed, and even managed a little smile. By this time the roommate had spread the drop cloth, and they rolled their victim on to the shiny plastic.
Then they took turns standing on him. His reflexes took over and he fought at first, mindlessly thrashing away as his body was compressed. Each girl balanced on 1 foot for a minute or more, with each trying hard to restrain her excitement as she felt him pathetically struggling under her. After each turn they examined him. They prodded him with their toes seeking movement, or some sign of life that would justify extending their fun.
I watched it all. I know in my mind that it didn’t take all that long, but it seemed to go on forever- the standing, the crushing, the prodding, and the giggling. Finally he could not move at all. No amount of prodding from their impatient toes could get that flattened thing to stir. Then his tiny eyes opened, and he stared up at their smiling faces. It was then that it struck me. I began sobbing. I wasn’t feeling sorry for him. There he was, a stupid juvenile delinquent, teased and tortured, and crushed in a night of naughty pleasure for 2 college girls. But I could sense that with all the agony and fear, that he was a thousand times happier than I was, or was ever likely to be. I envied him so much that it hurt. I tried to turn away, but my eyes kept coming back to the window.
They had flipped a coin, and I guess Cinda won. She was slipping on a pair of riding boots. By the time she got to him, the roommate was laying down the size changer. He was smaller now, maybe the length of her little finger. She paused to show him the sole of her boot, then stepped down. He disappeared for the last time. I turned away again and tried to get control of myself. When I turned back to them again, Cinda was sitting down, staring at the bottom of her boot. Her finger played in the smear of red ooze on the sole. Then she was gazing directly at me. She had the same look… the same as that red-haired security woman, years before. Then Cinda smiled so sweetly, winked at me, and nodded toward the sole of her boot; as if to say “Don’t you wish you were here?”
By the time I got back to my place in the sewer, I had decided that I had been miserably alone for too long. Life with snakes, and rats, and mentally deranged males was no life at all. The next day I turned myself in, and here I am.”

[ogilthorpe]

“So,’ Melanie inquired, “Was it the right decision- to turn yourself in?”
“Yes Ma’am. I’ve seen things today more wonderful than I could imagine.”
Melanie tried not to smile, but slipped her foot into her old pump and dangled the worn sole in front of his moist eyes. “Things like this maybe?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Melanie stood and reached for her own size changer. She took aim on Ronnie, and abruptly he was shrinking. When he was down to a quarter meter, she stopped the process and leaned down to him.
“Ronnie, you do tell a good story. I think I will take you home with me for a bit. I might have some use for you.”
Before he could respond, she turned the changer to minimum size, and he was quickly a mere 2-centimeter bug-sized man, trying vainly to comprehend what was happening. She snatched mini-Ronnie between thumb and forefinger, and lifted him into the air. With her other hand she grasped a glass locket that hung around her neck, and popped the latch. Ronnie was a tight fit in there, but she judged that he would manage until they got to her house. Melanie lived alone. She had not kept a personal servant in years. She had owned many, earlier in her life. But none survived more than a few months. No matter how fond she became of them, her own physical needs eventually took over. Her need for the ultimate act of dominance grew, until she could not control it. The longer she kept a man, the more powerful was her own sexual response when she eventually stepped on him. It could be a shatteringly powerful experience. But afterwards, she would feel strangely sad. There was no guilt. She had done nothing wrong. But she found that she missed the men after they were gone. She felt lonely, and a little empty. At last the whole cycle became too painful and complicated for her. It was better to stay alone, than to experience that sadness again.
Melanie saw that class was ending. The students were drifting out the door, and Mona and Mary had just finished placing the surviving males back in their cages. Her two lab assistants were standing by the terminally damaged man, having an intense conversation. Mona stepped onto the man. She did it casually, now unconcerned about what further damage her heels might cause. Melanie began to walk toward them, but was intercepted by Caitlin and her blonde companion.
‘Professor Burgess?”
“Yes. What can I do for you?” Melanie tried hard to concentrate, to clear away for the moments all those rushing thoughts that were distracting her.
She noticed that Caitlin had finally composed herself, though her eyes were still red and somewhat swollen.
“Professor, I’ve been thinking. I believe I shouldn’t be here. I’d like your permission to drop the class.”
“Oh?”
“Doctor, I know in my head how important this all is. But I can’t bring myself to hurt and kill the men, no matter how good the reason. I just feel too much for them. I think I’m in the wrong place.”
Melanie stared down at that innocent face. She felt a compelling need to help the young woman. But even as she felt this, there was a tinge of resentment also. This girl attracted friends, and loyalty, and help the way a beautiful flower attracts a buzzing entourage of bees. She would never be alone. She would never experience what Ronnie felt, or even the less poignant loneliness that nibbled away at Melanie’s heart. “No, you’re not in the wrong place. Why don’t you and… what’s you name again?” she asked turning to the other woman.
“My name’s Jeanie. I sort of take care of Caitlin.’
“Well, you and Jeanie come spend a few minutes with me.”
The 3 of them approached the twins who were now bickering. Mona still stood nonchalantly on the man, seemingly unaware that he was even there. She turned quickly to her boss, wanting to be the first to plead her case.
“Mary, here wants to pop this guys nads before you do him. I told her that you wouldn’t like it. She’s just upset because she missed out on popping that other fellow. She was too busy holding hands with her (nodding to Caitlin), and that’s certainly not my fault.”
“Phooey! Just don’t think any guy should go with big round ones like that. Why let them go to waste?” Mary replied pointing to the doomed man’s still unspoiled testicles, about the only undamaged part of his anatomy.
Melanie sighed deeply, and then began to speak. “I want both of you to know how pleased I am with how you ran the class today. Sometimes I get stuck in a routine, and it nice to see how you kept things exciting today. In fact, if your schedules are not too busy, I’d like you to keep helping. Now I am going to take care of this fellow, and I want him to stay awake through most of it. So we have to leave his balls intact. After that, I want to talk with these students for a minute. Now if you two will go around to the other side of the cart, you’ll see that Emmy managed to send over some special men in this shipment. Go look them over. I’d like you each to have a pair of the men. But don’t go blabbing about this. Emmy stretched the rules for us, and I don’t want her getting into trouble.”
Mona and Mary exchanged glances, and then Mona stepped off the man, leaving a trail of reddish footprints as she walked away. “OK Doc,” she responded, “ I think you got our curiosity up. Besides you’re the one who makes out our schedule, so I’m sure we’ll have time to help you.”
Mary moved to catch up with her sister, but paused as the passed the man, casting a rueful glance at those little round fruits that she could not harvest. “Alright, but I get first pick of these special men. It’s only fair.”
“Not if I get there first!” Mona countered, picking up her pace. Then the two scampered off, their quarrel now forgotten, to claim their reward.
Melanie stood over the man, surveying the damage. His breathing was ragged and rapid, no doubt from his collapsed lung. He still was not bleeding rapidly but it was beginning to collect in little pools on the floor. He was worn out, but still managed to look very scared. She turned to the two students. “Get a couple of chairs, and sit next to me. I’d like Caitlin to see this close up.”
While the young ladies got themselves situated, Melanie turned her attention to the male. She pulled the size-changer from her pocket and started to reduce him. She slipped her stocking foot out of her pump and rested it next to his dwindling body. Every man knew what this meant. He was being sized just a little shorter than the woman’s foot. “Being measured,” they called it. Melanie knew that when men talked among themselves, that “being measured,” meant the same as being killed. It had grown to be a sort of ritual of slow disposal. As he reached the proper dimensions, Melanie moved her other, still shod, foot, so that the heel rested below him and the sole of her shoe hovered a few centimeters above his face. She remained in this position for a time, showing the man the sole that would crush him. This was another tradition, which Melanie usually followed. She felt that doing things formally made the act more poignant and civilized. Although as she stood there thinking about Ronnie, and about Cinda, she had to admit that there was something to be said for the unrestrained exuberance of youth.
By this time the man was in full panic. He could not crawl with his arms still attached to his waist. But he did manage a kind of wretched attempt at wriggling like a snake, but this only got him a short distance before he collapsed. His efforts though, brought a smile to Melanie’s face. She moved now to completely cover his still quivering body with her stocking foot. She pressed on him carefully, and then grasped his head in her long toes. She settled the ball of her foot onto his chest. Then she shifted weight gradually onto his soft body. She waited patiently, feeling his renewed struggles. Only then did she turn to Caitlin.

[ogilthorpe]

“Tell me, does it bother you that men worship you?”
“Well, I think they are more afraid of us than anything. I mean it’s not like we’re God or anything.”
“But you couldn’t be more wrong. We are Goddesses to them. Literally. Not some abstract idea or Philosophy. We raise them in clone farms and factories. We make all the rules of their existence. We work them until they are too sick to be productive, then we crush them into the dust. We make them. We use them. We kill them. We are the only higher power that they can understand. So they love us and hate us and fear us, and all at the same time.
Melanie closed her eyes for a moment.“ Ah, he is beginning to wear down now. It won’t be long. Do you know what he is feeling now?”
“It must be awful. I hate to even think about it.” Caitlin was uncomfortable with this, but was fascinated as well.
“But I know. He’s spent his whole life in this tough world, and just now he’s entering a new one. His new universe is the bottom of my foot. Every sense in his little body is overwhelmed by my foot. The horrific pressure slowly collapses his chest and guts. My toes are clutching his head like a big vice, pushing him deeper into the experience of my foot. With every painful breath he draws in the sour smell of my sole and shoe, and fills every corner his lungs and his brain with that potent gas. All his thoughts and fears, and needs, and hopes are forgotten. There is only my foot. Now he’s there. He’s stopped moving. He floats in the hell he has feared his entire life, and the heaven he has sought forever. They are the same place.”
Slowly Melanie drew her foot away. Caitlin leaned forward to examine him. His flattened and distorted body still contained some spark of life. His eyes fluttered. His chest still moved. But he now seemed unaware, as if he were in a trance.”
“Uh, do they all have that?” Caitlin asked pointing to his tiny erection.
Melanie smiled as she engaged the size changer once more. The man now seemed so insignificant next to the giant shoe sole that lingered above him. “Yes, they have that, At least they do if you, that is if the Goddess does her job carefully.
With that, Melanie stepped on him. The crackling sound of his body being crushed, sent Melanie momentarily into her own trance. Until this moment, she had not been aware of how aroused she had become through the afternoon. She closed her eyes and felt the waves of pleasure begin to flow through her. She allowed images to flood into her overheated imagination, until she saw Ronnie lying helplessly before her. Then that simple vision pushed away all the other pictures from her mind’s eye. Melanie feared that she was losing control, and forced herself to open her eyes. The two young ladies were looking at her rather oddly. Jeanie, who had been silent to this point, broke the awkward silence.
“Gee, Doctor Burgess, If I didn’t know better. I would’ve thought you were a preacher. I haven’t heard a sermon like that in a long time.”
Melanie couldn’t help but laugh with them. OK, so I guess you didn’t know there was a spiritual side to business management. But my point is that being sensitive to a male's feelings should not make disposing them harder, it should make it more pleasurable to you. You and every other woman is now a Goddess. That’s the way the world works. You don’t help the men a bit by pretending it isn’t so.
Melanie took a tissue and wiped the bottom of her shoe, then dropped it into the waste collector. Then she walked over to the cart and pulled off a cage at random. She returned to the students and handed it to Caitlin. Here. I’ve given enough speeches today. This man is your special homework. Forget all the other reading. Focus on him. Talk to him. Play with him. Tease him. But before the next class, I want you to kill him. Jeanie here can help you, but you have to do the crush alone, and to make it last as long as possible. Do this, and then if you still want to withdraw from my seminar, I will let you. If you don’t, then I am afraid you will have a failing grade on your permanent transcript.
Caitlin looked bewildered. But Jeanie took over quickly, not wanting to let this opportunity escape them. “Come on, Caits, I’ll help you. It’ll be fun. You’ll see.” Then she dragged her roommate towards the door, before Dr. Burgess changed her mind, and took back this free treat.
Melanie walked slowly around the cart, still somewhat lost in her own thoughts. What she saw, shocked her back into the present. Mona and Mary sat barefoot on the floor. They were laughing uncontrollably; for around them were running literally dozens of happy insole men. High quality insoles were the most remarkable men. Melanie’s great grandmother, had she been able to see one, would certainly have cried out in happy recognition, “It’s the Pillsbury Doughboy!” Women still usually still called them doughboys, though hardly anyone now knew where the name came from. They danced, and cavorted, and sang like a bunch of kindergarten girls, on the first day of summer vacation. Their good humor seemed to have infected Mona and Mary, or perhaps they were simply ticklish. For several doughboys crowded enthusiastically around each of their naked feet, sniffing, rubbing, licking, and stroking. Mona finally noticed Melanie standing and watching the party. “Uh Doctor Burgess,” she intoned rather sheepishly. “We decided to let them all out of their cages for a little bit.”
Doughboys were well known to be the happiest of men. They had none of the angst and fear that plagued other men, and for good reason. They were genetically modified for their work, and were practically indestructible. Those chubby bodies had the soft consistency of marshmallows, along with the durability of steel. They had only one purpose and only one pleasure in life, to lie under a woman’s foot. They lived lives of perpetual ecstasy, and their saucy, outgoing personalities reflected this happiness in their work. Melanie had never seen a group this large, or this excited. Doughboys are sold as cloned twins, and they seemed particularly taken with the fact that Mona and Mary were also identical twins. Several were standing together chanting “Twins under twins,’ again and again.
Melanie simply stood and marveled at the scene before her. It was shocking to think that each set of these Genetically Enhanced Footboys, as they were more properly called, cost as much as Melanie made in a year. More shocking was the fact that the Mayor’s daughter had owned this entire collection, and had not wanted any of them back. And even more disturbing was the thought of what she could have done to these happy males, to make them run away from her.
Suddenly the men noticed Melanie. Shouts of “Dr Burgess, Dr Burgess,” and “It’s the new boss lady,” filled the air. Many of them rushed to her, pushing and shoving all around her feet. In order to avoid falling, She had to sit down next to her assistants. Instantly her shoes were removed, and they started rubbing themselves across her soles. She had to admit that it felt good. One particularly brazen fellow looked right up at her with a sad expression and talked to her in a stern voice. “Boss lady’s big feet hot and tired. Is not good, Need Freddy to care of them.”
This was definitely fun but it was late. Reluctantly she stopped the party. “Alright boys, we can only take few of you today. So you need to get back in your cages.’ She looked down at Freddy, who still stood expectantly by her foot.
“Where’s your brother Freddy?”
“Me here,” another doughboy called out as he ran to her other foot.
“OK. What’s your name?”
He looked a bit confused at the question “Freddy. Me Freddy also.”
“Hmmm… So how do I operate you two?”
“No need. We advanced models. Do it for you. You see.”
“Brother right. We know what you need.”
Melanie was getting a bit irritated. She began to see why a woman might not want too many of these guys around. “Alright Freddies, jump in my shoes. I guess you have a job.”
The Freddies happily ran to her pumps and crawled in.
“Eeewww. Really big shoes to fill, brother.”
“Big challenge too. Feet need lot of work.”
Melanie quickly slipped her feet into her pumps before they could say anything more. She stood, and immediately felt the Freddies molding themselves to her feet. They were soft, cool and refreshing. The support under her arches felt wonderful, and they were vibrating soothingly at just the right places. It was really erotic. This was not altogether good as the last thing she needed at the moment was more arousal. By this time Mona and Mary had made their selections and the rest of the disappointed doughboys were back in their cages. Her assistants still looked very happy. As they wandered off, Melanie swore that she could hear them singing, “Twins on twins. Twins on twins.”
It had been a long day. As she gathered her coat and briefcase, she noticed a male janitor patiently cleaning up the results of the day’s exercises. She closed the door, and floated off down the hallway on her new footboys. She hummed a happy tune, and gently stroked the locket that hung around her neck; as visions of Cindas, and Freddies, and Ronnies passed through her head.

End Chapter 4

[andybis]

Excellent. i love it! Simply excellent, you're a great writer...

Andy...always waiting for next chapters...

:worship: :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :bananajum :bananajum

[qwertyzxcvshing]

What can I say?

Another superb episode. I have to say that I really like the crunchy, stepping bits! Looking forward to seeing how Caitlin gets on with her homework, especially the last bit.

Thank you for taking the time to write these chapters. I'm sure that they are more appreciated than the level of comments would suggest.

[Ste Letto]

Hi Ogilthorpe,

what can I say? You are the man who sets the standard for storytelling. I love your stuff, and this one doesn't disappoint. I would love to be the little guy in Cinda's room, being toyed with, being chased, and finally being crushed under the broad, smooth sole of a tall, shiny, black riding boot. If I was outside that window I'd have been hammering to get in when she signalled. You couldn't throw in a guy called Ste at some point could you? I would sooooo like that.

Yours in admiration,

Ste:worship: :worship:

[ah2]

Without doubt, the best series so far. Please don't stop. Anyone out there want to make a movie out of this?

At least add some pictures. I seem to remember Kiko has some nice pics of minimen.

[ogilthorpe]

Thanks for the kind comments. I do appreciate them.
I've been looking for some background pics to match the ladies
should have thought of that when I was describing these gals
I'll see if I can find some more

background from

www.womanworship.co.uk

[ogilthorpe]

couldn't resist making another collage--well several, but this is the only one done
I will try to get the next chapter out more quickly---I've said that before
I figure 2 chapters to go


www.womanworship.co.uk

[ah2]

Wow!!! That went really well with the story. Thanks!

I'll try to post some of those kiko stuff when I find them. It's pretty tuff when u rummage thru about 30Gbs of jpegs.

[kiko]

Hello ah2 !!!

Well, you dont have to search...........just ask me to post some !!! :D :D :D

Hope you like them ! I really share just the same fantasies with ogilthorpe and i just cant wait to read the next chapter !!!

;)


....best regards and thank you, ogilthorpe, fot this wonderful "MEGA-STORY" !

"Let the balls go - POP - "

KIKO

P.S. I have problems uploading the pics, so I will post them later again !

[kiko]

Sorry.........i didnt mean to post the pics twice ! :2guns: .........but i didnt get any response from the server ! :cry:

Well, here`s the second one :cool:

hope you like them !

KIKO

[ah2]

I love it!!!

In fact, it inspired me to come out with something as well. It's still a coarse but I hope you like it. What do you think?

Steve

[ah2]

Hi Ogilthorpe,
When will you be coming out with part 5? I'm waiting so anxiously that I just have to come out with another collage.

Regards,
Steve

[under foot]

Hate to bring up an old thread, but I'd REALLY like to know if this was ever finished?

Are the final 2 chapters anywhere to be read?