Ste Letto
09-15-2007, 12:43 PM
This one had a little more life in it after all.
Katherine’s insoles – part 5
Next morning Katherine awoke with a yawn and stretched langorously. She arched her feet and toes forward, then rotated them before bending each foot back toward the shins. Martin found himself squeezed and pulled about as he rose to full wakefulness. He groaned to himself as Katherine trilled “Good morning footboy – hope you’re ok.” Martin wept softly.
As Katherine slipped her body out of bed Martin experienced the weird vertigo that accompanied being swept through the air at the end of her legs. He was squeezed between her soft soles and the material of her socks. He had never quite got used to the combination of sensations that a single step of the foot that was part of his prison entailed. There was the helpless movement of his tiny body. After this came the impact as her foot slammed down against the ground, slamming him down at the same time. Then came the crushing, flattening, compressing sensation as if he were being run through a mangle, and the sensation of having all the air forced from his body. When her foot lifted he rapidly regained his former shape, although this was in no way a painless process. He felt all the pain and discomfort of being stepped upon, but in reverse.
Katherine hummed tunelessly to herself as she walked into the bathroom, lowered her pyjama bottoms and sat upon the toilet seat. Her crushing weight was less severe as she sat with both feet upon the floor. These were blissful seconds as Martin listened to her peeing. This morning, she had a new idea. She reached down and removed the sock with Martin inside. She tipped him out, blinking, afraid and confused into the palm of her hand.
Smiling, Katherine closed her grip upon the tiny man. She squeezed his chest so tightly that he could not breathe. Martin’s little face slowly changed colour from healthy pink to deep purple. He looked like an overfull sausage. His eyes were bulging, rolling agonised in his head.
Katherine licked her lips before dropping him to the floor. He hit with a thud, drawing in a desperate gasp. Katherine gave him no respite. She pressed him flat onto his back with her irresistible foot and held him there. His face was ground beneath her foot pads. The skin there was harder and a little more scratchy to his skin. Katherine arched her heel and bore down more firmly with the front of her foot. Martin’s chest and head began to collapse. His arms and legs flailed uselessly in his agony as Katherine flattened him without mercy or pause. When her foot was almost on the ground the girl released the pressure. She scooped up his flattened body and put it back into her sock.
Martin recovered consciousness as Katherine was standing up. First she washed her hands, and then she brushed her teeth. She amused herself by banging her foot with her in sock captive against the floor over and over again.
Several weeks later, Katherine was sitting on a bar stool, left leg crossed over right, dangling her elegant black high heeled shoe from her white nylon clad left foot when she spotted a young man stealing glimpses at her. She turned slowly, caught his eye, finished off her drink then angled her little foot forward so that her sexy shoe clattered to the floor. From his cramped, compressed, airless, hot prison beneath Katherine’s right foot Martin heard the shoe hit the floor.
From across the bar, the young man Katherine was targeting stared at her open mouthed. Katherine affected a pout and began flexing her pretty little foot as if to cool it and ease it now it was free of her shoe. Seeing the flush of colour on the young man’s face Katherine raised her eyebrows, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time.
As the young man slid his chair backward, much to Katherine’s surprise, a passing gentleman, on his way back from the toilet, suddenly dropped to one knee, picked up her fallen shoe and raised it to his face so he could inhale deeply from within its fortunate insides. Still kneeling, he grasped her heel delicately and slipped the shoe back onto her foot. Katherine was momentarily taken aback. The gent, still on one knee smiled at the Chinese beauty, bent his head and placed a kiss on the top of her stockinged foot.
The young man, who had missed his chance, slid his chair forward again. He watched the events unfolding with a longing sadness in his heart.
Katherine giggled. “My my,” she said, “thankyou kind sir. May I get you a drink?” The man stood and nodded, smiling broadly. As he sat on the next stool Katherine signalled for the barman. As the young barman approached she said “What’s your poison?”
The man smiled ruefully, “Stunning young ladies with beautiful feet,” he replied. Katherine smiled slyly.
“Really. I would never have guessed,” she said, giggling. “But what would you like to drink?”
The man thought a moment. “Jack Daniels with ice,” he said, speaking both to Katherine and the barman. Katherine smiled and nodded at the barman to confirm the order.
Minutes later Katherine and the gent, who said his name was George Pellman, were talking softly. Katherine had her legs crossed and was making sure to touch, tap and stroke George’s leg with her foot. He grew giddy and helplessly attracted to Katherine.
The chain of events that followed was hopelessly inevitable. Katherine invited the man back to her home. She led him inside. She hesitantly asked him if he liked lady’s feet. When he reddened and smiled and nodded she told him she wouldn’t mind if he lay on the floor as she rested her feet on his face, if he wanted to of course. George lay down eagerly. His rampant cock threatened to burst his expensive zip as it throbbed and pulsed in his pants.
Tingling with excitement Katherine kicked off her shoes and slowly raised her nylon clad soles over George’s excited face. She lowered her soles until they formed a soft, aromatic mask hovering 6 inches above George’s head. She let him see the darkened patches were her foot sweat and some grime from her insoles discoloured the material. She knew he was impatient for her to give him her soles, and she fully intended to do so, but she wanted to tease.
“Last chance George,” she said playfully. “Are you 100% sure you want me to use your face as my footstool?” As she spoke she waggled her pretty little feet up and down and side to side.
“Oh please,” George said loudly, “please beauty, please use my face as your footstool!”
Katherine giggled. “I love to hear you pleading,” she told him, “that really turns me on.”
George launched into more pleading. “Goddess Katherine, most beautiful of beautiful women, I beg you, please, please, please put your soft, aromatic, nylon clad soles on my face!”
Katherine sighed. “Oh very well,” she said in mock exasperation. “Here you are,” she added as she lowered her feet and pressed them to the eager face beneath. George felt a shock of electricity run through his body. He felt as if every nerve ending in his body was sparking. His brain buzzed and his balls swelled with juice. Her nylons were smooth, her feet were warm, the skin inside was insanely soft and her feet smelt heady and intoxicating.
He dragged in deep, deep sniffs to fill his lungs with the scent of her feet. Her scent seemed to override and overwhelm his ability to think. His head seemed to be spinning. He felt strange, distant, weaker somehow. He felt as if Katherine were shuffling her feet on his body. He couldn’t grasp that he was becoming smaller and smaller under this evil woman’s feet. The soft movements and shuffling of her feet leeched something from him that fed her, and as a consequence he grew smaller and smaller.
When he was barely two inches tall Katherine lifted her feet away. With George in a delirious daze the wicked woman plucked his naked body from his expensive clothes and studied him. He was still alive. She placed him on the floor, raised her stockinged foot, then stamped upon him, flattening him.
She stood tall, and began stepping on George over and over. She marched in place on the little man. George’s body was suffused with agonies. The awful crushing, crunching pressure of Katherine's feet swelled, broke and burst his body with ease; yet he did not die. The moment any part of him was unmolested, it repaired and reformed itself, ready to be crushed and crunched again.
Katherine alternated between silence as she marched, or laughing and giggling, singing or talking to George. The latter was the most strange for the newly altered man. He heard Katherine’s lilting high voice as she talked to him.
“Hey baby,” she said sweetly, “how you doing down there? Are you okay big fella? I’m not hurting you am I? It feels so nice to be spending time with you. Hmmm, it is so nice to have you cushion my little feet for me. You are such a darling man. I know you’re gonna love being my insole for me.”
Katherine’s insoles – part 5
Next morning Katherine awoke with a yawn and stretched langorously. She arched her feet and toes forward, then rotated them before bending each foot back toward the shins. Martin found himself squeezed and pulled about as he rose to full wakefulness. He groaned to himself as Katherine trilled “Good morning footboy – hope you’re ok.” Martin wept softly.
As Katherine slipped her body out of bed Martin experienced the weird vertigo that accompanied being swept through the air at the end of her legs. He was squeezed between her soft soles and the material of her socks. He had never quite got used to the combination of sensations that a single step of the foot that was part of his prison entailed. There was the helpless movement of his tiny body. After this came the impact as her foot slammed down against the ground, slamming him down at the same time. Then came the crushing, flattening, compressing sensation as if he were being run through a mangle, and the sensation of having all the air forced from his body. When her foot lifted he rapidly regained his former shape, although this was in no way a painless process. He felt all the pain and discomfort of being stepped upon, but in reverse.
Katherine hummed tunelessly to herself as she walked into the bathroom, lowered her pyjama bottoms and sat upon the toilet seat. Her crushing weight was less severe as she sat with both feet upon the floor. These were blissful seconds as Martin listened to her peeing. This morning, she had a new idea. She reached down and removed the sock with Martin inside. She tipped him out, blinking, afraid and confused into the palm of her hand.
Smiling, Katherine closed her grip upon the tiny man. She squeezed his chest so tightly that he could not breathe. Martin’s little face slowly changed colour from healthy pink to deep purple. He looked like an overfull sausage. His eyes were bulging, rolling agonised in his head.
Katherine licked her lips before dropping him to the floor. He hit with a thud, drawing in a desperate gasp. Katherine gave him no respite. She pressed him flat onto his back with her irresistible foot and held him there. His face was ground beneath her foot pads. The skin there was harder and a little more scratchy to his skin. Katherine arched her heel and bore down more firmly with the front of her foot. Martin’s chest and head began to collapse. His arms and legs flailed uselessly in his agony as Katherine flattened him without mercy or pause. When her foot was almost on the ground the girl released the pressure. She scooped up his flattened body and put it back into her sock.
Martin recovered consciousness as Katherine was standing up. First she washed her hands, and then she brushed her teeth. She amused herself by banging her foot with her in sock captive against the floor over and over again.
Several weeks later, Katherine was sitting on a bar stool, left leg crossed over right, dangling her elegant black high heeled shoe from her white nylon clad left foot when she spotted a young man stealing glimpses at her. She turned slowly, caught his eye, finished off her drink then angled her little foot forward so that her sexy shoe clattered to the floor. From his cramped, compressed, airless, hot prison beneath Katherine’s right foot Martin heard the shoe hit the floor.
From across the bar, the young man Katherine was targeting stared at her open mouthed. Katherine affected a pout and began flexing her pretty little foot as if to cool it and ease it now it was free of her shoe. Seeing the flush of colour on the young man’s face Katherine raised her eyebrows, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time.
As the young man slid his chair backward, much to Katherine’s surprise, a passing gentleman, on his way back from the toilet, suddenly dropped to one knee, picked up her fallen shoe and raised it to his face so he could inhale deeply from within its fortunate insides. Still kneeling, he grasped her heel delicately and slipped the shoe back onto her foot. Katherine was momentarily taken aback. The gent, still on one knee smiled at the Chinese beauty, bent his head and placed a kiss on the top of her stockinged foot.
The young man, who had missed his chance, slid his chair forward again. He watched the events unfolding with a longing sadness in his heart.
Katherine giggled. “My my,” she said, “thankyou kind sir. May I get you a drink?” The man stood and nodded, smiling broadly. As he sat on the next stool Katherine signalled for the barman. As the young barman approached she said “What’s your poison?”
The man smiled ruefully, “Stunning young ladies with beautiful feet,” he replied. Katherine smiled slyly.
“Really. I would never have guessed,” she said, giggling. “But what would you like to drink?”
The man thought a moment. “Jack Daniels with ice,” he said, speaking both to Katherine and the barman. Katherine smiled and nodded at the barman to confirm the order.
Minutes later Katherine and the gent, who said his name was George Pellman, were talking softly. Katherine had her legs crossed and was making sure to touch, tap and stroke George’s leg with her foot. He grew giddy and helplessly attracted to Katherine.
The chain of events that followed was hopelessly inevitable. Katherine invited the man back to her home. She led him inside. She hesitantly asked him if he liked lady’s feet. When he reddened and smiled and nodded she told him she wouldn’t mind if he lay on the floor as she rested her feet on his face, if he wanted to of course. George lay down eagerly. His rampant cock threatened to burst his expensive zip as it throbbed and pulsed in his pants.
Tingling with excitement Katherine kicked off her shoes and slowly raised her nylon clad soles over George’s excited face. She lowered her soles until they formed a soft, aromatic mask hovering 6 inches above George’s head. She let him see the darkened patches were her foot sweat and some grime from her insoles discoloured the material. She knew he was impatient for her to give him her soles, and she fully intended to do so, but she wanted to tease.
“Last chance George,” she said playfully. “Are you 100% sure you want me to use your face as my footstool?” As she spoke she waggled her pretty little feet up and down and side to side.
“Oh please,” George said loudly, “please beauty, please use my face as your footstool!”
Katherine giggled. “I love to hear you pleading,” she told him, “that really turns me on.”
George launched into more pleading. “Goddess Katherine, most beautiful of beautiful women, I beg you, please, please, please put your soft, aromatic, nylon clad soles on my face!”
Katherine sighed. “Oh very well,” she said in mock exasperation. “Here you are,” she added as she lowered her feet and pressed them to the eager face beneath. George felt a shock of electricity run through his body. He felt as if every nerve ending in his body was sparking. His brain buzzed and his balls swelled with juice. Her nylons were smooth, her feet were warm, the skin inside was insanely soft and her feet smelt heady and intoxicating.
He dragged in deep, deep sniffs to fill his lungs with the scent of her feet. Her scent seemed to override and overwhelm his ability to think. His head seemed to be spinning. He felt strange, distant, weaker somehow. He felt as if Katherine were shuffling her feet on his body. He couldn’t grasp that he was becoming smaller and smaller under this evil woman’s feet. The soft movements and shuffling of her feet leeched something from him that fed her, and as a consequence he grew smaller and smaller.
When he was barely two inches tall Katherine lifted her feet away. With George in a delirious daze the wicked woman plucked his naked body from his expensive clothes and studied him. He was still alive. She placed him on the floor, raised her stockinged foot, then stamped upon him, flattening him.
She stood tall, and began stepping on George over and over. She marched in place on the little man. George’s body was suffused with agonies. The awful crushing, crunching pressure of Katherine's feet swelled, broke and burst his body with ease; yet he did not die. The moment any part of him was unmolested, it repaired and reformed itself, ready to be crushed and crunched again.
Katherine alternated between silence as she marched, or laughing and giggling, singing or talking to George. The latter was the most strange for the newly altered man. He heard Katherine’s lilting high voice as she talked to him.
“Hey baby,” she said sweetly, “how you doing down there? Are you okay big fella? I’m not hurting you am I? It feels so nice to be spending time with you. Hmmm, it is so nice to have you cushion my little feet for me. You are such a darling man. I know you’re gonna love being my insole for me.”