After what felt like an eternity, Gwen finally lifted her foot out of the boot, and light poured in, blinding you momentarily. You gasped for fresh air as you lay on the damp insole, every muscle in your tiny body aching from the ordeal. As your eyes adjusted, you saw Gwen’s face appear above you, her eyes narrowing as she leaned closer. “Wait a minute… You’re not a bug. You’re—” She squinted, then recognition dawned on her face, followed by a mischievous grin. “Well, well, look who it is. How the mighty have fallen.”
She reached down and pinched you between her fingers, lifting you out of the boot with ease. The world spun around you as she dangled you in front of her face, her breath washing over you with the faint scent of peppermint gum. “I always knew you had a thing for my feet,” she teased, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “But this? Shrinking yourself down just to get close? That’s pretty desperate, even for you.”
Before you could explain or protest, Gwen placed you down on the floor, right in front of her massive, sock-covered feet. “Well, since you’re so into it, why don’t you go ahead and prove it?” she said, wiggling her toes above you. “Show me just how much you appreciate my feet. Who knows? Maybe I’ll let you go if you do a good enough job.”
You hesitated, but Gwen’s foot came down, nudging you onto your back with her big toe. The damp fabric pressed against your tiny body, the heat radiating through the sock and enveloping you. “Come on, little footslave,” she whispered mockingly. “Worship.”
With no other choice, you began rubbing the warm, slightly damp cotton, massaging her toes with all your tiny strength. The musty scent from her foot filled your nose as you worked, the salty taste of sweat clinging to the air around you. You could hear Gwen giggle above you, clearly amused by your efforts. “That’s more like it,” she cooed, pressing down on you slightly, pinning you against the floor. “I always knew you were a bit of a suck-up, but I didn’t think you’d go this far.”
She shifted her foot slightly, allowing you to crawl up onto the ball of her foot. You continued your reluctant worship, massaging the rough fabric of her sock, trying to ignore the humiliation. Gwen watched you with amusement, occasionally curling her toes around you, squeezing your tiny body as if to remind you of your helplessness.
“You know,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery, “I could get used to having my very own footslave. Maybe I’ll keep you like this for a while. You’d better make sure I’m happy, though. Otherwise, I might just slip you back into my boot… and leave you there.”
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