This choice: Catherine’s toes wrap around her and drop her at her feet for a massage. • Go Back...Chapter #9Serving the Knight by: Frost   Shamir lay on her back, utterly beaten by the simple act of Catherine making her way back to her lodgings. Her size left her completely vulnerable to the brutish knight’s whims, and Shamir felt completely conflicted about it as Catherine’s wide foot trampled her into the leather sole repeatedly.
Eventually, the weight backed off. It was merciful, but Catherine’s foot made sure to get one last feel of its prey as it slowly rolled over the tiny woman’s body on its way out.
The massive digits made sure to squeeze and nip at her, and the moment the shrunken Shamir pieced together what was happening it was far too late for her as Catherine’s largest and second toes clenched and gripped her body completely.
She felt the pull and a lurch in her stomach as the foot exited from the dungeon-like depths of the book. The crispness of the evening air was welcomed, but it had still been tainted with the hot musk from the much larger knight’s feet.
It took a second or two for the inch tall archer to get her bearings. Catherine was beaming down at her, a smug, drunken grin on her face that said it all. She sat, legs crossed, on the bed in her quarters, and she made sure to wiggle her toes out to emphasize the power she held over her prize.
“Hey cutie,” Catherine teased.
Exercising the smallest bit of dignity she had left, Shamir chose not to respond, glaring up at her captor.
“Aww, come on, don’t be like that, Shimmy,” the giant knight teased. “I know you liked your pride and all, but I think this suits you.”
Shamir kept quiet, remaining defiant. She pushed against the constricting walls. All she thought about in the moment was that if she moved just right, she could find a way to escape from Catherine’s grip.
“Alright, how about this?” Catherine began. “You do something for me… I do something for you.” Catherine’s grin only got wider as she felt the squirming between her toes stop. “I figured that’d get your attention.”
“Just say what you want from me.”
Licking her lips, Catherine considered what to ask from her. She was already enjoying the sensation of Shamir against her foot — whether it be while in her boot or between her toes.
“I want a foot massage.”
[i]“Of course you do…” [/i] Shamir thought to herself. “And what would I get in return?”
“Anything you want from me… except turning you back to normal before your time.”
The shrunken archer deflate at the thought. Still, she figured that it was in her best interest to give in, as much as she hated the idea of having to service Catherine’s soles.
“Fine.”
The moment she agreed, she felt the pressure release and she fell to the bed before. Compared to the worn sole of the boot she was trapped in, the plushness of the mattress was very much appreciated.
Rolling onto her back, Shamir felt a sense of dread once she saw both of Catherine’s feet looming above her. Her soles easily towered several times her height, and she swore that she could climb the wrinkles like one would scale a cliff face. The digits at the top only curled in anticipation.
“I’m waiting,” Catherine teased.
Groaning, the shrunken woman forced herself to stand and cautiously approached the raised soles. SHe stretched an arm out and felt the smooth wall bend at her touch.
Mustering up every bit of discipline she built from decades of combat training, Shamir went to work.
She kneaded her elbows into wall of skin, trying to pay no mind to the stale air around her or the light layer of perspiration that coated the giantess’ foot. She’d done worse. [i]This was just emotionally and spiritually taxing,[/i] she reasoned. Physically, she could throw herself right into it and do a decent enough job to claim her reward… it just didn’t help one bit that every once in a while, Catherine let out an oafish moan that reminded her just what she was doing and more humiliatingly, whose pleasure this was for in the end.
“Riiiight there,” Catherine hummed huskily. She let her weight rest against her bed’s headrest, enjoying the subtle but engrossing feeling of a tiny person serving her feet.
Shamir didn’t appreciate the feedback, but obliged anyway, working her right elbow into the rank flesh and eliciting a deep moan of gratitude from the giantess.
Eventually, Shamir pulled herself back, staring up expectantly at the giantess for her end of the bargain.
"Done already?" Catherine asked...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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