Several weeks after the doormat incident your girlfriend had been much less receptive to acting out your giantess fantasy. After profusely apologizing for the first few days she eventually forgave you, but since then the most you could get her to do was resting her feet on your shrunken body, effectively using you as a foot mat while she watched TV or browsed on her phone. While the prolonged weight did result in some slight footprints left on your body, it didn't satisfy your need to be truly flattened.
Along came a girl's night out. The plan was for your girlfriend and her friends to go clubbing. She assured you she wouldn't entertain any approaches from anyone there, and if it came to it the other girls would have her back. You weren't worried, and happily planned your solo night - involving some TV, maybe some games and of course an evaluation of your girlfriends shoes.
You couldn't have predicted how that night would actually go.
On that fateful evening, as your girlfriend was getting ready, she suddenly became upset at something. Checking in on her you found her sitting on your bed, wearing a short black dress ready for the club, with one black high heeled sandal next to her foot, the other in her hand. She looked at you and sighed in frustration. "What's wrong?" you asked, and she pointed out the high heel at the ground. On the insole, around the area were her toes and the ball of her foot would rest, was a transparent gel inlay. You had noticed these in several of her shoes and knew their purpose was to keep her foot from slipping forward in shoes that didn't secure her feet very well. Looking at the other high heel you noticed that it had no such inlay. "Wearing that heel without an inlay would be a nightmare, but my other pairs don't match my dress at all." she explained. You were tempted to tell her to just forget about matching and just have fun with her friends, but you knew her well enough to not do that. Unsure of what to say or suggest, you sat down next to her on the bed and glanced at her, thinking. She was thinking, too. In fact, she already had an idea, one which she was now beginning to seriously consider more and more. She suddenly turned to you, meeting your eyes with an unusual seriousness. "I've got an idea. I'm not exactly happy to do it, and I'm not sure if you are either. So let's say I owe you a favour if you do this." You had a faint inkling of what she might suggest, but more importantly you immediately began to fantasize about what sort of favour you could ask of her in return. So you readily agreed.
Looking up at the toe strap of her heel as she put on the other one had you excited. You had hoped she would ask you to be her inlay replacement, but didn't expect her to actually do just that. With her other shoe put on she looked over at you and bit her lip. "I hope you're ready." she sighed, her voice sounding anxious. She didn't really want to do this, but the prospect of a fun night out while rocking this outfit - plus your visible excitement to spend that night under her foot - did alleviate it somewhat. You watched her foot - her silky smooth toes, her pink sole - as it approached the shoe you were lying in, filling your vision more and more. Since you were even smaller than during the doormat incident, the now massive size of her foot was mesmerizing. Her foot suddenly stopped and you heard her say, "Last chance to back out. I won't get mad, I promise." You scoffed and told her to bring it on. She sighed, then navigated her foot onto the insole of the high heel. Her toes passed over your body and hovered above your face, so close you could make out the ridges on their bottoms. The ball of her foot loomed over your body, immense enough to entirely cover you easily. You smelt the scent of her feet, something you've smelt many times, in varying intensities, but your current smallness compared to her foot made it an entirely new experience. After another brief movement of hovering, her foot lowered itself down, at first resting on your chest while her toes - coming down above your head, encased you beneath her, though your fortunate positioning allowed you to look up between her toes. And there you saw her look down at her foot, bite her lip, and put her weight down on you. You were flattened almost instantly. Your upper body spread out beneath the ball of her foot, filling out the indentation it had left on shoe's insole. Your head was wedged between her big toe and her second toe, still allowing you to look up between them, though you felt the sides of your head starting to mould to her toes. Looking up from between her toes you saw her stand up, and though you wouldn't have thought it possible, you were indeed flattened even more beneath her weight. Still looking down at you she twisted her foot, scrunched her toes and took a few steps, making sure that you would actually work as expected. And while you felt your flattened body thin out even more and contort beneath the grinding movement of her foot, while your head was now just a thin strip of your face with toe shaped indentation on either sides, one thing you both noticed was that her foot remained more or less in place. With your now impaired vision, due to most of your face succumbing to her toes, you could just about make out that lovely smile of hers that made you fall in love with her some years ago. If she had said anything to you at that point, or afterwards, your ears were certainly unable to pick it up from their new spot beneath her toes. She began walking around, presumably gathering her things for the night, before heading out. As she walked on you the somewhat minimized movement of her foot in the shoe was still enough to spread you out just a little more, moulding you into the perfect footpad to secure her foot and cushion her steps. Your view between her toes was no more, as their movement had increasingly squished your face until it eventually ended up beneath her big and second toe simultaneously, being worked into the indentation on the shoes insole with every step she walked on you. Your muffled ears could make out voices, hers and her friends', at least until they got to the club. Then you mostly just felt the bass of the music, increasing in intensity each time she took a step forward in the line, before standing on you and waiting. This cycle repeated for a good while, during which you sometimes got to hear much more of the music and the hard to hear conversation happening above you, as your girlfriend occasionally lifted her toes, probably in an attempt to give you some relief and fresh air. This wouldn't keep up throughout the night though. In fact, when they finally entered the club, and especially once the dancing began, it started to feel like your girlfriend forgot all about you. She danced on you, grinding you beneath her as she let loose, stood on you while she waited for a drink at the bar, stomped you as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other to the beat of the music - and not once did she lift her toes from you. As the night went on and the heat in the club climbed, her foot sweat came into the mix. Along with the now fairly intense smell you felt body being covered in the salty sweat from her sole. The worst part was the sweat from her toes being rubbed into your face, until you began to be submerged in it as it pooled in the toe prints on the insole which your face was basically a part of. Unsure of where exactly your nose or your mouth was located, you were left with little choice but to swallow as much of her sweat as you could, if only so you could get a slither of air into your flattened lungs. You weren't entirely sure if you actually needed to breath, but being drowned in her sweat certainly made your body think so. The onslaught of her foot lasted for longer than you had the energy to keep track of. She continued dancing on you, walking on you, standing on you. Her toes either rested on top of you or actively crushed you, with only short windows of relief whenever she subconsciously lifted her toes to keep her balance. She had completely forgotten about you. You were, quite literally, just an inlay to keep her foot from slipping. A job that became increasingly harder the sweatier her foot became. It soon began to slide around more, which brought the pressure of her sole to new places on your body that had previously escaped some fraction of it.
Eventually the girls called it a night, thought that didn't mean your job was done yet. After several drinks your girlfriend walked unsteadily as she made her way home. Her sweaty foot twisted and slid on your body inside the shoe, flattening you to the point you were almost flush with her insole. There was a brief period of relief, when she stopped and took off her high heels. You were honestly surprised at that point that she actually remembered you. Except she didn't. Carrying both shoes by their straps she stumbled on barefoot through the night. She hadn't remembered you, she just decided being barefoot would be more comfortable at this point. You weren't too bothered. The cool night air, passing over you as you swung with her shoe, was a pleasant change. Yet only a few steps later you girlfriend suddenly decided that being barefoot wasn't more comfortable after all. And while her feet were somewhat less sweaty now, when she put her shoes back on you got acquainted with the grime now stuck to her soles, as well as the new added sent of street dirt mixed with foot sweat. When your girlfriend finally reached your apartment, you found yourself counting each step of the stairs, committing the final number to memory, just in case you would find yourself in another situation like this in the future. Inside the apartment you expected her to take off her heels right away, but instead she stumbled all the way into the bedroom and dropped down on your bed, before taking of her shoes. Almost blinded by the light it took your eyes a while to adjust until you could at last make out your drunk girlfriend sitting on the bed, looking down at her feet and rubbing them. You waited for her to notice you. You waited some more. Your girlfriend raised her gaze, rubbed her face, then stood up and began to undress. She still hadn't remembered. So, with your clay body flush with the insole of her high heel, her footprint stamped into you, covered in her sweat and grime, you watched you girlfriend, now nude, walk towards you, kick you along with her shoe aside, and climb into bed, leaving you stuck where you were for the rest of the night.
YOU ARE READING
Clay Human
RomanceA giantess fetish story written in 2nd person. Clayton can shrink at will and his body takes on properties similar to clay. Together with his girlfriend Lucy he explores his fetishes involving feet, giantesses and being used by them as doormats and...