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Shrinker on the Orient Express (8) - Paris to Munich 4
🕑 Added 2020-12-20 21:44:56 +0000 UTCParched was an understatement for the level of dehydration that Dom was suffering. Far above him, the giantess brunette was happily enjoying her lunch, sipping her juice bottle as she watched the German countryside pass by. She was enjoying the cool drink that soothed her over-warm self, fighting the summer heat along with the faint cooling system of the train.
In her sock, the heat was even more overwhelming than what the goddess herself felt. Her fleshy soles were radiating thermal energy like furnaces. Dom’s own sweat was washed away by the huge beads of stale smelling moisture than oozed out of her pores. The sharp, salty liquid was all around him, and Dom felt sick, but it was the only water he was afforded.
Closing his eyes, he made up his mind, and opened his mouth: he had to stay alive. Dom stuck his tongue out, feeling the bead of Marianne’s sweat beside his face. His puny tongue only just touched the orb of fluid when it burst, shooting into his mouth and covering his face. He wanted to vomit, but his bone dry throat wouldn’t allow him to sacrifice that much liquid. Instead, he reluctantly swallowed the gulp of vile, salty mixture, forcing himself to keep it down as he struggled to survive in the hellish heat.
Marianne had no idea what she was putting the shrunken man through, as he twisted his little head, in search of more to drink, sucking in her disgusting foot sweat in order to survive.
***
‘Prochain arrêt, Munich Gare Centrale. Nexte halte, Munich Haupt Banhoff.’
Dom barely heard the announcement from beneath his captor’s foot. He could barely hear anything at all, smothered by her fleshy sole. He had been trapped in place for so long that he had lost track of time, but the gentle voice of the passenger announcement system snapped him back into reality.
The tiny man felt movement int he colossal woman above him, as she got her things together, ready to leave the train. She packed her bag quickly and the yawned, more exhausted from her day of travel than she should have been. She stretched her arms over her head and raised her legs into the air, toes pointed down.
In her sock, the diminutive Dom felt his body bend backwards as she accentuated the arch of her foot. He didn’t mind the cool sweat that he was pushed through, as he was already soaked in the stuff, no different than the cotton sock that held him. The British boy couldn’t smell anything but the giantess’s feet, so totally was he immersed in it.
Marianne felt his body slip against the creases of her skin and she smiled. As much as she had wanted to punish the little creature, he had made her journey more enjoyable for being there. She extended her toes, pulling the fabric tight against her sole, and feeling the powerless man press into her skin. It tickled her a little, so she pressed her foot down into the carpet, crushing him with the slightest effort. Dom seized in agony, but was unable to really move against the wall of meat.
Marianne watched the scenery change from farmlands to town houses, the buildings becoming older and more Gothic as they neared the city centre, and the old station. The train slowed to a crawl as they crept along the platform and Marianne contemplated taking the little man with her. But then a thought popped into her mind.
What if someone else had been playing with him before she herself had boarded? What if that person had forgotten him and would come looking for him? Surely she couldn’t kidnap him if in fact, he was not even really spying on her. She felt a little bad about what she had put him through, but decided that the best thing she could do was to leave him on the train, so that whoever he had come on with could eventually find him. She smiled at her own kindness as she raised her foot, slipping down her sock to reveal her captive.
Dom squinted as light flooded his eyes and mild more fresh, cool air whisked away the stench that clung around him. The moist cotton disappeared from his back and was replaced with a firm finger pulp. The goddess wanted him to stick to her finger, so she pressed against him, smothering him against her sweaty sole with her finger, before finally withdrawing both from under her foot.
She raised him up to her waist, but didn’t look at him. Instead, she rubbed her fingers together, rolling Dom off of her digits and onto the seat beside her. He landed on his side but didn’t move. Marianne frowned, glancing down at him for long enough to check that he was breathing. Once she was satisfied, she slipped on her shoes, stood up and turned to leave.
Dom coughed, joyfully sucking in the un tainted air, celebrating his freedom from his smelly prison. He heard Marianne walking out and joining the throng of people exiting the train, leaving him along in the cabin once more. Was this what he was destined to endure now? To be abused and then left for a new person to have a crack at him? Dom started to laugh, his eyes watering as he thought about how ridiculous his situation was. His laughter quickly faded to tears and sobs as his brain rationalised that there was little chance of him breaking the vicious cycle he was finding himself in. All he could do was pray that the next passenger was kinder to him than the French woman had been.
