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My Best Friend The Witch: Suckers
🕑 Added 2022-11-27 23:03:48 +0000 UTCMy best friend is a witch, a real spell-casting witch. I know you probably think that sounds cool, like Esme and I must have lots of fun adventures with her magic. I wish. Most often, I just feel terrified of her. She’s frighteningly powerful, as well as dangerous, reckless, and cruel.
Let me give you an example of what I mean.
***
I was home alone one afternoon, babysitting my twin baby brothers. They were hungry, and I was… feeding them.
I heard the front door open, and Adrian, my younger brother, walked in the room a moment later. He took one look at me, and his face twisted with disgust.
“Ew,” he said. “Jamie, what are you doing?”
“I didn’t think you would be home so soon,” I said, trying to think of some way to cover up.
“Are they…” He tried to think of the word. “...sucking on you?”
“Y-yeah,” I admitted, feeling the boys’ mouths slowly draining my milk-swollen chest.
Adrian held up a hand to shield his eyes from the sight of me. “Is this an Esme thing?” Adrian asked, walking across the room and pulling off his shoes as he approached the couch near the TV.
I sighed. “Yesterday, before we could go out together, I told her I needed to mix some formula for the babies. She didn’t want to wait, so she gave me a faster way to feed them.” I tried to ignore the sounds of the boys sucking.
“So,” he said, laying down on the couch and pulling off his stinky socks. “You’re like a cow now? Gross.”
“I’m not a cow, and I don’t want to do this,” I said. “But… they get heavy and sore if I don’t drain them, and this is the simplest way to do it.”
“What did mom say when she saw your big boobs?”
“She didn’t notice,” I said, feeling mostly drained now. “I think Esme put another glamor on me.” I looked at him, curiously. “Weird that you noticed, if she did.”
“It’d be weird if I didn’t notice,” he said, reaching over to grab the remote to find something he wanted to watch. “Whatever. I’m just glad she’s picking on you for now.”
Again, the front door opened. Adrian glanced at it and did a proper double-take at what he had seen, his face filling with fear.
“Esme?” I said just before she walked into the room.
“Hi, Jaime,” she said, but her eyes were focused on the couch where Adrian lay. “Adrian, you’re in my seat.”
“W-wait,” my brother said, holding up his hands, defensively.
Esme pointed a finger at him, her eyes glowed with eerie green light, and we all felt a rush of energy blast from her like a magic bullet. The spell struck Adrian, and, before he could respond, his body began to rapidly shrink, clothes and all. In a second, he was half his normal size and still dwindling away. Esme walked over to the couch as he became doll-sized, then bug-sized, until finally shrinking away into nothing.
“There we go,” Esme said, planting her butt on the couch right where Adrian had disappeared.
“Esme!” I cried, feeling my baby brother’s lips unlatching from my nipples. “What did you do to him?”
Esme was focused on removing her boots. “You saw what I did,” she said, pulling them off one by one. “I shrank him.”
“Is he okay? Did you just crush him?”
With her boots off, Esme spun sideways to lay on the couch in the same position Adrian had been in. “Relax,” she said, getting comfortable. “He’s fine, just super tiny, like microscopic. If he wasn’t practically indestructible right now, he would be too small to even find.”
“But…” I said.
“He’s either stuck in the fibers of the couch cushion or tangled up in my skirt. Either way, he won’t be bothering us for now.”
I wanted to get up and move her to try to find Adrian, but the twins were looking uncomfortably full now. I would need to burp them, first. “Turn him back,” I said, not really expecting Esme to listen to me, but I said it anyway.
“Why?” she said, sounding genuinely confused. “He’ll grow back to normal on his own sometime tonight.”
“Esme…” I said, while patting baby Ron’s back as baby Jon waited anxiously for his burping.
“What?” she said. “He’s not in any danger.”
Ron spit up on the towel on my shoulder. I wiped his mouth and swapped over to Jon. “Make him bigger,” I said. “You’re not leaving him microscopic for the whole day.”
“But…” she said. “He’s such a pest. Do I have to?”
Jon let out a blessedly dry burp. “Yes,” I said. “You have to.”
Esme groaned and said, “Fine.” Her eyes glowed a moment. Then, she slid her hand beneath her butt and pulled out what looked like a little boy doll, only we both knew it wasn’t a doll. She held up little Adrian, who dangled helplessly in her fingers, and said, “Happy now?”
“Esme…”
“He’s not microscopic anymore,” she said.
“He’s still tiny.”
“He’s perfectly safe,” Esme said. “Look at this.” She tossed him into the air and caught him.
“Stop!” I said.
She ignored me and then tossed him up again, slightly fumbling her catch this time and chuckling to herself. It distubed me, like I was watching a cat play with a mouse.
“Put him down!” I said.
This time, Esme noticed me and said, “Fine, here.”
I gasped in horror as Esme flung my doll-sized brother across the room at me, his limbs flailing as he flew my way. With my arms full of babies, I could do nothing but watch as Adrian landed in my lap bouncing once against my thigh before settling in the valley made by my legs. I reached down past the twins to retrieve the tiny boy and hold him up for inspection. For a moment, I feared that he might be hurt, but he appeared to be only a little frightened and disorientated. It was such a strange thing to see him at this size. He looked normal, only reduced to four inches tall. One of the twins held out a pudgy hand to grab him as if he were a new toy to play with, but I tried to move Adrian out of the baby’s reach.
“So,” Esme said, “I thought we might hang out here for a little while until your mom gets home. Then, we could go shopping later.”
I stood up, my big boobs still hanging out, my twin brothers held in each arm, my tiny brother clutched in my hand, and glared at Esme. She ignored me, focusing her attention on finding something to watch on TV. I really wanted to scream right then, but I held it in, as I usually did around Esme.
“I’m taking the babies to their crib,” I said and left the room. I needed a minute to compose myself, and this was the best excuse I had.
I climbed the stairs, thinking about how weird it was that I was carrying all three of my brothers in my arms all at once. I set Adrian down on a shelf and lay the twins in their crib. After a stop in the bathroom to wash up, I put on a new bra and shirt and nearly went downstairs without picking up Adrian again.
I collected him from the shelf and asked, “Are you alright?”
He said something to me in response, but I couldn’t hear it. His voice was either too quiet or too high pitched to be audible to me now. “Sorry,” I said. “I can’t understand you. I’ll try to get you back to normal before we go.”
I returned to the living room, where I found Esme laughing at something on TV. I sat back down where I had been before and set my brother on the armrest beside me.
“This is hilarious,” Esme said and laughed uproariously.
“Yeah,” I said, not even able to force a smile. “Hilarious.”
***
My mother came home a little while later. She didn’t even blink an eye at the sight of my tiny brother. It appeared that Esme was getting good at her glamor spells in addition to her shrinking spells.
Once my mother was upstairs, changing out of her work clothes, Esme said, “Let’s get going.”
“What about Adrian?” I asked, pointing at the tiny boy sitting patiently on the armrest.
Esme sat up and said, “I don’t know. Let the babies play with him as a new toy.”
Adrian turned to me and shook his head.
“No,” I said. “That wouldn’t be safe for any of them.”
“You don’t have a gerbil cage or something?” Esme asked.
“No.”
Esme stood up and took a step toward me, nearly tripping on Adrian’s regular-sized shoes. The annoyed look on her face was immediately replaced by a smirk when she noticed his socks on the floor.
“Hand him over,” Esme said. “I have an idea.”
I made no effort to hand my brother to her, but she grabbed him by herself and walked him over to his own discarded socks and shoes. She picked up one of his socks and scrunched up her nose at the smell of it.
“Gross,” she said. Then, holding the top of the sock open with one hand, she dangled Adrian’s little kicking and flailing body above it before dropping him inside his own stinky sock. The sock writhed for a moment, until Esme folded the top over, trapping him inside.
“Esme, don’t,” I said, even though I knew she wouldn’t listen. “Let him out.”
Ignoring me, Esme turned to one of his shoes and firmly crammed the boy-filled sock into it. Then, she did the same with the empty sock and the other shoe. Carrying the pair of Adrian’s shoes in one hand, Esme walked over to the closet and set them neatly inside, resting beside each other on the floor of the closet along with other shoes and boots. At a glance, no one would notice anything out-of-the-ordinary.
After shutting the closet door, Esme declared, “All done. He’ll be safe in there.”
“You mean he’ll be trapped in there,” I said.
“If he’s stuck in a shoe, he can’t get himself into any trouble,” she reasoned. “Now, can he?”
I sighed. Esme had made her decision, and I knew I had little chance of changing her mind now. Poor Adrian would just need to tough it out inside his own shoe until the spell wore off. “Alright,” I said. “Let’s go shopping.”
Esme smiled and ran back to the couch to put on her boots. I just stood there staring at the closet, wondering how I would fare if I was stuck in that kind of stink for hours. By the time we had left the house, I had decided not to think about it anymore.
***
Later that night, after Esme and I had finished shopping and she had gone home, Adrian emerged from the closet with a stunned look on his face.
“You alright?” I asked, turning my attention from my homework.
He shook his head and said, “I need a bath,” before wandering off. I heard his footsteps slowly climbing the stairs followed by water flowing into the tub above me.
***
Most often, that would be the end of the story when it came to Esme’s spells. She would pull some cruel trick on Adrian or me or some other poor fool. Then, the magic would wear off along with the damage caused by it, and we would just try to go on with our lives, pretending that the awful traumatizing thing she had done never really happened.
This time, though, Adrian would not let it go.
Any time he came near socks or bare feet, he was visibly repulsed by them. His revulsion was so strong that he wore his shoes everywhere in the house now, just to avoid seeing his own feet, which most likely was not making his foot odor problem any better.
So, one afternoon a few days later, when he entered the living room and noticed me sitting on the couch with my bare feet pulled up beside me, he groaned.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Do you have to put your gross feet on the cushions like that?” he asked, taking a seat on the chair furthest from me.
“My feet are clean,” I said. “Nothing gross about them.”
“They’re disgusting,” he insisted. “All feet are gross and stinky.” Then, going for extra emphasis, he added, “Especially girl feet.”
At just that moment, the toilet flushed in the downstairs bathroom behind Adrian, and after washing her hands, Esme emerged from the door seconds later.
“What’d you say about girl feet?” Esme asked as she walked over to him.
The horrified look on Adrian’s face was priceless, but I was too worried about what Esme might do now to really appreciate his expression.
“N-nothing,” he said. “They’re fine.”
Esme smirked and said, “Well then, why don’t you go sit on the couch next to Jamie’s feet?”
He got up from the chair and sat down beside me, trying his best to hide his disgust from being in close proximity to my feet.
Esme took a seat in the chair he had just vacated and said, “You know what? I have an idea.”
“Esme…” I said, trying to put a halt to whatever her idea was.
“It’s fine,” Esme said. “I just want to help your brother. Clearly, I must have given him a foot phobia. How about we reverse that?”
“No,” I said. “Don’t.”
Esme’s eyes lit up green, and I expected something to happen to Adrian. However, the magic was focused on my own feet, instead. I watched in stunned amazement as my feet began to grow. At first, I hoped that they were only swelling, but then I noticed them extending longer and wider as well.
“Why?” I asked as my feet expanded to the same size as my father’s feet and continued growing until I had a pair of enormous clown feet at the end of my ordinary girl legs. Finding it hard to believe that these were actually my feet, I tried flexing my toes and was disturbed to see those thick digits move. They felt heavy and somewhat sweaty. I sat sideways on the couch and stretched my legs in front of me, letting my feet stand straight upright with little concern for how close they were to my brother. They were nearly a foot long now and almost half as wide.
“Why?” I asked, again.
As if in response, Adrian began sniffing the air. I expected him to gag and make some comment about how disgusting my feet were. To my surprise, he leaned in closer to my toes to get a better smell of them.
“Mmm,” Adrian moaned in pleasure. “That smell is… amazing.”
“What?” I said as he pressed his face against my toes and took a huge whiff.
Feeling creeped out, I pulled my huge feet away from him, and he just sat there with a dazed look on his face as if he were half asleep or drunk.
“Intoxicating,” Esme said. “Aren’t they, Adrian?”
He nodded, eyes unfocused as though his mind had gone empty.
“You see,” Esme said to me, “your feet are now producing a stink that kids will find strangely pleasurable. The more smelling they do, the better it will make them feel, until they become addicted to your foot odor.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked.
Esme shook her head.
I looked at my brother, still sitting there in a mindless stupor. “What’s wrong with him?”
Esme looked at him and smiled, “He’s experiencing a side effect of your new foot odor. His mind is now wide open to suggestions. You could order him to do anything now, and he would have no choice but to do it.”
“Can’t you snap him out of it?”
“Watch this,” Esme said. “Adrian, from now on, you are only allowed to sniff your sister’s foot odor after she gives you permission to do it. Otherwise, you will prevent yourself from smelling it. Understand?”
He nodded and blinked, and then he shook his head to clear it. “W-what’s going on?” he asked, as though he had just woken up.
“You were just smelling your sister’s feet,” Esme said. “Want to give them another sniff?”
“Uh…” he said, looking uncertain. “I think… yeah, I do.”
“Ask her,” Esme said.
“Jaime,” Adrian said to me, “can I smell your feet again, please?”
“No,” I said. “Keep away from them.”
Adrian stood up and backed away a few steps. “Please,” he said. “I’ll do anything if you let me have another sniff. Just one sniff?”
“Esme,” I said to her, “this is really creeping me out. You’ve got to undo this.”
“Why?” she said. “It’s funny.”
“Look at him,” I said. “He’s like a zombie or something now.”
Adrian stood there, staring at my feet with a hungry look on his face.
“He’s your slave now,” Esme said. “You could tell him to do anything, and he would do it… if you let him smell your feet again afterwards.”
“I don’t want him smelling my feet,” I said. “I don’t want anyone smelling them. Just turn my feet back to normal again and fix him, please.”
“Nope,” Esme said.
“Esme…”
“Just try it out for this weekend. If you still hate it on Monday, then I’ll reverse it all.”
I sighed, realizing that Emse was enjoying this too much to have her mind changed, now. I would have to put up with this for the weekend.
***
The day dragged on as did walking with these huge feet. It felt like I was wearing diving flippers with exercise weights on my ankles. I did appreciate the extra inch of height they gave me due to how thick they were, but that only made me feel more clumsy, nearly causing me to stub my toes a couple of times and almost trip and fall down the stairs. Meanwhile, Adrian kept his distance as I had ordered him, but he followed me everywhere I went, keeping out of sight as best as he could. I spotted him now and then, sneaking a peek at me and my feet from around a corner or through a partially opened door.
I took a shower, hoping to clean the stink off my feet, but they were sweaty and smelly again only an hour later. Then, I went to bed early, hoping to sleep away this weekend.
The next morning I woke up to the shock of Adrian sitting in my doorway, staring at the sizable lump my feet made under my blanket. I yelled at him to leave me alone, and he slunk away sadly.
Our parents went out shopping, leaving us home alone with me babysitting Adrian. I lay on the couch with my enormous feet standing up at the other end. Adrian hid in the hallway, peeking out at me now and then. Finally, I was fed up with him spying on me.
“Get in here and sit on the other chair,” I ordered him.
He did as I said without a word.
I considered getting up and making some popcorn, but the idea of walking over to the kitchen and back on these goofy feet made me think better of trying it. If only someone else would do it for me…
I looked at Adrian, who was waiting eagerly for me to command him.
Although I knew I would probably regret it later, I gave him an order. “Adrian,” I said, “make us some popcorn and grab some cans of cola from the fridge for us. Okay?”
“Do I get to smell them if I do?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I said. “It depends on how satisfied I feel with your service.”
“I’m on it,” he said and ran off to the kitchen.
A short while later, he returned with two bowls of popcorn, one with more salt than the other, so that I could pick which one I preferred. Then, he gave me a glass of cola with ice. I thanked him and watched some more TV while enjoying my snack.
A little later, I was feeling somewhat uncomfortable on the couch.
“I wish I had another pillow,” I said.
Adrian ran off and returned with armfuls of pillows to help me out. I let him build up a small mountain of pillows behind my back and even allowed him to put one beneath the heels of my huge feet.
I saw how he looked at them with an expression of aching desire on his face. It was pitiful. I felt sorry for him. While it was Esme’s fault that he was feeling so obsessed with my feet, I was to blame for not letting him satisfy his craving for them.
“If you give me a foot massage,” I said, realizing that I needed one, “then I’ll let you smell them while you do.”
“Really?” he asked, hopefully.
I nodded.
He smiled and took a seat beside my feet and after a moment of reverence to appreciate them, he grabbed one and started massaging it with his little thumbs as he pressed his face against my toes and took a big whiff.
The noises he made worried me, some kind of uncontrollable grunting and moaning. His body shook as if overwhelmed by pleasure. He kept massaging as he went, which made the experience a little less unpleasant. In fact, I was almost enjoying it after a while, although nowhere near as much as he was.
After my feet felt well massaged and he appeared fully satisfied, he looked at me with a slightly embarrassed expression on his face and announced that he had to go upstairs to do homework. He hurried out of the room as if he were trying to escape what he had done in there.
After that, I did not see him again all day.
***
The day after, we were home alone together again, and Adrian approached me with a look of growing desperation on his face.
“Can I give you another massage?” he asked me as I sat at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich.
I shook my head.
“Please?” he begged. “I… need it again.”
I sighed. “Well, we’re supposed to clean up the downstairs. If you did all the dusting and vacuuming, then I’ll let you near my feet again.”
“Sure,” he said, but there was no emotion in his response. He just sounded resigned to his fate. Clearly, whatever I would have asked him to do, he had already committed to do it.
So, I rested comfortably as he did more work. When the downstairs of the house was cleaned, I allowed him to touch and smell my feet again while I was breastfeeding the twins.
This time, though, I felt his sniffing interrupted by an odd wetness at one point.
“Ew!” I said, pulling my feet away. “Did you just lick me?”
“I…” he said, a look of shame on his face. “I didn’t mean to. It just… happened.”
“I never said you could do that.”
“Please,” he said. “I’ll wash them up when I’m done. The taste it’s… I need it.”
I sighed, realizing that it would be unpleasant, but seeing how desperate he was, I gave in.
“Fine,” I said. “So long as you clean up when you’re done.”
I set my feet down beside him, and he immediately began licking between my toes. It was a weird sensation, but now that I was expecting it, I did not mind it as much as I thought I would. In fact, I found it almost funny. As Adrian began sucking on my toes just the same as our baby brothers were sucking on my nipples, I came to the odd realization that I had all of my brothers’ saliva on my body at that moment. All of them were happily tasting me.
Soon, when their needs were all satisfied, Adrian ran off to get some wet wipes and a towel to clean up my feet and wipe up the twins’ faces before carrying them one at a time back to their crib.
I lay there, feeling oddly satisfied by the whole experience.
***
“Well?” Esme asked me the next day.
“I don’t… hate it,” I admitted. “But-”
“Hold on,” Esme said, interrupting me. “Before you finish that thought, let me share an idea with you.”
I sighed. “What is it?”
“Think about the money-making potential of your body.”
“No,” I said.
“We just need to get a few more people begging to smell your feet. Then, we start charging them for the privilege.”
“No.”
“We’d split the profits fifty-fifty.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s already cost my family money to buy new shoes. I mean, look at these things,” I said, pointing at my enormous basketball shoes. “My mom had to take me to a specialty store for athletes to find something that would fit me.”
“All the more reason to use those feet to make some money back.”
“I don’t want other students in our school paying to smell my feet.”
“Fine,” Esme said. “We’ll use Adrian’s friends. You just need to order him to bring them over one-by-one. Then, he can force them to-”
“No,” I said.
“Just a few whiffs.”
I sighed, seeing how excited Esme was. Not only did she see the opportunity to make a profit, but she was clearly enjoying the perverse thrill of messing with me and some boys. I knew I had little chance of stopping her, but I intended to hold out as long as I could.
That ended up being for only a few days.
***
Although I did not know about it at the time, I later found out that Esme had gone straight to my brother with her plan, offering him some kind of bribe if he would have a sleepover with a few friends. So, that Thursday night, while I was asleep, Adrian played “truth or dare” with his buddies, daring one of them to smell my feet as I slept. The boy did it, and then he decided to dare someone else to do it as well. By the end of the night, all of my brother’s guests had gotten to know my foot odor. The last one had needed some extra persuasion, being dragged into my room unwillingly by the rest of them where they forced him to smell my feet.
I only discovered this game had occurred when I woke up the next morning with Adrian’s friends at the foot of my bed, sniffing and smiling in giddy excitement. I ordered all of them to stop it and get out of my room. They did, but I could see the extreme reluctance on their faces. Clearly, they were all hooked on my foot odor, already.
After that, the boys from the sleepover started showing up every day with the excuse that they wanted to spend time with Adrian. However, they just waited around hopefully, begging my brother to ask me to give them another chance to smell my feet.
“They’ll do anything for you,” Adrian said.
“No,” I replied.
“They’ll pay you.”
I sighed.
Then, as if she had planned it, Esme walked in the front door and entered the living room with a smug smile on her face.
“So?” she asked me. “Should I start collecting admission fees?”
I sighed again, realizing that it was time to give up and let her do what she wanted as per usual.
***
What started with that group of my brother’s four friends and himself, gradually started to expand to include more and more students from his class. Once the line to smell my feet had gotten so long that kids were waiting all the way out the door, down the driveway, and to the sidewalk, Esme decided that bringing them in two at a time for a few minutes of bliss was too slow.
I just happened to be breast feeding the twins again at that moment, which gave her another twisted idea.
“What if,” she said, “we did the same thing with your milk as we did with your feet.”
“No,” I said, despite knowing that it would not deter her at all.
“I’ll just make the milk as addictive as your feet.”
“No.”
“Of course,” Esme said, “We’ll need to up your production rate.”
My already swollen breasts swelled even larger, more than doubling in size as my twin brothers sucked from them, growing increasingly excited as the flavor of the milk improved. When the twins were full and belching up their meals, I could tell that they were already craving more, even though they had no place left to put it in their little bodies.
“There,” she said. “Now, you can handle four people at a time.”
Esme started directing paying customers to my chest as well as my feet after that. The ones that did seemed to enjoy my milk as much as they enjoyed my feet. While you might think that I would hate having other students drinking from my breasts, considering how intimate a part of me that my nipples are, I had grown accustomed to the sucking from my experience with breastfeeding my brothers.
“What’s the saying?” Esme asked, staring at her handiwork. “‘There’s a sucker born every minute?’”
She chuckled to herself, but I didn’t find it all that funny.
***
After that session ended, we found ourselves hundreds of dollars richer. We also found that I could barely stand up with the weight of my enlarged boobs dragging me down. While my huge feet gave me some balance, my shoulders were sore and my back ached. Esme, of course, had a perfect solution for that, which, naturally, involved transforming my body to be even more absurd.
If I could not bear the weight, then I would need to get stronger, she figured. So, my muscles swelled up, tearing apart my clothes, until I looked like a teenage girl bodybuilder. As powerful as that made me feel, I could not look in the mirror without thinking of myself as a total freak. Big boobs. Big muscles. Big feet. My ordinary face, the only normal part of me that remained, seemed strangely out of place now.
While making me muscular solved some problems, it created the new problem of finding clothes that I could wear. My cut of the money from that afternoon was not enough to afford a whole new wardrobe to fit my bigger body, but in a few days, after a few more sessions, I had earned a decent profit. As the cash started to pile up, I found I had fewer complaints about my altered body. It’s amazing what you will put up with to earn some money.
Not long after that, when we were in the locker room for gym class, Esme started to quietly sneak my socks around the room, getting our classmates to smell them accidentally. That was enough to get some of the girls hooked. Eventually, Esme somehow even managed to get some boys hooked as well. When I asked her why she did that after I told her not to get kids from our school involved, she said she “forgot.”
Nothing felt normal after that. Wherever I went, there was someone craving sucking on me. At home, my brothers all wanted a taste, so I would give my nipples to the babies and my feet to Adrian every afternoon as we waited for the crowd to arrive at 4 o’clock. During school, I had a constant entourage of milk and foot lovers to follow me around wherever I went. They carried my bag for me and waited in line to buy me lunch. They offered all kinds of favors, including helping me cheat on homework and tests. I didn’t take them up on the cheating, but I let them all buy me lunch, since I was craving a lot more food now that my body was so muscular and my breasts were producing so much milk.
It was awkward going from seeing them in class to having them show up later that day to start desperately sucking on me, drinking from my nipples or slathering saliva all over my feet. Then, when their sucking time was up they would say, “See you at lunch tomorrow,” or, “Don’t forget the science test,” or something like that, reminding me again just how weird this all was.
***
Not much later, it was taking hours to get through the line of people waiting, meaning that my day was becoming mostly just going to school and laying around being sucked on until it was time to clean up and go to bed. Then, we started to hear rumors of kids stealing money from each other or their parents, just to afford a little more time tasting me. I told Esme that we would need to put an end to this sooner rather than later.
“Not yet,” she said. “Just a little longer. We’re making so much money now.”
I sighed, laying there on the couch, wanting to be back to normal.
“I love you so much,” Esme said, but she was not talking to me. She was staring at my breasts and my bare feet. She gave my foot a quick kiss and paused, surprised by something.
“Esme?” I said. “Are you okay?”
“Um,” she said, taking a step back with a concerned look on her face. “Yeah, sure. I’m fine.”
“You’re not getting addicted, too?”
“Of course not,” she said, scoffing at me. “Do you really think I would cast a spell that could trap myself? I’m basically immune. I mean, I’d need to spend hours in contact with your feet or milk for the magic to have any effect on me. Don’t worry.”
She walked off to prepare for our customers. Meanwhile, I lay there, trying to recall how long it had been since she had cursed my feet and breasts. I estimated just how much cumulative time she had spent in their presence. Had it already been hours?
Before I had a chance to think it through, Esme already started sending customers in to suck on me. Strangely, she came in to watch them this time. She watched the next group as well, staring at them enjoying my feet and breasts. Was that envy I saw in her eyes?
Before she sent in the third group, she told me, “I have an idea.”
“What is it?” I asked, dreading what she would say next.
“We need to speed this up even more,” Esme said.
Before I could reply, her eyes began to glow green and I felt my feet and breasts growing even larger.
“Esme!” I said. “No. Cut it out! They’re too big already!”
She ignored my words and kept growing me. Soon, space was running out on the couch, so I turned my body to set my expanding feet on the floor, just before my swelling breasts hung low enough to rest on my lap, trapping me where I sat beneath their soft weight. I gazed down past the growing pair of fleshy hills to see my feet stretching out to be even longer than my legs. My body had become mostly breast tissue and feet by that point and my proportions were only getting more ridiculous.
“Esme, please,” I begged her. “No more! I can’t move!”
Only after my breasts had become as tall as she was did she stop transforming me. I could no longer see my feet past my breasts, but I could tell they must be enormous now as their odor had begun to fill the room. At the same time, I could feel a continuous stream of warm milk leaking from my giant nipples and flowing down my breasts to puddle on the floor.
Esme left the room to return a minute later with cash in hand and at least a dozen students following behind her. Working together in a pair of teams, they lifted my feet to stand them upright. I could see my toes now, and frowned to find the biggest of them had become as large as my head.
With my feet in place, the students split up. Some begin drinking from my boulder-sized breasts like a fountain. Others started sniffing and licking and rubbing themselves against a pair of feet as large as they were. I could hear them loudly enjoying themselves. Meanwhile, I just felt as if I had frisky rats crawling on me.
“Esme?” I said, not seeing her face nearby. “Where are you? This has gone too far. We need to stop.”
Esme appeared. She stood up between my feet with milk dripping from her face, an expression of pure bliss on her face. Then, she turned her attention to my foot, hugging her body against it and licking the underside of the joints of my big toe, where the pungent sweat was thickest.
“No, Esme,” I said. “You need to snap out of it. Listen to me! You have to turn me back to normal, now!”
Esme showed no sign that she had heard me and kept on worshiping my foot.
More students began to swarm into the room, most likely drawn by the smell of milk and feet. They crowded around my breasts and feet and fought to get close to the smells and tastes they desired.
I wanted to grab Esme and shake some sense into her, but I could not reach her. I was trapped under the weight of my own body, while everyone else was trapped by their addiction to it. How would we escape this now if Esme was just as addicted now as the rest of them?
I gave in to despair. It all seemed hopeless. Why had I let it go this far? No amount of money was worth this.
“The money!” I said, as an idea came to me. “Esme? Listen!”
I saw her glance at my face, and I took that as an acknowledgement that she had heard me.
“Esme,” I said. “Look around. Most of these kids have not paid. They’re getting it all for free. You’re losing money!”
It took a few moments for what I had said to sink in, but once it did, Esme stopped licking and looked around the room. She frowned as she realized I was right.
“Hey,” Esme said. “Who let you all in?”
The students paid her no attention.
“Stop it, now,” Esme said. “Go home!”
They kept on going, ignoring her.
I said, “Esme, you’ll need to take it all away from them. Turn me back to normal.”
Esme nodded. “That’s right,” she said. “If you kids won’t listen to me, then I’m putting an end to it all.”
Her eyes glowed like light bulbs, followed by a burst of energy that filled the room, stunning everyone in there. Then, my body began to shrink, my feet reduced in size as my breasts deflated like overfilled balloons. Once my body got out of the way, I got a better view of the confused students standing there, their faces soaked with milk or shiny with saliva. All around, the smell of feet filled the air, seeping into their hair and clothes. When my body was nearly back to normal, their expressions shifted to disgust. They seemed grossed out now by the smell that they had so deeply desired before. The addiction was being cured as its source disappeared. At last, when my body had reverted back to normal. Everyone was so grossed out, that they covered their noses and ran out of the house to escape the stink of milk and feet. Only Esme and I remained.
After an awkward moment of eye contact, during which the memory of Esme licking my feet and drinking my milk was still fresh, she averted her eyes from me.
“I’ll get some towels,” Esme said, looking at the milk that had pooled on the carpet.
She exited the room, and I lay there, ignoring the stink, feeling relieved to have survived it all.
***
Esme admitted that cleaning up with magic was probably beyond her skill level, so it ended up costing us most of our money to hire professional cleaners to soak up the milk residue and get the stinking foot odor out of the living room. They did a decent job, but after that, I could always detect just a hint of spoiled milk or stinky feet when I sat in there watching TV.
After the clean up was over, we never spoke of the whole ordeal ever again.
***
You would think that I would avoid Esme after that, but I still let her come over to see me. Unsurprisingly, I’m the only friend she has left.
When we were kids, Esme used to be pretty normal. She was a witch, yeah, but her magic was pretty weak. We had a good sized group of friends. Then, as we became teens, Esme’s magical powers grew even stronger. I mean, she turned some poor boy into a giant woman one day at the beach. He kind of deserved it, but that scared us. We could see clearly how dangerous she was now. One by one, our other friends started making excuses for why they were too busy to hang out with us anymore. I was dumb enough to be the last one left with Esme, and as long as I’m her friend, everyone else avoids me just the same as Esme.
I considered leaving as well, but then I realized what that would mean. Esme without any friends would be even more dangerous. She might even want to do something awful to us out of spite, like put a curse on us or something worse. The truth is, I’m too scared of her to tell her I don’t really want to be friends anymore. I think she might have realized how I feel, but she keeps coming over to hang out. Maybe she’s trying to torture me. Maybe she’s so lonely that she’d rather have an unwilling friend than no friend at all. I don’t know, but whatever the reason, we’re stuck with each other.
So, we carry on together, pretending to be best friends while I dread every time she visits. There’s more to say, but that’s enough for now. Wish me luck. I’ll need it.
