The Transformatrix

He looked into her eyes and he was lost. Deep brown and with a sense of knowledge that defied her apparent youth, her eyes pulled him in just as he was about to get up from his seat and leave the café. Mere moments ago he'd been sitting at a table alone, absentmindedly nursing a latte when she sat down opposite him. She asked if the seat was taken but sat before he could answer...as if she knew he was alone. They exchanged acknowledging nods as she sat and immediately ignored him, sipping her coffee and thumbing through messages on her phone.

He nonchalantly took her in: dark, shoulder-length hair, teak complexion, tall...with a casual, surprising, strength underlying her frame. She was dressed in a simple blouse and skirt combination that exposed a deep cleavage and lots of leg. And her feet were shod in elegant sandals, showing off perfectly pedicured toes and high arches.

She caught his appraising glances and held his gaze before she returned her attention to her phone. For his part, he felt something skitter down his spine and goose bumps rise on his forearms. Even though she wasn't looking at him, he could still see her eyes peering into his, as though an after-image lingered. He sat there staring into the image of those intense, beautiful eyes that was seemingly burned into his brain. In the back of his mind he noticed that everything had gone silent. He shifted his view from left to right and saw people moving about, talking, laughing, but he couldn't hear a single sound. Just as a panic began to rise in him, he saw that her lips were moving, forming words that he couldn't hear but could make out regardless.

"Don't be afraid," she seemed to be saying. "I just needed the two of us to be alone together here." He had to pay very close attention to her lips as they formed the words he suddenly felt compelled to "hear". Such full, gorgeously shaped lips he had never seen in his life. They were perfect and he couldn't take his eyes off of them even if he wanted to. Red lipstick, sweetened with a shiny lip gloss completely captivated him and he relaxed as she continued.

"You're alone together with me, in the midst of all these people and you love it, don't you?" He nodded. Her smile made her lips even more beautiful to him and he couldn't help leaning forward to be closer to them. Watching them change shape was the single-most erotic thing he'd ever seen and he felt it in his pulse, and his shallow breathing, and his twitching cock. He was so caught up in lip reading that he didn't even feel embarrassed about his growing hard-on.

Without warning her voice became audible but it was the only thing in the room he could hear. It was low and smooth and powerful. And beautiful...just like her. "I've been watching you sit here all afternoon. I've also been watching you watch the women who come and go. More importantly, you've been watching their feet." He was too busy listening to her voice and gazing at her lips that he couldn't be bothered to feel nervous about being busted. In fact, being found out made him even more aroused.

"You're a foot fetishist, that much is clear. I like foot fetishists. But what kind of foot fetishist are you? Do you just like shoes?" Suddenly he could see every sexy pair of shoes that he'd spied on all afternoon parade by his mind's eye. "Or is it just feet?" The parade repeated itself but this time, the women were shoeless. His breathing became a little shallower and she smiled again. "Yes, it would be just feet. I can always tell. But you're a little different, I sense."

Now he was starting to wonder how she knew all this and how she was putting images in his mind. He opened his mouth to ask but she took a firm hold on his jaw, forcing his mouth to stay closed. He couldn't believe the strength in that grip! He should have been frightened by it but when he smelled the perfume that was on her wrist, he relaxed again. The scent soothed him and kept his brain a little foggy, just like she'd planned. "Don't talk, pet. Just listen." She loosened her grip and began to gently stroke the side of his face, from ear to chin and back again. His mind fogged over even more and all he could see was her. All he could hear was her.

"That's a good boy. You've been watching women's feet as the sit here. You've watched them slide their feet in and out of their shoes, dangle their shoes off their toes. You've paid close attention to the soles of their feet as they've walked around here, haven't you, pet?" He slowly nodded as her hand continued to stroke his face. "You've wanted to be under the feet of these women, haven't you?" His eyes were now glassy and focused only on her lips. He nodded again. "You want to feel the weight of their soles all over your body. From head to toe." This was a statement of fact, not a question.

With a suddenness that caught him by surprise she put her feet up on the table, with her bare soles just inches away from his face. He gasped and shuddered, as he felt drawn to them like a piece of steel to a magnet. "Yes. They're beautiful. And take a little whiff, pet. You'll love how they smell." When he did as she ordered, his nose was filled with a deliciously pungent scent of her feet. He actually started drooling! "That's so cute! You want to be closer to them. You want to feel them and smell them and be closer to them than you've ever been to any other woman's feet." Again, a statement of fact. "You want it so badly!" His head nodded hard and a soft whine escaped his mouth. "And you'll have it." She began to softly hum a tune he'd never heard before but it totally enraptured him.

It wasn't until after she stopped humming that he felt the changes occurring in his body. He began to shrink, flatten, and compress in a way a body wasn't supposed to. There wasn't any pain but the feeling was unnerving enough to make him shout out. Or, rather, he would have shouted out if he'd still had a mouth. In moments the man who was sitting in front of her was no more, Incredibly, what took his place was a cushioned insole, just perfectly sized for her lovely foot.

She laughed to herself as she picked him up. For some reason he could still hear her and feel her! Somehow he was still able to think! From her bag, she pulled a different pair of shoes -- black patent leather platform wedges. She placed him inside of her right shoe and then put on the shoes. "Now you get exactly what you've wished for all this time, pet!" She stood. "And I've got exactly what I want: you, transformed and under my foot...and at my mercy."

The pressure! He felt her sole compress his now shoe-shaped body with all of her weight! It was unbearable but he couldn't resist her in any way. He was being crushed by the lowest part of her body and he was powerless to stop her. And then she started walking.

If he had bones, he was sure all of them would have been ground to powder with the first step. The second step would have burst all of his internal organs. The third step would have smeared what was left into nothingness. But he didn't have any of those body parts any more. He could somehow still think, and he could somehow feel ever bit of weight she put on him, but he was now a living insole for this beautiful, now giant (to him) woman and he couldn't do a thing about it. She'd trapped him with her eyes, ensorcelled him with her lips, and transformed him with her voice. His life was hers and it felt as if she was crushing it out of him with every step.

By the forth step, though, something changed. Somehow he heard her humming another strange tune and what he felt as painful pressure began to develop an undercurrent of pleasure. Step after step she pressed down on him. Step after step she cause him great pain. Step after step the pain turned to pleasure and, oddly, a form of arousal. He didn't have a cock any more but he was getting more and more turned on with each step.

He heard her laughter. "You like that, don't you, my little insole pet? Check this out!" She slowly ground her shoe against the floor of whatever room she was now in, as though she was putting out a cigarette. The crushing pressure was even greater than before, and his level of arousal grew just that much more! He didn't even question how it was possible but he felt as though he was right on the edge of a tremendous orgasm. And there he stayed for the rest of his time in her shoe...right on the edge. The more turned on he became, the more of her he could feel. He could feel the indentations of her toes, the pressure from the ball of her foot, the relative absence of pressure from her arch, and the crushing of her heel against him.

Not only that but he felt something else: a growing wetness from her foot. She was sweating and she was pressing every drop into him. His mind reeled from the sick sensuality of being made to absorb her foot sweat but he could also, somehow, smell the build up of pheromones in that sweat and became even more aroused.

She started walking again and he suddenly didn't care. He didn't care about the pressure. He didn't care about the pain. All he knew was that he wanted, no, craved being crushed by her beautiful feet. He wanted her to smash him into orgasmic oblivion. He needed her to grind him into submission to the will of her feet. He needed to be flattened by the sensual power of her soles and filled to the brim with her scent.

He heard her throaty laugh again. "Your wish is my command!"

It was then that he knew exactly what manner of woman he and been captured by. They were known for granting wishes but in ways the person doing the wishing would never have imagined. She was a djinn! And all he desired was to be used by her -- to be crushed by her delicious soles, and to be kept on the edge of cumming for as long as he existed.

Please.

The End.