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Poreolight School of Witchcraft and Wizardry



Part 1 (Ste Letto)

Jennifer turned her head to the right to look over her shoulder when Lynsey touched the top of her arm. 'Here you go Jen,' the pretty teenage girl said, handing her friend an ice-cold soda. Jennifer, looking extremely pretty and extremely hot (both literally and figuratively), reached out her slender hand, took the ice cold can and smiled broady. As she turned her head to face forward again she said a simple, chirpy 'Thanks'.

Long legged Lynsey came round the sofa, edged between it and the coffee table and said, 'No probs.' After lining herself up with the centre seat cushion, Lynsey let her weight plomp her down with a bump. Both girls giggled, then fell silent as thet sat drinking sodas on what was one of the hottest days on record. Both were first year students at Poreolight School of Witchcraft & Wizardry.

Jennifer Blaze had just turned 18. Originally from Kansas, she now lived permanently on campus at the Poreolight school. Everyone who met her was struck by her intense beauty, her emerald green eyes and her hair. Her hair really did look like flames. It shimmered, danced and moved in hypnotic waves. It seemed to glow with an inner light, a luminescence that was literally magical. Even dressed as she was today, in a simple pink Barbie T-shirt and a pair of blue cut-off jeans shorts, she looked stunning. Her perfect tan only served to magnify her beauty.

Lynsey Dream was a few months older than her friend. Her raven black hair was cut in a short, elfin bob, that matched her delicately etched face. Tall and slender, one might also say wispy, she had a delicate quality that belied her inner strength. She was like a piece of silk. She had long hands, long fingers, long feet and long toes, known for their dexterity. She was dressed similarly to her friend, lightly to cope with the hot weather. She wore a black bikini top, and a pair of grey/green shorts. Despite the long days of sun, she had alabaster skin.

Jennifer didn't even look down as she lowered her feet onto Rupert Feeble's face. Rupert was a boy who developed a crush on her when she was only 13 years old. Of course he'd been only 11 so she'd seemed very grown up to him. His family had moved to live next door to her family several years ago. When a witch reaches 13, her powers start to mature, just like her body. Jennifer had become fully aware of her powers.

The presence of an awestruck, lovestruck, luststruck boy had gone from being a novelty, to an irritation, to a nuisance to a joke. Rupert seemed to always find a way to be near her, watching her, wanting her. Jennifer slowly started to notice that when Rupert was near her, she felt more energised, more vibrant, more alert and aware. She'd asked her mother Jacklyn Blaze, a witch of long standing, who explained that a lovestruck male could enhance a witche's power and prolong her life. The right worshipper would grant her 200 years of energy, after which another would be needed as the first would be all but burnt out.

Her mother had explained how she had two worshippers at any time. One current, one former. Her current worshipper was Jennifer's father. Her past, a man she'd met long ago who made it clear he wanted to serve. When Jennifer asked where the man was, her mother had stood on one long, toned leg and slipped off her flat sandal from her right foot. There, ingrained into the innersole, was the distorted, flattened, shrunk and deformed shape of a man's face. His entire face filled the insole of her battered sandal. When Jennifer asked about the rest of him, Jacklyn turned over the shoe and showed how the rest of his body, from the neck down, was mapped onto the tread. When she'd turned the shoe back over, the man's eyes had swivelled to look at Jacklyn. Jennifer had seen such adoration in those eyes that she'd found it hard to breathe. The man siled, her mother smiled back, then she reached out to caress the leathery, sweat ingrained insole of her shoe with her finger, before popping the sandal back on her foot.

Poreolight School Part 2

Rupert Feeble, slave to Jennifer Blaze, lay motionless on the wooden floor. He could only lie there, immobile, waiting and watching as the beautiful young girl lowered her dusty footsoles onto his face and chest. Rupert worshipped Jennifer. This wasn't hyperbole, he genuinely worshipped her. She was his Queen, his Goddess. He would do anything for her, be anything for her. Right now he was being a living rug.

Her feet came closer and closer. He could see dust and ingrained dirt on the soles, the little patches of hard skin around the edges of her heels and on the pads of her toes. Her right foot touched down on his face, her left on his upper chest. Her feet were hot.

'Be cool for my feet' Jennifer commanded. Rupert's body temperature dropped by 10 degress. 'A little cooler' she said, smiling sweetly. His body cooled another 5 degress. He shivered inside. 'Ahhhh,' Jennifer sighed, 'that is lovely.' She began to move her feet on his face and chest. She turned her feet left and right, right and left. Then she took to pressing down with her heels, raising the toes, before rolling her feet forward and ending up with heels raised and toes pressing down. She sighed at the cooling sensation on her feet. She twisted her foot soles on the boy's face, then took to scuffing her feet forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards, while sippingon her drink.

Lynsey, meanwhile, was resting one bare sole on Rupert's belly and one on his crotch. Rupert's crotch was covered by a tight fitting pair of black lycra cycling shorts. Beneath those, his penis was inside a spiked sheath that punished any arousal. Lynsey delighted in teasing, tormenting and arousing the helpless boy with her long feet and talented toes. She pressed the toes of her left foot over his all too obvious ballsacs. Frowning in concentration she stroked first the left ball, then the right. She bounced them with her skillful toes. Next she used her right foot to seek out the head of his cock, by following the line of his shaft under his shorts. She edged her toes under his waistband and tickled his cockhead. The helpless boy stiffened, which immediately caused him pain, as his penis pressed into the spiked interior of his restraint.

Lynsey giggled to see Rupert's grimace of discomfort. Jennifer blithely ignored his situation. Both girls sat comfortable and happy, cooling their feet on their wonderfully cool, totally obliging human rug.

'My toes need a little bath' said Jennifer in a singsong way. 'Be a dear would you?' she said to Rupert, dabbling at his lips with her wiggly toes. Rupert's mouth opened and Jennifer slipped her foot inside. Rupert's tongue was wet with saliva. Jennifer waited as he suckled each dusty, slightly sweat tinged toe. She manouvered her foot so he could lick between each delicious toe as well, to get out all the toe jam and bits of dead skin. Then she had him lick under the nails. Rupert worked for half an hour on each foot, nibbling, licking and suckling them clean. Then it was Lynsey's turn.

Lynsey would tease him by pulling her foot almost completely out of his yearning mouth. Then she would ram her foot so far in that the poor boy was choking. She would play with his tonsils with her long toes, and even pull at his tongue. While one foot was being cleaned, she used the other to tousle Rupert's hair, or probe his ear. For a time she simply rested her heel on his upturned forehead.

Finally both girls had had their feet cleaned to their satisfaction. 'Rupert did a very good job on my feet Jen' said Lynsey. 'Yes' said Jennifer, 'It's so nice we found some good use for him.'

Lynsey laughed, 'Are we still on for tennis later?' she asked. 'Oh yes' said Jennifer, smiling broadly, 'I know who'll be on cooling insole duty for that.' Both girls laughed. 'Of course,' said Lynsey, 'We'll need insoles for the other three shoes as well.' Jennifer smiled, and mused for a moment. 'You know there's lots of men who'd give their right arm to be an insole for a gorgeous girl playing tennis, how about we make someone's day.' The girls looked at one another, then laughed loud.

Rupert Feeble, slave to Jennifer Blaze, lay motionless on the wooden floor. He could only lie there, immobile, waiting and watching as the beautiful young girl lowered her dusty footsoles onto his face and chest. Rupert worshipped Jennifer. This wasn't hyperbole, he genuinely worshipped her. She was his Queen, his Goddess. He would do anything for her, be anything for her. Right now he was being a living rug.

Her feet came closer and closer. He could see dust and ingrained dirt on the soles, the little patches of hard skin around the edges of her heels and on the pads of her toes. Her right foot touched down on his face, her left on his upper chest. Her feet were hot.

'Be cool for my feet' Jennifer commanded. Rupert's body temperature dropped by 10 degress. 'A little cooler' she said, smiling sweetly. His body cooled another 5 degress. He shivered inside. 'Ahhhh,' Jennifer sighed, 'that is lovely.' She began to move her feet on his face and chest. She turned her feet left and right, right and left. Then she took to pressing down with her heels, raising the toes, before rolling her feet forward and ending up with heels raised and toes pressing down. She sighed at the cooling sensation on her feet. She twisted her foot soles on the boy's face, then took to scuffing her feet forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards, while sippingon her drink.

Lynsey, meanwhile, was resting one bare sole on Rupert's belly and one on his crotch. Rupert's crotch was covered by a tight fitting pair of black lycra cycling shorts. Beneath those, his penis was inside a spiked sheath that punished any arousal. Lynsey delighted in teasing, tormenting and arousing the helpless boy with her long feet and talented toes. She pressed the toes of her left foot over his all too obvious ballsacs. Frowning in concentration she stroked first the left ball, then the right. She bounced them with her skillful toes. Next she used her right foot to seek out the head of his cock, by following the line of his shaft under his shorts. She edged her toes under his waistband and tickled his cockhead. The helpless boy stiffened, which immediately caused him pain, as his penis pressed into the spiked interior of his restraint.

Lynsey giggled to see Rupert's grimace of discomfort. Jennifer blithely ignored his situation. Both girls sat comfortable and happy, cooling their feet on their wonderfully cool, totally obliging human rug.

'My toes need a little bath' said Jennifer in a singsong way. 'Be a dear would you?' she said to Rupert, dabbling at his lips with her wiggly toes. Rupert's mouth opened and Jennifer slipped her foot inside. Rupert's tongue was wet with saliva. Jennifer waited as he suckled each dusty, slightly sweat tinged toe. She manouvered her foot so he could lick between each delicious toe as well, to get out all the toe jam and bits of dead skin. Then she had him lick under the nails. Rupert worked for half an hour on each foot, nibbling, licking and suckling them clean. Then it was Lynsey's turn.

Lynsey would tease him by pulling her foot almost completely out of his yearning mouth. Then she would ram her foot so far in that the poor boy was choking. She would play with his tonsils with her long toes, and even pull at his tongue. While one foot was being cleaned, she used the other to tousle Rupert's hair, or probe his ear. For a time she simply rested her heel on his upturned forehead.

Finally both girls had had their feet cleaned to their satisfaction. 'Rupert did a very good job on my feet Jen' said Lynsey. 'Yes' said Jennifer, 'It's so nice we found some good use for him.'

Lynsey laughed, 'Are we still on for tennis later?' she asked. 'Oh yes' said Jennifer, smiling broadly, 'I know who'll be on cooling insole duty for that.' Both girls laughed. 'Of course,' said Lynsey, 'We'll need insoles for the other three shoes as well.' Jennifer smiled, and mused for a moment. 'You know there's lots of men who'd give their right arm to be an insole for a gorgeous girl playing tennis, how about we make someone's day.' The girls looked at one another, then laughed loud.

Poreolight School Part 3

Jennifer and Lynsey sat comfy and relaxed on the settee while Rupert's cold body cooled their now clean soles. Rupert was far from being comfy or relaxed. He was cold for starters, they had wished him cold, so cold he was. He couldn't shiver, he couldn't move at all, but he felt like he was freezing. Also, being immobilised felt like being wrapped in tight, tight bandages or blankets. It was a bit like really painful cramp all over his body. Furthermore, being made to lie still, he could still feel pain. Everywhere his body touched the floor hurt. The back of his head hurt, especially with the weight of Jennifer's feet and legs pushing it down. His forehead hurt, where Jennifer's heel rested, with her other leg crossed over. His shoulder blades hurt, from constant pressure onto the floor, his buttocks were numb, as were his thighs, but his heels hurt as well, where the bones trapped skin between it and the hard floor. His cock hurt, from trying to inflate inside its restraint. Lynsey still took a moment every now and then to torture and torment him by ticking his balls with her toes.

'If we're gonna summon some insoles we'll need the Sletto House book of spells for 2nd Year Students,' said Lynsey. Jennifer went to call the book from the shelf but Lynsey stopped her. 'I'll get it,' she said, shifting forward on her seat. She planted her bare feet side by side on Rupert's belly, then pushed herself to a standing position, straightening her knees, lifting herself upright, feeling her feet sink into Rupert's yielding flesh. She smiled as she stood upright, wiggling her toes in the plastic like flesh of Rupert's stomach. Rupert silently screamed. This girl was deliberately compressing his stomach, mushing the organ's beneath her pretty footsoles. She delighted in the pain it caused him. She marched on the spot. Rupert's eyes shed real tears of pain. His midsection felt as if it were on fire. Still the heartless girl smushed and mushed his stomach. 'Be weaker' she commanded. Rupert's flesh became softer, more malleable, less firm. She sank deeper with every step, the resistance barely keeping her above the ground level. 'Weaker,' she whispered, feeling the skin become more elastic, letting her come down to the floor.

Finally she stood, grinning delightedly, separated from the floor only by the width of Rupert's skin. Rupert was in a whole new level of hell. His internal organs were stretched, squished and smushed out of the way. His spine had surrendered. 'Be flat all over' Lynsey commanded. Rupert became stretched out like a carpet, 'Now be a carpet over to the bookshelf.' His body snaked across the floor to the bookshelf. Rupert's mind was reeling, the pain and disorientation were overwhelming. No matter how many times he was transfigured and abused, he never got used to it. Lynsey strolled along her living carpet, seeing her pretty feet leave indentations in the plastic like flesh, indentations which filled out and disappeared moments later. 'I wonder if that hurts' she mused absently. She studied the effect, stepping forward onto her left foot, ballancing for several sesconds, then stepping back. She could see the shape of her heel, the side of her foor, the pad, and the pads of her toes. She laughed.

'I wonder what this will do?' she asked herself, arching her right foot forward, and bringing the sharp nails to bare. She cut his flesh with her painted toenails. The skin peeled back and split. Blood pooled in the opening. She pulled her toes back. The blood seemed to be reabsorbed, and the split healed. 'This just gets better and better' she thought.

Rupert thought quite the opposite. For him it just kept getting worse and worse. Eac new agony taught him new levels of pain. The feeling of Lynsey's toes razoring through his flesh was like a million papercuts, and while his body soon healed, the pain lasted a lot longer. Each step she took on his stretched out body was like a punch, a sickening body blow that reverberated through his whole form.

Lynsey reached the book shelf. She started to work her way along the titles, standing on tiptoe for a better view. Her toes hurt him. Her heels as she came down knocked him sick and dizzy. When she found the book, and held it in her hands she bounced up and down, even jumping in theair a little. 'Got it!' she announced delightedly. Then she ran back to join Jennifer on the couch.

Poreolight School Part 4

Lynsey positioned herself with her back to the couch, her luscious bottom hovering over the centre cushion, then sat heavily, feeling the springs creak and groan, feeling the cushion give under her bum. She wiggled her hips to settle herself and grinned. The cushion was not just a cushion. The cushion was her cousin Malcolm. Malcolm, a 15 yr old brat, was being punished for pinching her bum at a party. Lynsey had told him repeatedly to 'Cut it out!', but Malcolm had just kept giving her an inane and infuriating grin, so finally she'd decided to take matters into her own hands.

She'd slyly invited the boy to step outside, then magically transferred his body onto the dusty, gritty sole of her left sandal. She'd quickly persormed a replicator spell, which created a copy or facsimile of Malcolm which would carry on living his life until such time as she decided to put him back. That way nobody would ever know he was missing. With Malcolm imprisoned under her pretty foot, Lynsey had proceeded to rejoin the party, dancing the night away with every boy in the room, including the copy of Malcolm she'd just made.

Under this girl's foot for hours, serving as the tread beneath her painted toed, Malcolm had suffered. All he could see was the ground, travelling away as her foot came up, then hurtling toward him as her shoe came down, then darkness when he was pressed to the floor. Each impact felt like he was being crushed flat. It felt a bit like standing in the road and having two lorries hit you; one from infront and one from behind. He'd felt agony in his entire body. Sometimes, with her foot down, she'd twisted and turned; after all she was dancing, and that had made him feel like he was being ripped apart.

That was two months ago, and since that time Malcolm had served as her panties, her panty shield, her computer seat, her toilet, the saddle on her bike, the cushion she sat on, her skirt, the insole and the undersole of every boot or shoe she had worn. Today he was currently serving as her cushion. If you could look very carefully and closely at the cushion, you would see his stretched and distorted face mapped onto its upper surface.

Malcolm was in a very intimate hell. Lynsey's weight on his cushion body was akin to having 10 people sit on you while you lie on the floor. He felt crushed and squashed flat. He felt like his ribcage would collapse, like he couldn't breathe, and like his internal organs were being mused into jelly. He felt he might burst. Her buttocks were hot and sweaty, and the sweat ran into his eyes, nose and mouth. Her rear smelt as well. He could smell her sex, and traces of her anus. She took great delight in farting into his cushion body, where it would get trapped and would linger for hours and hours. Leaning to the side slightly, Lynsey squeezed one out before settling back into her upright position.

Malcolm felt like he would be sick. The smell was foul, putrid and sickening, inescapable. He felt totally degraded and humiliated. If his transformed body could have, he would have wept.

Lynsey wiggled her hips again, making her bottom imprint even more firmly onto Malcolm's face, and handed Jennifer the book. Jennifer took it with a smile, looked down at Rupert and said 'Face cushion'. Rupert transformed into what looked like an inflated cushion one foot by four foot, the entire upper surface of which showed his face and body, stretched to fit the entire length and width. Jennifer planted her feet on his face, while Lynsey put one foot on his groin, the other on his legs.

Jennifer flipped through the book until she found the spell she wanted. The spell would find as many men as they wished who had fantasised about being an innersole for a beautiful girl. The spell would read the minds and dreams of these men, and carry them, in their sleep, to Jennifer for placement. To the men it would simply be a delicious dream. She mouthed a simple incantation then waited. Before long a glowing star of energy appeared over the page of the book, Jennifer smiled and wafted the star toward her left training shoe. Rupert would go in the right. Another star appeared, so she wafted this toward Lynsey's left trainer, where it impacted the innersole then diappeared. Finally a third appeared, and this found a home in Lynsey's right shoe.

Jennifer closed the book, ending the spell. She smiled down at Rupert, twirled her wrist, pointed at her right trainer and watched as he was transferred into her insole. Of the four who now found themselves serving as insoles, only Rupert knew the truth of what was going on. The other three thought they were each having some kind of delicious dream. Oliver, David and Mike all found themselves suddenly paralysed. Each was aware of a hard plasticcy surface below them, and some kind of opening overhead. Each was aware of the unmistakable smell of a girl's footsweat. Each smiled and relaxed, deciding that they were having a rather erotic dream. Each looked about, down ino the darkness and up at the light. Each saw lace holes and arcing walls. Then they heard voices, and saw giant girls looming overhead. Each saw giant faces, gorgeous faces, and hands, giant hands with perfect manicures. Those hands grasped their new homes and lofted them into the air.

The girls had changed into white minidresses for the game, and now were ready to put on their shoes. Lynsey gathered her well worn Pumas, while Jennifer gathered her well used Nikes. Both girls were going barefoot. 'Be cooling' each told her human insoles. Immediately them men felt their body temperatures drop. Each was now a cooling gel insole for a young girl who was about to play tennis.

The girls sat and slipped their feet into their inhabited shoes. Each man saw pretty toes, from underneath, filling the opening in the shoe, before passing overhead. Each saw, in the dim light, a soft pink sole, followed by a menacing heel. Each silently screamed as that heel came down, to impact their helpless face. The shock of that impact, and the pressure on their entire body that followed, took all the newbies by surprise. Each foot was firmly stamped home and pressed down, to imbed itself in the cooling insole. Each shoe was tightly laced, and double knotted to avoid slipping. Now the men felt constant pressure, and rising heat. In the pitch black, their other senses heightened.

The pressure seemed overwhelming, crushing and breathtaking, threatening to break bones if they still had bones. They heard squeaking and creaking, some of which was the shoes expanding to hold the feet within, part of which was their own insole bodies giving way to the giant feet of their users. The smell was high and getting higher, a pungent mixture of old and fresh sweat, despite their cooling presence.

The girls trotted outside. Each chose a racquet from a stand, and each picked up a few balls. They were going to warm up first. Lynsey danced on her toes, bouncing up and down, before running on the spot on the hard packed clay. In a sudden spell of inspiration she transferred Malcolm's consciousness onto the tread of her right shoe. Now every step of that shoe crushed him and covered him in hot red dust.

Jennifer ran left to right across the court, letting her foot slam down hard. The men inside her shoes felt like they were being punched in the stomach and face simultaneously. They felt hot, sick, pained and dizzy. The only respite they got was when her foot lifted, but really that was only temporary, and it was only a relief from the crushing pressure, and anyway, they knew the pressure would soon be back.

Time became unreal, elastic and strange. The girls played for around 50 mins, but to the men in their shoes it felt like hours. Their world became focussed on the sound of the girls' feet slamming into the dirt, grunts of exertion, cries of delight and the squeaks and creaks of their insole body's moving inside the shoes. This plus the smell, the pain of repeated impacts, where they were flattened out under hot feet, and the burning sweat that ran down onto their helpless forms.

Finally the girls finished playing. They trotted back into the house and got themselves cool glasses of fruit juice which they sipped while standing in the kitchen area of their flat.

Lynsey spoke to Malcolm 'Be a worm Malcom'. She angled her foot up and watched as his body peeled off her shoe. His long muddy brown body lay on the tiled floor. 'Bye bye Malcom' she said, then she squished him, stamping on him until his body was paste. She giggled. 'Heal Malcolm' she said, and his body restored itself. She squished him again. She repeated this process 20 times before she got bored and put himback on her sole.

The girls returned to the couch. 'Footstool Malcolm' Lynsey ordered. Malcolm became a footstool. The girls propped the feet up on his agonised, contorted form. They sat with their hot feet in their cooling trainers for hours until they decided to free the men inside. All the men, except Rupert where returned to their beds. 'That was fun,' said Jennifer, 'I wonder what we should do next!'

Poreolight school Part 5

After only a moment's pause, both girls called out "Shopping". They giggled in excitement. They loved the mall. Their were so many horny men there, oggling their faces, boobs, bums, legs or feet. The girls could sense an oggler a mile away. Some would get a treat they'd only dreamed of, others a punishment they never expected.

The girls stripped off their tennis things and headed for the shower. Rupert became a non-slip bath mat, Malcolm a bar of soap. The girls turned on the radio and hopped into the shower, their bare feet sinking deep into Rupert's rubberised body. No matter what they changed him into, he always experienced it with reference to his original physical form. He could see up Jennifer's long legs to her sex, mocking him up above. He sould see her belly, her breasts, her arms and her beautiful face.

Some of the time he could see nothing. That was when she stood over or on his eyes. He didn't seem able to blink, so she was able to casually dig her toes in his eyes, creating agonising shock waves of pain that threatened to split his skull. She seemed to particularly like digging her big toe nails into his eyes and twisting them left and right, boring into his defenseless eyes, drilling into them with merciless playful cruelty. She hummed softly, or sang while indulging in this delightful, for her, torture of the helpless male.

When she wasn't drilling into his eyes with her toes, she would grind her heels into the sockets. This also caused unbelievable pain, a bit like having them burned. The pain burned and throbbed in his head.

Things didn't get much better when she wasn't stood on his eyes. Jennifer was showering, getting ready to go out. That meant she washed her hair first, then her body. She let her long hair get wet, then applied shampoo. She used plenty of shampoo, because she had such long hair, and she had been sweating. The shampoo created lots of suds, that gravity caused to run down the small of her back, and the front of her body; to her legs, and down onto her bathmat. That meant big suds of soapy shampoo residue splashed into Rupert's helplessly open and immobile eyes. The shampoo burned in a way he had never experienced before. When Jennifer saw that an especially large and frothy ball of suds had missed his eyes, she helpfully guided it into them with the side of her foot.

While shifting casually from foot to foot, sometimes pressing her heels down, sometimes going up on tiptoe, Jennifer rinsed her hair, then shampooed it again. She even danced on her living, suffering bathmat sometimes, feeling totally relaxed and happy. Then she rinsed again, before applying conditioner. All this ran down her shapely young body, to her ankles, to her pretty painted toes, then into Rupert's eyes. That which didn't find his eyes, found either his nose or his mouth. The taste was revolting, and he found himself feeling nauseous.

Malcolm, meanwhile, was more than a little happy with his lot. He was being rubbed, slowly and carefully, over every inch of Lynsey's luscious body. The girls passed the shower head freely from one to another whenever it was needed, or popped it into its bracket on the wall when not. She had wet herself all over, and held Malcolm under the running water to get his soapy form going. (For Malcolm this felt a lot like he was leaking precum.) This was especially nice as she rubbed her moist palm over him. Then she rubbed him up and down her arms, before popping him in the soap tray. She lathered her arms, then retrieved the lucky boy. She soaped her face, her neck, her breasts and her belly. All the time he felt her soft warm breasts against him made him almost swoon. She popped him back in the holder again as she lathered, then rinsed her face, chest and belly. Next she soaped her back, her buttocks and her pussy.

For Malcolm this was the best thing possible. He found Lynsey's buttocks incredibly appealing. It felt as if he were being allowed to both lick them and cum on them. He was in heaven. She made sure to rub him deep into the cleft between her fruity butt cheeks. Malcolm was singing inside. When she pulled him away from her perfect arse he was almost crying. She handed him to Jennifer, and his mood lifted. Now he got to caress her perfect face, her perky breasts and her perfectly flat stomach.

Soon he was being passed from girl to girl. He caressed Lynsey's pouting pussy lips, feeling them, and the tangle of dark hair that surrounded them. He went between her thighs, before going to Jennifer and serving her in the same way. He was rubbed over Lynsey's legs, and Jennifer's, front and back, then down to their feet, where he caressed both the top and the sole of each yummy foot. Then he went in the tray. Lynsey swapped places with Jennifer to was her hair.

Rupert still lay underfoot, suffering agonies as the girls played. All the time Lynsey had been behind Jennifer, her feet had pummelled his stomach and groin, knocking him sick. Jennifer was ready to step out. First she turned Malcolm into a fluffy rug. She lifted one slightly soapy, drippy foot and leg out of the shower, then let her weight come down. Her sole banged into Malcolm's fluffy form, knocking him sick. Her weight grew and grew as she put all her weight on that foot. Soon the other followed. It felt to Malcolm as if she were squashing his stomach flat. He felt breathless, unable to get air into his lungs. Jennifer shuffled about gaily, towelling her hair, then drying her perfect body. She carefully dried each foot, working her towel between each toe. This put all her crushing weight on the foot that was supporting her, first the left, then the right. Malcolm suffered fresh agonies.

Finally she was dry, but no sooner was she gone from him, than Lynsey took her place. Malcolm suffered agonies for a further 20 minutes. Lynsey deliberately moved about a lot, and drove her toes or heel down hard. Finally Lynsey was dry too and the two males were given a short respite as the girls dressed.

Poreolight School part 6

Jennifer put on a pink, long sleeved top, tight white jeans, cut off at the bottom to show about two inches above the ankle, a spangly pink belt, and flat sandals with thin straps that crisscrosed her pretty feet. Rupert became the insole of her right shoe, feeling the length of his naked body pressing firmly up and into the soft, cool and slightly clammy sole of her foot. He was looking up through the gap between her toes, inhaling her delicate scent. The ball of her foot hammered his chest with every step, forcing the air from him in a painful and debilitating way. He felt as if his ribs were being pummelled to breaking point. The heel crushed and crunched his feet and lower legs.

Lynsey put on a sleeveless, light blue top with thin shoulder straps and a star shape picked out in rhinestones, a denim miniskirt, and black leather, knee high, boots. Malcolm found himself serving as the tread of Lynsey's right boot. His perspective was face down. Every step brought fresh pain and fresh terror. As her foot hit the floor, heel first, toes second he went through a range of unpleasant experiences. First he was jolted to a sickening halt, his momentum rapidly stopped, leaving him feeling faint, dizzy and nauseous. Then he was reminded that her toe was about to come down. As Lynsey's centre of balance shifted, and she moved forward, he was suddenly accelarated again. The floor, which he had for an instant seen with total clarity, rushed toward him. Even before he could scream, Malcolm felt himself slammed into the ground beneath Lynsey's boot. He would scream, in silent agony as her foot compressed him into the floor. This was far worse as the girls crossed the gravel path to the drive. Under her booted foot, Malcom was smashed into the sharp gravel. He felt as if he were being cut by thousands of glass shards. Her booted foot would impact, slip, twist, then settle. Malcolm felt torn, twisted and ripped as she walked. Some of the gravel remained embedded in the tread, and Malcolm felt as if it were piercing his very body.

The girls were laughing and chatting as they crossed the drive, oblivious to the pain and distress of the helpless males beneath their feet. Lynsey was driving, so Jennifer sat in the passenger seat. Before she sat, she turned Rupert into her chair. To him it felt as if he were upside down. His face was the seat, his torso and thighs the rear of the chair, with his arms up along side, his legs bent sharply at the knees, with his lower legs and feet pointing down toward the floor of the car. Jennifer looked down into his face and smiled, then turned about to present her tightly sheathed bottom, hovering only inches overhead. Rupert admired the backs of her thighs, taut, long and muscular, and felt himself growing helplessly aroused. His eyes took in the rounded perfection of Jennifer's arse cheeks. They were full, fruity and magnificent. He could see her panty line beneath the denim.

It seemed like slow motion to him as she bent her knees and sat in her seat. Those perfect cheeks loomed larger and closer, blotting out all the light as they surged toward his helpless face. His world went dark, and hot and humid. She was crushing his face. She wriggled to get comfy, leaning back against his legs. His contorted body hurt; paralysed and twisted for her pleasure, his nerves all sent complaints in the form of pain to his overtaxed brain. He was dimly aware of Jennifer fastening her safety belt. Somehow this last act just magnified his feelings of despair and helpess degradation. He felt the girl twist in her seat, raising one butt cheek slightly, then he heard the unmistakable rasp of her passing wind, before she slammed her butt back down again, ensuring that he breathed in the whole unpleasant emission. He couldn't know that she had wished herself to fart, using a childhood spell that she had learnt years ago. He felt hot, sick, pained and nauseous.

Lynsey meanwhile was busy driving them to the mall. Under her booted toes Malcolm suffered, pressed into the ridged pedal of their automatic car. He was pushed against the accelerator with a steady, headache inducing pressure. Only occassioanlly did he get a moment's respite, but that was only for Lynsey to move her foot to the brake, which she applied with firm pressure. The fact that he knew she was completely oblivious to his suffering only made it worse.

After three quarters of an hour drive, the girls arrived at the Mall. Jennifer immediately put Rupert back on her insole. Lynsey left Malcolm on her boot sole, suffering with every step. The girls had a good 6 hours before the Mall closed and they were determined to make the most of it. Each could read minds if they wished, and they could monitor for certain thoughts that inspired them to action.

Jennifer set off in one direction, Lynsey the other.

Poreolight School Part 7

Jennifer strolled happily along the tiled concourse. The young beauty attracted many admiring glances. She let her mind wander, invading the thoughts of both men and women. She caught a thought from a young, somewhat nervous and awkward young man who said to himself "Oh my God, look at her, she's awesome! I love her face, her eyes, her hips, that awesome bum, her legs and those incredible little feet. Jeez, I love those feet. Those sandals are incredibly horny." Jennifer paused in mid stride, with her back to the young man, pretending to look in a shop window. She continued to eavesdrop on his thoughts. "Fuck me she's gorgeous. (Groan!!!) I so want to be her sandals. Or her knickers. Or her jeans, but especially her sandals." Jennifer smiled. The young boy was sweet, and so earnest.

She quickly plucked his consciousness from his body, leaving it on automatic pilot. His body would take care of itself for a few hours while she indulged his mind. She spoke to his mind "Don't be afraid. I heard your thoughts, and now I'm going to grant your wish. You will be my sandal on my pretty left foot for the next few hours. That is, if you still like the idea." Jennifer's mind was flooded with a loud, repeated and insisted yes. She laughed at the boys gushing intensity. "Ok - Ok" she told him, "No need to shout!" She chided him playfully. "Are you ready then?" she asked, teasingly. Again there was a loud and clear yes. Jennifer shook her head in amusement, then imbued her sandal with the essence of the boy.

Immediately, Darren, for that was his name, found himself holding, supporting, tasting, smelling and generally worshipping Jennifer's lovely little foot. His arms were now the strap that encircled her ankle, his legs the straps that crossed the top of her foot, one at the toes, one part way up. His back was the tread of her shoe, his groin, chest and face the insole. He felt his groin compressed under her heel, in a pleasant rather than a painful way, as if they were sat opposite one another and she were lightly brushing his balls with a bare heel. Her instep was pressed to his belly. The ball of her foot was on his chest, again not in a painful way. It felt as if she were lightly pressing one foot on his chest as he lay on the floor. Her toes surrounded and covered his face. Each pad was cool, with a little roughened skin. There was a light sheen of moisture, and a faint but wonderfully heady and arousing aroma of girl foot. Darren was in heaven. Each step was a caress. He felt brushed all over by her foot, the foot he was holding, tasting and adoring. He could taste the sole of her foot wherever it touched his skin. It was like lying with his tongue pressed flat to her sole, without moving. Darren had the first of many orgasms that day. As he did, Jennifer felt a rush of power. The mental energy released by Darren's sexual release fed her, making her feel invigorated and powerful. She giggled, deliberately scrunching her toes on her happy captive's face.

After a few seconds she strolled on. The happy girl almost seemed to float. Darren, under her foot and wrapped around it, could hardly believe this ultimate fantasy. Rupert, on the other hand, suffered under the full weight of Jennifer's punishing foot. Pinned between her sole and her insole he took the full impact of her weight with every step. He felt hammered and crushed over and over again. He couldn't die, and he couldn't faint, so all he could do was suffer. He felt his body take punishment, but then Jennifer would heal him again. The sweat from her foot trickled into his eyes, where it burned, and down his throat where the acrid taste threatened to make him sick. Her toes bumped and banged his face, occasionally pressing over nose and mouth to temporarily suffocate him. Her heel crushed his groin, sending seismic waves of pulsing, nauseating, overwhelming pain through his tiny form.

Suddenly Jennifer became aware of a girl feeling very upset, and a man bullying her. She spied a young couple. She was 22, tall, slightly heavy but in a way that suited her. She had long, curly light brown hair, a beautiful face and full lips. She wore a tight, grey, woollen, long sleeved top that hugged her fulsome breasts, a short, black cotton, A-line miniskirt, black opaque tights and black leather,high heeled, mules with square toes and a rectangular heel two inches wide, a quarter of an inch thick and three inches long. He was smaller, thinner and ugly looking. His hair was black, wild and unkempt. He wore a leather jacket, faded jeans and trainers.

Jennifer spied on their minds and their conversation and quickly saw the man was a domineering bully. She made both carry on walking as if nothing was happening then spoke to their minds. "Jason," she told the man, "you are a bully and an arsehole. I am going to stop that. You are going to learn what it is like to be downtrodden. You will be the heel or any other part of Alison's shoe she wishes whenever she wishes it." The man was stunned. "Alison," Jennifer began, "all you have to do is think the words "Jason - be the heel of my shoe" and he will become just that. When you choose to release him, just think "I release you". I will put a binding spell on you both so he can never attack you again." With that she withdrew from their minds. Seconds later she was aware of the change as Jason became the heel of his wife's shoe.

To Jason the experience was almost enough to drive him mad. First he had some weird voice in his head, then his body changed completely. His legs became ramrod stiff, impossible to flex or move. His spine, chest and arms felt the same way. They were painfully stiff, paralysed. He felt his neck was bent sharply backward, under a crushing weight on his face that threatened to snap his spine. The burning agony from his neck was the worst pain he had ever known. It came and went in pulsing waves, ranging from burning agony to intolerable overload. The closest pain he had ever known was one time, early in their relationship when Alison had punched him in the balls until he passed out. His face wouldn't move either. Infact it seemed to be glued to something cold, hard and plastic. (Of course that's exactly how it was, his face being the top of her heel, glued to the sole.)

When she took a step he momentarily blacked out, despite Jennifer's magic. The pain was so immense his mind couldn't cope. First his heels jarred against the floor, sending pain shooting up the backs of his legs, to his spine, to his distorted and distended neck. Then he felt his spine compressing, sending electric shock like pain throughout every inch of his form. Next he felt a tearing, ripping pain in his face as her foot came forward, threatening to tear his skin from his skull and his head away from the shoe. This was impossible though as he was connected by glue and screws and could not tear away. What he could do was reach the maximum intensity of physical pain humanly possible over and over again.

As Alison walked away, Jennifer spoke to her one last time, "He's in agony already. If you want to hear his thoughts just focus your mind on your right heel and you'll hear him." Alison tried this as she walked away and nearly fell over with the intensity of Jason's suffering. She puled her mind back and thought to herself, "Good!" With a grin unlike any she had worn for many years, Alison set off to have a nice long walk and a relaxing time.

Poreolight school part 8

Lynsey smiled wickedly to herself, looking forward to getting up to mischief at some poor male's expense. She was well aware of the admiring looks and thoughts she was receiving. Some of the images that were being created in response to her presence made her laugh or gasp in amazement. She saw herself in a variety of situations, some dominant, some not so. One man was having quite nasty thoughts about her and a whole bunch of women. Lynsey made him want to go to the toilet. She followed him there with her mind. Once he was in a cubicle, out of sight, she snatched him, body and soul, out of there. After a moments pause, she turned him into her panty shield. The man found himself suddenly in darkness, not knowing he was now stuck firmly into the crotch of this beautiful girl's little white cotton panties. She wanted him to know and understand exactly what was happening to him so she spoke to him very slowly and carefully.

"Bet you're feeling a bit confused, ehhh nasty man?" The fellow was too stunned and shocked to reply. "The silent type eh?" she mocked. "Well, just so you know, I didn't like the way you were thinking about me," she replayed some of his thoughts back to him,. "I didn't like that at all." The man looked around him, seeing very little in the gloom. He tried to move but felt paralysed. He inhaled and got the strongest smell of a woman's sex he'd ever had. His head swam. He sniffed again, inhaling for all he was worth. He became aware of the sharp hairs of her crotch rubbing against his entire body, head to toe. Slowly, he started to catch on to his situation.

"I've decided to teach you a lesson." Lynsey giggled. "Right now your serving as my panty shield. I may come up with other uses for you later on." She carried on walking, monitoring the man's thoughts occasionally, but largely oblivious to his distress. The man grew uncomfortable. Her hairs irritated him. Her scent became overpowering. It seemed to fill him and surround him. Moisture, a mix of her sweat and her mild arousal, ran onto his body. It burned his eyes, his nose and his mouth. It made him feel sick. He realised that she needed a pee as traces of sour urine began to seep down, running into his nose and mouth. She was walking more quickly now, and he guessed she was heading for the toilet. His body was twisted sharply left and right, and her thighs bumped and bashed him.

Lynsey found her way to the toilet and smiled. She took the man's essence from her panty shield and put it into the toilet. His face became the seat. His body the porcelain bowl and base. His tongue became the interior of the bowl. The man felt immediately sick. Hideous tastes and odours suffused his senses. He was looking up at Lynsey's magnificent rear, up under her denim miniskirt. He saw that skirt raise, revealing the backs of her thighs and her perfect little butt cheeks. He saw the panties he had been inside. He saw Lynsey grasp the waistband of her underwear, saw her panties being lowered. He saw her bared cheeks, and ached to touch them, then shuddered as he realised they would soon be touching him. He watched, helpless, paralysed, shocked; as those cheeks came down. Lower and lower they came, toward his helpless face. Lynsey's bared arse cheeks loomed larger and larger, blocking out all the light, bringing darkness, then warm, cushiony, softness. They were pressed firmly onto the seat, his face, and he surrendered to their dominance.

Lynsey sat casually, comfortably on the loo seat as she had done millions of times before. She laughed to think of the nasty man, as she called him, suffering in this degrading and ultimately humiliating way. She felt pressure in her bladder. She sighed as she let go her stream, which tinkled into the water with playful sounds. That the nasty man was taking it, tasting it, drinking it helplessly, gave her mild amusement and pleasure. When she was done she wiped herself, then dropped that paper in as well. She stood and raised her panties, then dropped her skirt. She reached out her little hand and depressed the flush, then smiled at the prisoner before her. "What shall I do with you?" she said into his mind, "take you with me or leave you here?" She received a powerful plea for going with her. "You want to go with me?" she asked, teasingly, and again she received a powerful yes, "very well then, though I may not keep you forever." She popped him back into her panty shield.

She stepped out of the toilets and headed for the shoe shops. A young girl caught her eye. Smiling she watched as Erin, a college girl, tried on a variety of training shoes. The shoes Erin had come to the mall in looked battered and well worn. Lynsey smiled. Erin looked to be no more than 19 years of age. She had straight, dirty blonde hair, a slightly chubby face and figure, a tight white blouse, a short tartan miniskirt, with pleats, white kneesocks and short but slightly broad feet. She looked like she would wear any pair of shoes until they fell apart.

Lynsey knew what she was going to do. She used a spell to put nasty man into Erin's shoes. Whatever shoes Erin wore, he would be them. His back, and the back of his legs, would be the tread. His face and chest and groin would be the insole. The rest of him would be the uppers, wrapping around her foot, clinging to it in a desperate, unbreakable embrace. When Erin wore no shoes, he would be the last pair she had worn, until such time as she put any pair on. Lynsey grinned. This would be the man's life. He would never go back to normal. He would never be a man again. His lifeforce would burn out in 20 years maximum. He would serve all that time as a shoe on a young girl's foot. A girl who didn't even know he was there. A girl who ran her shoes into the ground and battered them into submission. A big girl. A heavy girl. A girl with hot feet, who would wear the same socks for days, even sleep in them, and only washed her feet on special occasions. Nasty man was in for a high old time.

Lynsey laughed into the man's mind as she detailed his fate. His screams were sweet music to her ears. Lynsey watched as Erin chose an inexpensive pair of trainers exactly like the one's she had worn to the shop. She watched as the girl squeezed her big foot into her straining shoe, before tightly tying the laces. She heard the man protest. The girl's foot was gonna tear him apart. He felt like he was going to burst from the inside. Her foot was hot, like an oven, and moist, clammy with sweat. Her socks were hard and rough on the underneath, scratching and ripping at his delicate innards. His muscles, unable to flex, ached and complained. Her heel crunched and crushed his cock and balls, sending sickening pain through him. The ball of her foot threatened to break his ribs. Her toes invaded his eyes, his nose and mouth, banging and brusing them rudely. He tasted lint, sweat and unknowable things. He was in hell. Time has a way of slowing down under such circumstances. Lynsey knew that while twenty years passed for the girl, it would feel more like a hundred to her shoe slave. She giggled as she told him this, and smiled to hear him scream again. Lynsey put an endurance spell on the trainers Erin had purchased, that way they would last longer, taking more punishment and absorbing more dirt and sweat. That done, she withdrew her mind, and left the man to his torturous fate.

Poreolight school part 9

Lynsey and Jennifer had another purpose in going to the Mall. In a couple of days time they would be attending the end of year celebrations at Poreolight School. Therefore both girls wanted new dresses, new shoes and jewellery. The next few hours were spent on happy shopping. Laden with bags, the girls returned home. Lynsey drove, with Malcolm shrunken to only a few inches tall, magically glued to the accelerator pedal. The little man protested bitterly as Lynsey's deeply treaded boot sole came down onto his helpless form, squishing him as she drove. Her sole was dusty and dirty, pitted, spotted here and there with bits of chewing gum and other unsavoury souvenirs of her travels. There were several little stones and bits of broken glass in the tread also, and Malcolm felt the edge of a sharp stone pressing into his thigh painfully.

Jennifer shrunk Malcolmn down to only a foot in height, paralysed him, and lay him face up on her seat. Then without any fanfare, she plomped her white denim clad bottom onto him, and wiggled her hips to get comfortable. The poor man was sqaushed flat, struggling to breathe, inhaling the sweet smell of her arse, getting hotter and hotter with every second. The click of her seatbelt only emphasised his helplessness.

The two happy girls chatted and laughed and made plans as they drove. They forgot all about the males they were casually hurting and abusing.

Back in their flat, Lynsey and Jennifer decided to try on the costumes they had bought. Lynsey had bought a classic little black dress, which she was planning to wear with sheer black stockings and black high heeled strappy sandals. Jennifer had gone for a figure hugging spangly red dress with thin shoulder straps and a hem that started at mid-thigh on her right side and ran down just below the knee on the left. She planned to go barefoot in red strappy high heeled sandals.

Both girls showered and changed. They put Malcolm and Rupert on the floor in the living room, between the couch and the television. Each man was full sized. They were naked and paralysed. The two girls came into the room looking stunning. "You know Lynsey", Jennifer began, "these parties always involve a lot of stepping on men in different forms and different ways." Lynsey grinned at her friends playful remark, "Hey, you're right," she said, playing along, "maybe we should practise on somebody? How about, these two losers right here?"

The two girls were now stood just to Malcolm's right. He lay at right angles to them, with his head to their left. Parallel with Malcolm, further ahead, lay Rupert. Lynsey raised her left foot, clad in a black sandal, positioned the shiny sole over Malcolm's face, then pressed it down. She let her pretty foot press on the boy's immobile forehead. Malcolm gazed upward, filled with a little fear, but also much excitement. Both girls appealed to him sexually and he was at a great angle to admire their legs and bodies.

Lynsey looked down at Malcolm, lying there waiting, then transferred more weight onto the foot on his forehead as she raised the other and stepped on his chest. With only the slightest wobble she found herself standing firmly. The sharp heel of her right shoe dug into the loose skin of his chest. Malcolm felt a dull pain in his forehead, as well as in the back of his skull where it pressed against the floor. He also felt a sharp stinging pain in his chest where the metal tip of her heel was imbedding itself, tearing the skin slightly.

Jennifer clapped with delight to see her friend dominating the helpless Malcolm this way. Moving round to Rupert, she swiftly stepped up. First her right foot, then her left, found Rupert's exposed belly. Unable to resist her, Rupert's belly became flattened into a deeply convex shape. His internal organs protested at having the weight of a teenage girl compressing them under high heeld sandals. Rupert's face creased with pain. Jennifer laughed to see his discomfort and began bouncing on her toes. Rupert felt sick and slightly faint. Jennifer sensed this and put a spell on him to stop him passing out. She balanced carefully, and rocked back on her heels slightly, the twin points making deep inroads into the already straining flesh of his midriff. Rupert wanted to scream. The pain was burning him. Sharp lines of pain where shooting across his stomach.

Lynsey, meanwhile, had transferred both feet to Malcolm's head. She faced away from his body, with her heels on his chin and the soles on his eyes and forehead. With a little shimmy and swivel, she began tapping his teeth through his lips. Malcolm was in agony. The pain in his head made him think his skull might crack. The tap tap tap of Lynsey's heel tip on his teeth felt like a pulsing toothache. Like Rupert, he wanted to scream. Like Rupert he felt he might pass out. Lynsey put a consciousness spell on him to prevent that. Suddenly, she stepped off. Malcolm felt huge relief. Moments later, Lynsey leapt in the air and came down hard on Malcolm's chest. His ribcage groaned and bent sharply inward. All the air whooshed from his lungs. Lynsey laughed to see his face. She squatted slightly, paused, then sprang into the air again. Again her feet came down hard, but this time into his stomach. Malcolm feared he would be sick, but Lynsey decided to spare herself the mess and stopped him. Up she jumped, then came down, over and over again.

While Lynsey was torturing Malcolm under her feet, Jennifer took to slowly walking up and down Rupert's body. She stepped on his nose, pulping it under the sole of her right shoe. Rupert felt his nose explode, felt an explosion of pain, but was unable to do anything about it. He could only watch as Jennifer swivelled on the foot that pulped his nose, taking out the last of the cartilage, before she stepped on his arm, then his belly, then his thigh, then his calf, where she swivelled again, before walking up the other side of his body and stepped on his face again. In an act of particular cruelty, Jennifer mended his nose just before she reached it again, so that Malcolm could experience her mushing it over and over again.

It was a long night for the two boys, but it was nothing compared to the events at the end of term party!!!

Poreolight School Part 10

It was the night of the witches end of year party at Poreolight School. Jennifer and Lynsey both looked stunning in their new outfits. They stood outside the castle that now served as Poreolight School and looked up at the lights shining from windows on every floor. The sounds of music and laughter drifted down to them. Around them, groups of young girls were arriving, gathering together, then making their way up the long staircase.

The giggling girls made their way up the stairs in groups of two or three. It seemed almost all of the girls were wearing boots or shoes with high heels, although every now and then Jennifer and Lynsey spotted some in flat soles. The staircase groaned under the weight of the girls. Well, strictly speaking it wasn't the staircase that groaned but the individual steps. As usual, each step on the staircase was a rigidly paralysed, slightly stretched and flattened male who had either volunteered, by having fantasies about serving in such a way, or been chosen because they deserved punishment. The face and shape of each manstep was clearly defined. The first two steps were Malcolm and Rupert.

The two males lay paralysed and helpless as girl after girl after girl strode casually toward them. The pair could do nothing but anticipate as they saw each girl come closer and closer before pressing a sexily clad foot onto head, chest, belly, groin or legs; and stepping up. Rupert, Malcolm and every other step on the living staircase saw and felt every single girl as they each put all their weight on one foot, on them, and raised themselves up.

Spiked heels dug into flesh, tearing it, making the recipient scream in silent agony. Even flat soled boots caused great pain, thumping into tenderised stomachs, chests, faces, groins, thighs or shins. The girls were excited and playful. Some would deliberately target every face on the staircase, jabbing needle sharp heeltips into jaws, noses, eyes or foreheads. Others targeted every groin, jabbing cock or balls with heels, or pressing them flat under soles, generating waves of unbearable nausea.. Other girls took no interest at all in the living steps and simply strolled or ran up them as the mood took them.

Lynsey and Jennifer studied the males for a while, seeing how pockmarked and scarred they were under the onslaught of so many shoes and so many spiked heel tips. Much as a wooden floor will show indents from high heels, the paralysed bodies of Malcolm, Rupert and all the living steps bore the same evidence. "It's a good job the spell gives them some protection," thought Jennifer, "it looks like several heels have gone straight into their eyes." She could see the skin all around the boys eye sockets was badly marked, and their ever open eyes showed deep scratches. "I want these steps to see what's coming, that way they'll be more afraid. I'll make their eyeballs undamageable. Of course, a heel in the eye will still hurt!" She thought, chuckling softly at that last idea. She made a quick incantation then moved up the stairs, following Lynsey who was several stairs ahead.

Lynsey paused part way up and turned to look for her friend. "Hurry up," she chided, oblivious to the fact that her left heel tip was at that very moment pressing agonisingly into a young man's open eye. The young man, one Darren Rogers, was there because he had fantasised about being trampled by beautiful girls ever since he was a young boy. The girl above him, who he could see clearly despite the abuse of his eye, was the perfect representation of all his fantasies. She was incredibly beautiful, tall, slender and just slightly arrogant. Her clothes also matched every fantasy he had. Even as her heel tip twisted, when her friend joined her, sending sharp jags of pain through his brain, he didn't stop lusting after her one bit. Lynsey read something of the boy's intensity, feeling herself getting energised by his desire for her to dominate him. "I choose you", she said into his mind, "to be mine for the rest of your life. You will serve me and love me as I use and abuse you for my own ends. You are mine. I will leave you here for the rest of the party, but tonight I will wear you home as the shoe that is currently torturing your eye." She laughed gaily, giddy with the power she gained from the young man's ardour.

Stepping onto the next male, she headed into the entrance hall, without so much as a backward glance. The entrance hall was bustling with stunning girls in party clothes. The floor was a gigantic diamond panel, beneath which hundreds of men lay, helpless, pinned and paralysed, staring upward. Being witches, none of the girls had any difficulty walking on this floor.

The young, beautiful, haughty and powerful girls stood together in groups of two, three or more, some were sipping drinks, some simply standing. Girls crossed the floor in every direction. None of them gave even the slightest attention to the men beneath the floor. That the men were being crushed and slowly suffocated didn't matter one jot. They would be magically healed and kept alive, they wouldn't die, they'd simply suffer; so the girls didn't worry.

Jennifer and Lynsey crossed the main entrance and went into the ballroom. The ballroom was vast. Ten gigantic chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Marble columns ran around the perimeter. Tables ran in a vast rectangle around the dance floor. At one end there was a stage where an orchestra of girls played. The dance floor was wooden. Jennifer noted something unusual about the floor.

Like bizarre growths, springing from the wooden floor, there were hands and penises protruding through holes. She guessed that there must have been thousands of men lying trapped in little cells beneath the dance floor. Each in total darkness, aware only of muted sounds from above, aware that at any moment they may feel a foot come down to squash their appendages. Already, Jennifer noted, many penises and hands showed signs of severe damage, being bent and flattened into quite unnatural shapes. Several bore rounded holes where sharp heels had penetrated.

Jennifer saw a group of girls jumping up and down. She walked across the floor to see what they were doing. Quite without deliberate intent, she had taken only two steps when her own foot came down on a protruding penis. She felt the toe of her shoe impact soft flesh, then felt something squashing out beneath her toe, like an overpacked sausage. She smiled with the realisation of what she'd done and carried on. She didn't even look down or back. Ahead of her she saw a girl in black, knee high, wedge soled boots, casually flattening a cock under her heel. The girl was facing away from Jennifer, and seemed to be telling a joke. The girl was stood quite still, keeping her heel on the bent over penis, oblivious to the agonies she was generating. Jennifer thought the girl looked athletic, in her black boots, black pants and tight vest top.

Jennifer saw that other girls in the group were stood on hands and fingers. One girl had her spiked heel right through a man's palm. The girl seemed to be stood with her heel on the floor. Jennifer realised she had gone straight through the man's hand. She smiled to see there was no blood. "Blood is messy stuff," Jennifer thought, "a girl doesn't want nasty blood spoiling her shoes; even a witch might slip. So, no blood. Pain for him, but no blood." She was pleased that everything was as it should be. As she watched, the girl impaling the man's hand angled her heel back, raising her toes, widening the hole in the palm she was torturing. She seemed to be doing this quite unconsciously, as if it were simply a form of fidgeting. It amused Jennifer that a casual act of fidegting could be so cruel.

Rounding this group, planting a heel tip on the tip of a man's finger, barely aware of the skin and bone exploding beneath the incredible pressure; she came on the group that were jumping up and down. Six girls stood in a ring, around a man who lay prone on the floor. Four stood inside the ring, on the man, using their friends to brace themselves and balance themselves. Each girl was trampling the man hard. His body seemed strangely malleable, like some sort of putty. It slowly falttened and squashed out under the merciless and relentless attack. Vanessa, who was on his lower legs threw her head back and laughed, her long black hair tossing freely. She looked stunning in a sleeveless, V-neck white dress and flat white romanesque sandals with thin straps that criss crossed her feet and lower legs up to her knees where they were tied in abow. Under her stamping feet, the mans shins looked broader and flatter than they had any right to be.

Next to her, Laura was flattening his thighs and groin. Laura looked more intimidating than her friend. She had long blonde hair, and stood 5ft 11. She had kicked off her shoes, revealing big, long, broad size 10 feet. She wore opaque white tights, a black miniskirt, a white cotton blouse and a thin black tie. She looked almost militaristic. This girl looked aggressive and energetic. She alternated between jumping up and down, or simply stamping her big sole down. She stamped on each thigh, then his groing, driving her heel down hard. Again the man appeared to be flattening out under her stomping feet. Next to her was Echo Young, a Japanese girl. She was almost elfin, with tiny features, short black hair and a willowly frame. She wore a red, gold and green dress with delicate flower patterns, white tights and wooden soled shoes. She repeatedly jabbed the heels of those shoes into the man's stomach and chest. His stomach was very flat, and his ribcage seemed to have bent inward alarmingly. However, it was his head that was the most remarkable. It wasn't just the girl on his head who was stamping down on it, as each girl at that end was also taking a turn. Holly Cartwright was the girl on his head. The beautiful auburn haired girl wore a bright red cheerleader's outfit, and a lot of the manoeuvres she did on his face were cheerleader moves.

Holly jumped up, to stand on her friends' shoulders, turned to face her victim, then leapt in the air, coming down with the hard soles of both running shoes pressed side by side, to hammer the man's already crushed head. His head grew wider and flatter. Holly stepped back slightly as the three girls at the man's head each delivered a stomp to their rag doll's face.

Jennifer approached the girls, spearing a man's testicle on the way, and stood close by. "He's in a lot of pain," Echo told her, "we've made him turn plastic. See the way he's flattening out. It feels just the same as if we ran over him in a ten ton truck, but we use our feet instead. Shame for him he can't pass out. He just has to lie there and take it." Echo laughed, "and if we get him flat, we just pump him up and start again. Cool huh!!!" Jennifer had to admit it was very cool.

Poreolight School Part 11

Elsewhere, Jennifer Blaze was also finding things very interesting. She had followed her instincts and headed downstairs to the lower floors. The first room she came to was a large hall that had been converted into a play room. To Jennifer's immediate right as she headed through the doors there was a row of four trampolines. Each trampoline was being used by a beautiful girl. Each of the girls had kicked off their shoes, and they were bouncing up and down, falling over, giggling and generally having fun. Jennifer approached the first trampoline. She watched as the girl, Nadine, a raven haired Irish girl with an incredibly pretty face, came down hard, stretching the mat of the trampoline under her nylon clad soles, then shot up into the air. Jennifer heard a loud groan as the girl was propelled toward the ceiling. She smiled to see that the entire mat was the stretched and distended figure of a man. From the look on his face and the way his eyes rolled he was feeling a lot of pain. He looked sick.

Colin, a young man from England, was suffering badly. It was horrid enough being stretched and distorted into this broad flat shape. It was immensely painful to have powerful springs piercing his body and tugging firmly at his sides. The addition of a wicked young minx of a girl who cared nothing for him or his suffering, or if she did care it was only to see how much suffering she could inflict; made it terribly worse. When she came down upon him and the soles of her stocking feet impacted him, it felt like she was breaking him up. She impacted his face, and he thought his skull might crack. She impacted his chest and he thought his straining ribs would give, splintering agonisingly under her pounding feet. When she hit his stomach he may as well have been thumped by an iron fist. His stomach muscles screamed and he felt sick and dizzy. Every time she landed on his groin he thought he might faint. It was a searing pain, like being burnt and crushed simultaneously.

Nadine bounced up and down gaily. She came down with feet together, heels first on the face, bent her knees, then whooped with delight as the living mat shot her upward again. She twisted in the air, and came down knees first on the man's chest, letting out a whoop of joy. Again, she stretched the mat down several feet before springing back into the air. She twisted in mid-air, to come down feet first on his belly. The man's face was a rictus of agony. Nadine simply grinned, delighted to see his grimace of pain, then shot up, raising her legs and feet out ahead of her so she could come down bottom first. Her pert and round and perfect bottom thumped into Colin's stomach knocking the air from him.

Jennifer kicked off her shoes and jumped up on the perimeter of the trampoline as Nadine came down, bum first, on Colin's face. The clever girl bounced upa again and let herself come to a halt. Nadine smiled and beckoned Jennifer on. Every footstep Jennifer took sank deep into the man's distorted form. To him it felt like she was tearing his limbs apart. He groaned helplessly as this pretty girl tortured him with her delicate feet by simply walking across his body. Nadine and Jennifer joined hands in the centre of the mat. They began bouncing on their toes, making the mat sink deeper and bounce a little higher each time. They bent their knees and used their calf muscles and thighs to get more energy. Soon they were lifting a few inches from the man that was their mat. Then they lifetd a few more and a few more. Soon they were bouncing several feet in the air. They laughed and cried out for joy, oblivious to the agonies they were inflicting while having their girlish fun.

Jennifer played on the trampoline for nearly an hour until finally she grew bored. She stepped off and decided to carry on looking round. She slipped her sandals back on and moved on. She saw a cluster of those dance machines they have in amusement arcades, the kind where you bounce on different squares in time to the music, following the pattern on the screen. On one in the middle she saw two Japanese looking girls playing against one another. They were both small, no more than 5ft 2, wearing white blouses, pleated tartan miniskirts, knee length white cotton socks and buffalo soled trainers. Each had black hair cut in a tidy bob. Jennifer realised they were twins. Each was frantically moving about, bouncing on the squares around them. Sometimes they would tap a foot on one square as instructed, sometimes they would bounce on pairs of squares, be it left and right, front and back or other combinations. It came as no surprise to Jennifer that in the centre of each square was a man's face, protruding through the floor and facing toward the ceiling. The Japanese twins had clearly been busy, the men's eyes were puffy and swollen shut, their noses were broken and bent over at unnatural angles, their cheeks and foreheads were clearly bruised, and their lips looked smashed and cut.

Jennifer was amazed at the speed of the girls movements, their slender legs were nearly a blur. She was impressed by their co-ordination and their intense desire to best each other. She watched as both girls shot out a right foot to tap the face that was the front square twice with the hard plastic toe of their shoe. Both stomped the already crooked noses on the faces that served as their squares. She grinned to see both girls jumping in the air before whipping both legs out, one left and one right, to bounce on the faces in the left and right squares three times. Each time, the girl's heels hit the men's chins, the soles crushed the men's noses and the toes of their shoes hit the men's already red and sore foreheads. The faces grimaced under the constant punishment. The beat of the music grew faster and faster and the girls' movements followed suit. They stamped their feet down harder with every beat, leaving the men looking like they had gone ten rounds in a boxing match and lost badly. Jennifer giggled to see the girls running in place on their centre square faces, until the round ended and the game was momentarily tied.

Jennifer smiled, then realised she was thirsty. She decided to head upstairs to the bar. That meant she missed the next room. The next room was an indoor tennis court. Four girls were having a game of doubles. All wore sleeveless white cotton tennis dresses, white ankle socks and trainers. Each girl had a cooling man insole for each shoe, and each had six shrunken men laying across the soles of their shoes to form a padded tread. These men were be flattened out agonisingly with each step, then reflated as the pressure lifted; only to be flattened again moments later. As the girls moved, running, stopping, changing direction, slamming their feet down on the hard wood floor, the men inside and outside their shoes were twisted and pummelled in exquisitely painful ways. They weren't the only men suffering for the girls fun though.

The four girls, Lucy, Kylie, Courtney and Gemma, each had very special racquets. Four unfortunate males found themselves shrunk to the length of a tennis racquet, with their legs pressed tight together, and their arms pressed tightly to their sides. Their bodies, from the neck down were cylindrical, just like a normal racquet. The men's heads were stretched and distorted. They were wide, round and flattened. Their desperate faces stared outward, dreading the arrival of the ball. Each time a girl triumphantly hit the ball, using all her strength, the man received a hammering pain where it hit his face. The ball would impact their eyes, nose, mouth, cheeks or forehead. The men looked bruised, battered and dazed. The game had been going on for over an hour and the girls showed no sign of stopping. They would pause between games, trotting over to courtside seats with shrunken men serving as pilows. The girls skirts were very short, and when they sat, it was their white cotton panties that pressed upon the powerless men. Their panties were damp from sweat, and very aromatic.

Kylie, a cute little blonde goddess of a girl walked over to her chair. The living cushion could only stare upwards. The entire upper surface of the cushion was his face, the rest of him being bent round, underneath. Kylie didn't pause, she simply positioned her perfect arse over the waiting man pillow and sat. The tennis dress she wore had a very high hem, which rode up as she sat. The end result was that her panties were pressed down on the man's waiting face, not her skirt. Her buttocks spread, settling onto and sealing the man's nose and mouth. Her ass covered his eyes, sealing him in airless darkness. The man pillow became aware of the warmth of her skin, the softness of it and the smell. He smelt sweat and some other, faint odours with an odd tang. Sweat ran from the small of her back into his mouth. More trickled into his eyes and nose, stinging slightly. His head buzzed from lack of oxygen. He could survive for a long time without oxygen, but it was painful.

Each girl sat on her man pillow and rested, drinking bottled water to soothe their thirsts. The men below them were unimportant, insignificant, nothings. "Hey," said Courtney, a beautiful, tall willowy girl with black hair, "why don't we throw in some crawlers for extra points and extra fun?" All the girls laughed and agreed this was a good idea. Crawlers were tiny shrunken men, barely a centimetre long, who were prevented from walking, so they had to crawl like maggots. Moments later the floor of the court seethed with little pink squirming bodies. The girls returned to their game. At first, they couldn't help squishing the little men, who simply found themselves returned to the dreams they had been having. Each step left a deep shoe shaped hole with mushed bodies at the bottom which disappeared moments later. After a while though more and more of the men had been squished and it was harder and harder to get them. Their were bonus points for the first pair who squished all their crawlers.

Meanwhile, Jennifer had found her way to the bar. She spotted an opening on the far side. She waded through the crowd, oblivious to the male hands and penises she stepped on on her way. As she got closer she realised that the girl with an empty seat to her right was Lynsey. Jennifer patted her friend on the shoulder, moved between the chrome stools and sat on the padded cushion. She wigled her bottom slightly to sit comfortably on the protruding face that formed the centre part of her cushion. Each seat had a man fixed inside. These men had only been altered a little. Their heads would bend back at ninety degrees, and they could, if needs be, hold their breath for hours; although this did cause them great pain. They had also been paralysed so they couldn't move or escape or disturb their user. Each man's penis rested on a board, and if the girl cocked her foot back slightly she could press the head flat beneath her toes. Both Jennifer and Lynsey were doing just that, occasionally turning the foot with a penis beneath left and right, just to add to the man's discomfort. For the men time passed immensely slowly. Their joints ached, their muscles screamed for release, their necks protested at being bent so unnaturally. Their lungs screamed when a fleshy bottom sealed mouth and nose. They sometimes had to inhale noxious smells from their sitter, making them feel dizzy and sick.

The party went on until the next morning, with the girls finding more and more inventive ways of tormenting their male guests. Shrunken men served as cushions on every chair in the dining room. The toilet blocks offered many opportunities for cruel humiliation and abasement. Living spitoons were dotted here and there, to receive any produce that came their way. They doubled as ashtrays and many had their mouths filled with smoked out cigarette butts. Man mats covered the entire floor where the girls who were doing the catering came and went. The caterers all wore black, shiny, block heeled loafers, black tights, black miniskirts and white cotton blouses. They were not witches, they were girls with open minds who enjoyed torturing males and kept what went on at the school very discrete. Their were rooms full of shrunken me whose only role was to get splatted into paste, before being healed and getting splatted again.

Finally the girls were ready to go home. Jennifer didn't forget about the boy she had chosen. With a flick of her wrist she transformed him into her shoe, feeling it change subtly beneath her stockinged sole. He was delighted to be taken, and his heart filled with love and lust for his goddess. Jennifer just laughed.


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