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The Best Vacation Ever part I
It was Saturday morning, almost noon. I was still tired, sleeping in until almost eleven. I had staid up very late the previous night partying alone and I took the opportunity to sleep in. I made myself an egg and toast and left the pan in the sink for my lovely but equally bitchy wife Donna to deal with. "Oh, I'll get that," Donna said sarcastically as she entered the kitchen. "I'm on vacation," I answered defensively; and I was. Saturday was the first day of my two weeks off, and I figured I deserved it. I planned on doing absolutely nothing but lie around and drink beer. This was going to be the best vacation ever. I cashed my vacation time in for money the first six years of my job as a computer programmer. Donna and I had just bought a house and we really needed the money. Besides, I was right out of college then with my masters degree in hand. I didn't need time off. I was younger and full of enthusiasm. Last month I turned thirty and yes this vacation I truly deserved, whether Donna agreed or not. "So you really won't go shopping with me today?" Donna pleaded with her large but soft brown eyes. She already knew the answer, but I offered her one anyway.
"No way," I whined. "I'm on ..."
"Vacation," Donna interrupted. "I know. I heard you the first fourteen times."
I knew Donna was disappointed in me, but I didn't care. She had offered to take a week off herself so we could "be together." My response was that if she didn't want to be with me under normal conditions, she certainly didn't need to be with me during MY VACATION. She was mad as hell for a while, but I think she eventually saw my point and got over it. It's not like we were setting fire to our queen sized mattress. We were going on seven years of marriage and the passion was waning. I knew she was somewhere on the other side of the bed every night but I didn't care enough to roll over and find her. Between my computer career and the law firm she worked, or I should say lived for, we were moving steadily apart.
"Did you at least finish the shoes you were fixing for me?" Donna asked. "You promised you'd have them ready yesterday. I need them Monday."
"Relax," I answered, stopping Donna before she went into a tirade. "I finished them last night."
"While you were drinking? Oh great. How do I know you didn't mess them up?"
"Don't worry," I said reassuringly. "They are true works of art. The criminals that are assigned to you will fit quite nicely."
"They're not criminals," Donna protested. "They are misguided souls we are giving help to before they become criminals."
"Whatever," I answered. "Would you like to see the final product?"
"Hurry up and get them. I'm meeting Sandy at one."
I went down to the basement to fetch the shoes I made. I hadn't actually made them. What I did was modify an existing pair. I'll get into that later. My attention moved from my two masterpieces to the sound of dishes and pans clanging in the kitchen. All of a sudden Donna didn't seem to mind cleaning up after me.
"Fickle women," I said out loud. As I looked at my creations and made sure all the glue had dried, I heard Donna's voice. She was rambling away on the telephone. Although I really didn't care, it sounded like she was in a better humor.
"Soon I'll feel like a new woman," I heard her say. I knew, or thought I did, why she'd soon feel like a knew woman. I felt an urge of anger. How could she take pleasure from another's suffering? For a split second I did care about her sudden change of spirit, but I quickly pushed the feeling aside. It was my vacation and "DAMN IT" no broad, not even one I was married to, was going to ruin it for me. By the time I had reached the top of the cellar steps, Donna was off the phone. It seemed to me that she hung it up just a little too quickly when I popped through the door.
"Here you go," I said as I dropped the shoes on the kitchen table.
"They don't look much different," Donna said bluntly. "What exactly did you do?"
"I did exactly what you wanted me to do," I answered defensively. "Stop attacking me and look inside."
Donna then spent the next several minutes examining the shoes. "I don't know," she said. "How do I know they'll work."
"I guess you'll just have to trust me," I answered arrogantly.
"How about we try them out on you," Donna asked innocently enough. "Give me five minutes of your time and I'll let you have your peaceful vacation alone. I won't even say your name."
"Yeah right," I said mockingly. Ninety percent of me wasn't worried, but the other ten percent was concerned. I still didn't really believe any of it.
"You still don't believe me, do you?" Donna asked shaking her head. "It's true. It's all true. They just gave me the power yesterday. Wanna see?"
"No way," I answered too quickly. The look in Donna's eyes had the level of concern in me at fifty percent and rising rapidly. "Go shopping," I said desperately as I backed myself into a corner. I tried to sound cool and composed but I think my voice was giving me away.
"Relax," Donna said softly. "It's just me. I won't hurt you."
"But it's my vacation," I pleaded. I didn't know what else to say. "Please just leave me alone."
Donna took two steps forward. Her eyes narrowed. They weren't the full bright shiny orbs I had years ago learned to love. They had transformed before me to globes of power and destruction. I found myself sitting on the floor in the corner hugging my knees; my tired eyes locked with Donna's overwhelming stare. I felt my will giving in to the power that was overtaking me. Donna stood over me; her five foot six form seemed to tower over my once six foot frame as if my size was diminishing drastically. I grew light headed. I felt as though my consciousness was alluding me. Despite the desire for rest, I knew I wanted to survive. I had to somehow stay awake to see what this vixen I had called my wife for years was doing to me. I knew I was losing the battle. I made one last attempt to fight off the hot brown suns sucking the life out of me, but I didn't stand a chance. Despite my efforts, I gave into her increasingly omniscient glare and fell into a deep and timeless sleep.
Minutes, that felt like hours later I awoke. I immediately knew where I was. Terror bit into me and took control of my emotions like the jaws of a mad pitbull. I reacted violently, throwing my arms and kicking my legs. I twisted from side to side, but the two straps binding me didn't budge. I felt as though I was overloading with adrenaline when I heard a deep but soft female voice that I knew belonged to my wife.
"Calm down," she whispered so not to frighten me further. "You'll hurt yourself."
It took some effort, but I was able to still my supercharged body. I looked out the heart shaped whole before me and saw the same giant brown eyes I had seen before I fell asleep. Two weeks earlier, Donna had asked me if I could take one of her shoes and modify it to allow a living five inch tall person to fit inside it.
"What are you talking about?" I asked. "A five inch tall person, if one existed, could easily fit inside any of your shoes."
"Not if I was wearing it," Donna countered. I was befuddled.
"What are you talking about?" I asked again. I was loosing my patience. Donna then went on to explain how her firm was working with the state to test a new and more drastic method of punishment. It was proposed, by a leading psychologist, that if a first time offender was shrunken and worn inside the shoe a another person, the first time offender would be cured. The state agreed with the findings and chose Donna's law firm to implement the trial period of the program. Of course I thought it was all a pile of nonsense. Donna assured me it was all true. What she told me next would have floored me; that is if I believed one word of it. Donna went on to say that she and two other young lawyers were chosen to inflict the punishment. She said she would only punish women. The eminent psychologist also stated that putting certain men under a woman's foot could be enjoyable for the man, so rather than open another can of worms, only women would be given to women. Now I really didn't believe a word of it. Still Donna went on.
"I really need you to take me seriously," Donna demanded. "This is really important to my career."
"All right already," I said cutting her off. Donna could really go off verbally if one let her. "What exactly do want in this shoe?"
"I want you to make a shoe I can put a five inch tall person into, then wear the shoe without killing her."
"Whatever you want," I said. I was having a hard time believing the entire conversation was actually happening. I wanted it to end. "I'll get right on it."
A week later, I hadn't even looked at her shoe collection. She had asked me daily how it was coming, and I answered "I'm working on it" each time she asked. I thought she was loosing her marbles, believing all this nonsense, until one of the partners of her firm called me personally. Mr. Peters assured me that what my wife told me was the truth and he was counting on me to make the modification to not one, but both shoes in a pair. I still thought my leg was being pulled, but I went to work immediately. Searching through my wife's shoes for the perfect pair left me feeling like an idiot, but I quickly settled on a pair of thick rubber soled open toed shoes that looked like clogs, but weren't open at the heel like clogs. The pair was actually one of my favorites. Donna's long painted toes looked kinda cute wiggling out the end of the leather shoes. The first thing I did was draw an outline of a body on the soles of the both shoes. I drew the head where the base of Donna's first two toes would be just like she specified. I then draw the rest of the body. I marked the beginning and end of where the crushing balls of Donna's feet would be. The drawing's chest fell in between these two marks, so I carved a cavity that the person's chest could fit into. The rest of the drawing would be under Donna's soft arched sole, so no other carving was needed. Donna had said that she wanted to be able to see the person's face in the shoe. When I looked down upon the clogs, I only saw the very top of the drawing's head. That wasn't enough, so I cut a heart shape into the top of the shoe over the figure's face. The heart, which looked like an extension of the open toe area, worked extremely well with the overall look of the shoe. The next thing I did was find a piece of soft beige colored velvet. I cut the velvet to cover the entire rubber sole of each shoe and glued it in. At least the person under my wife's feet would be lying on something soft. I added an additional strip of the velvet under where the inhabitant's head would be for a little additional padding. I had only one more thing to add to the clogs. They needed straps to hold the criminals down. Velcro was the answer for the straps. I found some very thin, very soft Velcro straps and glued them into the shoes. I could still make out the chalk figure under the velvet, and I glued one strip over the chalk figure's neck. The other held down it's two dimensional waste. I had to hold back a chuckle thinking if the woman under my wife's foot would become two dimensional like my chalk drawing. When I was finished, the night before I showed them to Donna, I looked with pride at my completed project. Sure I was drunk and everything looks good when you're drunk, but Donna's refurbished clogs really looked good. As I sat at my work bench in my basement admiring my handiwork, I never imagined I'd be the guinea pig when it came time to try them out. "What are you doing to me?" my voice squeaked. I could barely hear myself. I knew there was no way Donna could hear me. "Just relax and try to enjoy yourself," Donna's deep dark and sexy voice whispered. "This should only take a minute or so. Then I'll make you big again." I wasn't feeling any better. I was staring like a deer in headlights about to get sent to animal heaven at the glowing brown eyes burning down on me through the heart shaped opening I myself had hand crafted. Then the eyes weren't in the opening any more. I readjusted on a nose. Donna's cute little nose wasn't a cute little nose anymore. It was a living furnace that my whole head and probably half my body could easily be snorted into. I watched the nose, imagining my legs dangling from one of its nostrils, until it moved out of site. What my eyes focused on next made my testicles want to climb back into my abdominal cavity. I saw Donna's lips from a new perspective and I instantly realized I'd been taking them for granted for years. They were the size of a building and were magnificent; thick full and calling my life force to be between them. I had to have them. My arms extended outward toward them, but my longing fingers weren't even close. They didn't even reach the heart shaped opening at the top of the shoe. The lips I wanted so desperately were a universe away. My arms were still extended when the downward motion began. The lips became lips and a nose, then lips and a whole face. Then I saw nothing but white. I felt like I was in an elevator free-falling from the 98th floor. I knew I'd hit bottom soon. I closed my eyes and waited for the impact that might put me out of my misery, if indeed I was experiencing misery. At that moment in time I didn't know what I was experiencing. The impact of the shoe hitting the floor wasn't as bad as I would have guessed, had I enough time to put any thought into the matter. As the shoe fell, it rolled so the top of the shoe hit first. The Velcro straps held firm or I would have been plastered to the top inside of Donna's shoe. The shoe took one forward bounce and came to rest on its side where it remained for only about two seconds. My dungeon was rolled back upright by what I assumed was Donna's foot. "Sorry about that dear," came Donna's deep voice from up above. I looked way up through my heart shaped hole and saw Donna's face looming down on me. That's when the truth of my current situation really hit home. It was then that I was sure I wasn't dreaming and what Donna was planning to do to her criminals, and to me very briefly, was actually going to happen. But did she have to drop the shoe with me in it from so high? It was a mean thing to do and it had me very concerned. "I just had to make sure the Velcro held," Donna continued. "We wouldn't want you to move out of position and become a stain in my shoe now would we?" Donna smiled a smile I didn't care for and said one more thing. "Try to relax and enjoy yourself. This will only take a few seconds." Then I felt the clog I was in begin to move. I ripped my eyes from the face of my towering wife and looked past my cold and naked body. What I saw made me scream. Donna's foot, led by her huge big toe, was entering the shoe. I thought I knew what real fear was. I was wrong. Being afraid of the monster in the closet, or the hairy spider crawling up your arm, or the sickness in your stomach before your first job interview were all nothing compared to the feeling of being overtaken by a foot twice your length and four times your width while you lie helpless on your back. Donna's foot descended upon me like a black cloud of death - my death. I watched the big toe, twice the size of my head, pass over my feet then my knees then my waist. The other smaller toes wiggled ever so slightly to my right. My heart raced, but I was unable to move or even breathe as I followed Donna's big toe across my chest. I saw the edge of her toenail peering down over the tip of her plump big toe. Then the toe nail was out of sight as the giant big toe moved directly over top of my head all the while dropping closer and closer to my face. I remembered a dream I had as a child; a dream that came to me whenever I was sick and feverish. In it, a giant ball of rock, bigger than a city was falling on the Earth. All I could do was wait for the inevitable. In my dream, the boulder would block out the sun as it fell, growing larger and larger as it reached the ground. Before it hit, total blackness took its ugly hold of the land. Then each time I had the dream I'd wake, screaming for my mother. As Donna's foot overtook me, I tried to wake from the dream but I couldn't. I was already awake and the dream was reality. My neck bent backwards as I watched the meat of Donna's big toe cover up the heart shaped opening I had innocently cut into the top of Donna's shoe. My eyes then landed on the soft fold at the base of my wife's big toe as it settled upon my face. The ball of Donna's foot simultaneously landed on my chest as did Donna's sole on the rest of my body. The first thing I noticed when Donna's foot landed on me was how soft the bottom of her foot was. The smooth skin actually felt nice against my naked body. I felt the fear in me begin to dissolve, absorbed by the warm feeling flowing out from my wife's sole. Donna's foot rested on me gently for a couple of seconds giving me a false sense of security. My fears had dissipated. I even felt foolish. I decided I'd be an idiot if I didn't at least try to enjoy the few seconds of pleasure I was being given under my wife's giant foot. How many men could say the same? Even if it turned out to be less pleasurable, although at the time it didn't seem possible, it would only last a few seconds. Donna had said so herself. As I lied motionless under Donna's foot, I realized I hadn't taken a breath since Donna's awesome ped entered the shoe. I decided it was time. Keeping my mouth closed, I inhaled through my nose. My face was pressed fairly tightly against the underside of Donna's toe, but I was able to breathe in a chest full. The smell of Donna's foot sent me reeling. That first whiff was heaven. I had smelled Donna's feet in the past, but not this close and personal. The aroma was breathtaking. I exhaled and quickly inhaled again. I didn't wanted to hyperventilate, but I did want to get enough of the smell in me to last a few days. Again I exhaled. Again I inhaled, this time slowly. I felt a hard-on come to life against Donna's warm sole. For the first time in my life I was experiencing total bliss. Then Donna began to step down and apply some weight I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't immediately realize the pressure on my body was increasing. When I did realize, the feeling of euphoria left me instantly and was replaced by uncertainty. I wasn't exactly sure what was happening until I fully regained my senses. As the weight on me increased, the reality of my situation came down on me like the wrecking ball of my childhood nightmares. My chest was forced by the ball of Donna's foot into the cavity I had carved. My torso, along with the velvet material I had glued inside the shoe, was pushed into the rubber. My face was planted in the base of Donna's big toe so my head remained in place. This caused my neck to be bent painfully backwards. The further my back sank into the crevice in the shoe, the more unnaturally my neck was bent. And the further my chest was pressed into the shoe, the more my face was left exposed like a lame sitting duck to the underside of Donna's big toe. Long before the full extent of Donna's weight was on me did my back bottom out in the cavity I had carved. It didn't take long for me to realize I was in trouble. I hadn't carved the cavity deep enough. My chest had nowhere else to go and the weight from Donna's foot was increasing. I needed to fix the shoes, but I really didn't think I'd get the chance. I was seriously worried that the breath being forced from my chest had been the last one I'd ever take. Although my ribs felt like they were crumbling, the pain wasn't overwhelming. It was like my chest was already numb, like I was three quarters dead already. I waited for the end to come, the time to meet my maker, but it didn't happen. Instead, the level of force applied to my body leveled off. I realized Donna was standing with all her weight on me and I was still alive. My chest hurt and my lungs burned, but I was still alive. After a couple of long seconds, I felt the weight on me roll from my chest to my face. Donna was taking a step. Now it was my face's turn to be crushed. My nose felt like it was obliterated and my cheekbones felt like they were pulverized, but I survived Donna's first step. Soon all the weight on me was gone and I felt motion. I knew I didn't have a whole lot of time to refill my burning lungs with air before Donna's foot hit the ground again, so I tried to inhale deeply. When I did, the pain receptors in my lungs came back to life and I began wheezing and coughing badly. I tried to calm my spasming diaphragm quickly but it was no use. I felt the floor hitting the bottom of Donna's shoe before I was able to get one mouthful of oxygen into my blood stream. I survived the next few seconds the same way I survived Donna's first step, barely. The pressure on my chest, then my face was equally as destructive, but afterward as I was hurled forward toward yet another grueling pounding, I realized I'd somehow survived a second step. Although I didn't come close to satisfying my desire for air, the second attempt wasn't as bad as the first. I was at least able to inhale a little between gags. Three steps later I was on the verge of passing out. I figured my blood had to be blue from lack of oxygen. I just wasn't able to breathe calmly in the time period it took Donna's foot to move forward. Fortunately, Donna stopped walking. After five quick steps, Donna stood full weight on me for a couple seconds, then she removed her foot from the shoe just like she said she'd do. Finally I was able to breathe. My taxed lungs were pumping a little closer to normal but I was still having trouble catching my breath. My lungs just wouldn't let themselves fill up. I was concentrating so much on my breathing I hardly felt Donna's big toe rub the length of my body as it left the shoe. I barely felt Donna's fingernails grasp the Velcro straps and pull them loose. I was just beginning to join reality as Donna's fingers grabbed my ankles and pulled me out of the shoe. Donna then lifted me up even with her face. She held me dangling up-side-down by my feet while she looked at me. My eyes were even with her magnificent lips and I watched them move as she spoke. "You don't look too bad dear," she whispered in her deep voice. "Besides being out of breath, you look just fine. You need to learn to breathe while we try the other shoe." That reminded me. I pulled my attention away from the magnificent moving works of humanity before me and tried to muster up a sentence. I had to tell Donna the cavities in the shoes weren't deep enough. She needed to know I wouldn't survive another round, but when I tried to talk, only coughing came out. "If only you knew how good you felt inside my shoe," Donna continued with her large smiling lips. She then gently placed me inside her other shoe. I began to struggle again, but Donna ignored my fit and held me down with her forefinger. That's when I realized her fingernail polish matched her toenail polish. The forefinger of Donna's other hand entered the shoe from the toe opening and secured my neck. The other forefinger, the one that had me pinned, took care of the waist strap. I looked through the heart shaped opening and saw Donna's soft brown eyes looking back. I tried to communicate my distress to them, but the connection failed. My second shoe prison turned and I was on my way back down. Again the shoe hit the floor and I felt my restraints hold tightly. Again the shoe was uprighted and a giant bare foot entered the shoe. This foot landed on me just like the other one had. And like before, my chest was crushed, the air was pumped out of my lungs, my head was bent backward and my face was plastered into the flesh at the base of Donna's big toe. I prepared myself for round two, this time at the mercy of Donna's left foot. Donna took her first step and I realized this shoe was no better than the first. She took her second step and I still hadn't refilled my lungs. Four more torturous steps later I still hadn't learned the knack of breathing. I was on the verge of passing out again, but I knew the test of this shoe would be over momentarily. Any second Donna's foot would lift off me and my stay under her feet would be over. That's not what happened. After about eight steps, I think, Donna sat down and lifted the foot I was under off the floor. She had it in the air long enough for me to catch my breath. It was then that I realized her foot odor was starting to get to me. The aroma that minutes ago was sending me to the edge of euphoria was now making me nauseous. It didn't matter. It would soon be over. I waited patently for Donna to remove her foot, but she didn't. Instead she stood back up and the air that had my lungs feeling better was once again gone. Donna took one step but didn't put the foot I was under back down until I had inhaled. She then took a second step and once again hesitated until I breathed. She took a dozen more steps, each time waiting for me to breathe before crushing the air back out of me. After a few minutes, Donna had taught me how to breathe while she walked. She also taught me that she had no intention of letting me out right away. It seemed I was unwillingly going shopping with her after all. It was when I felt the hum of the car motor vibrating me and my new home that I knew for sure Donna was not letting me go. I didn't know how long I was inside Donna's shoe. I do know I was awake and conscious the entire time. I had to be. Breathing wasn't easy. With each step Donna took, I was winded. I had to force my lungs to open each time the pressure of Donna's foot lifted off of me. Breathing was no longer an autonomic response. I knew when Donna wasn't walking. Each time she sat down or lifted her foot for any amount of time, I felt a glimmer of hope. I prayed she'd remove her foot from her shoe and free me from my prison. Each time she stood back up or began walking again, I cried. It wasn't long before I knew the new punishment her firm was trying out would work. It was working on me. I saw the error in my neglectful ways and I was ready to change. Donna had made her point. What she needed to do now was let me go; but she didn't. At one point in the afternoon Donna did remove her foot. At first I felt renewed hope, but when I saw her giant face looming down at me through that dastardly heart shaped hole I had so stupidly carved, I realized it was only to check on me and gloat. She saw my pained eyes looking back at her and quickly reinserted her foot. Again, I cried. I knew I still had a ways to go. I remember thinking the punishment I was getting was way too extreme. Never had I hurt Donna physically. Sure I neglected her, but she was the one that was cold in bed. I did not deserve what Donna was doing to me. I just wanted her to realize enough was enough. The problem was that she didn't know I hadn't carved the chest cavity deep enough. Donna didn't know the extent of my suffering. Finally Donna's foot did leave the shoe. I'm sure it was many hours after I entered it. I had gotten quite good at breathing between chest crushing steps. In fact, I was so good at it I actually fell asleep. I didn't fall asleep while Donna was walking around the mall. Not even Rip Van Winkle would have gotten any shut-eye through that. I fell asleep during the drive home. The gentle hum of the engine along with the soft pressure of Donna's foot on the accelerator was more than I could muster, especially after the day I had been through. I fell asleep. I even think I was on the verge of a wet dream. Donna's soft arch manipulating my male organ as it moved from the gas to the brake and back was stimulating my unconscious mind. I would have creamed the underside of Donna's foot had we not arrived home when we did. The walk from the car to the house, not only woke me from my orgasmic dream, it re-taught me how to breathe. I found myself in culture shot trying to rethink my predicament. It didn't take me long to remember where I was. It also didn't take me long to turn the tears back on. I didn't cry long. I hadn't had anything to drink but toe sweat for hours, so I was borderline dehydrated. My throat was dry and I wanted to die, at the mercy of my wife. I think the only thing that kept me trying to stay alive was the remembrance of Donna's gargantuan lips and the possibility of meeting them up close before I was returned to normal size. Finally Donna removed her foot from the shoe and freed me from the Velcro with her slender fingers. Again she lifted me upside down to her face where I was given another panoramic view of her lips. "I'm sorry," she offered. "I didn't mean to keep you in my shoe all day. It's just that you felt so good in there I couldn't bring myself to letting you out." She giggled. "You look thirsty." I was thirsty. I nodded vehemently and Donna lowered me to the bathroom sink. She placed me gently in the bowl and turned on the water. "Do your business and get yourself a drink," she said. "I'll be right back." I didn't remember our tap water ever tasting so good. I had my fill and wanted to shower the smell of Donna's foot off me but the water was too cold. I stood away from the stream, getting colder and colder until Donna came back into the bathroom and saw me shivering. "Oh I'm sorry dear," she said as she turned the hot water knob. I then watched her hands enter the stream. Once her hands were wet, Donna grabbed the bar of soap and lathered her hands. I imagined I was the bar of soap spinning and rolling in her soft hands. I wasn't imagining lone before Donna grabbed me and I became the bar of soap. Donna's warm wet soapy hands rubbed up and down my body. Her fingers cleaned under my armpits. Her fingernails rubbed up and down the insides of my legs. She even took care of the underside of my balls nearly bringing me to the point of no return. When I was thoroughly clean, Donna rinsed me off and dried me in a wash cloth. She then wrapped me in a tissue and carried me into the kitchen where she placed me on the kitchen table. By the time Donna was finished with me, I was madly in love with her hands, but I still hadn't forgotten about her lips. From the microwave oven, Donna pulled out a steaming dish. She carried it over to the table and put it in front of her chair. She grabbed her fork that was longer than I was and began to eat. "Dig in," she told me. The smell of heated up spaghetti hit me like a bowling ball. I was starving. I wanted to attack the giant sized noodles but the sight of Donna's fork stabbing into the pile of spaghetti had me too concerned to move. "Don't worry dear," Donna laughed. "I won't accidentally eat you." She licked her lips with an orange tongue and smiled. I stepped forward toward the dish. "If I eat you, it will be on purpose." I froze. I thought she was kidding, but with what she had already done to me, I wasn't sure. "Relax and eat something. After dinner we'll see about making you big again and you can get on with your vacation, now that we know the shoes you made work." That reminded me. The shoes needed to be fixed. I tried to tell Donna that I needed to work on the shoes more. I didn't want anyone getting killed because I made a defective pair of shoes. I stood up and yelled to Donna, but she couldn't hear my tiny voice, and she didn't seem to care either. She just went on her merry way eating spaghetti. When she was finished, She carried the plate back into the kitchen and cleaned up what little mess there was. I wasn't filled up, but I had eaten enough. I figured I'd eat a hearty snack, along with a stiff drink, when I was full size again. Donna returned to the table and scooped me up. She held me softly in her palm, pulled my security tissue off, and lifted me up even with her lips. Again I marveled at their magnificence. "I owe you for the enjoyment you gave me today my little lover," she whispered. My heart began to pound as I wondered what that meant. I found out immediately. Donna ever so slowly moved her palm, with my naked body in it, up to her lips. I watched her pink gleaming slabs of flesh slowly pucker as I drew near. Closer and closer I came. My aroused penis was the first to touch. It hit and was swallowed between Donna's warm lips. The rest of my body, from my waist on up to my face hit shortly thereafter. That's where I spent what seemed like the rest of the evening. Donna seemed to be able to read the level of my sexual enlightenment. Somehow she was able to, with her lips, keep me on the verge of an orgasm for hours. With the slightest lip movements, she was able to suck me into the throws of fireworks. Then, turning her soft lips into powerful weapons of destruction, she would carefully bring me back down to the world of the pathetic, only to reverse the cycle and work my energies back up again. Finally, after two hour long TV dramas that I was able to partially hear during my down times, Donna tired of the game and brought me to a climax unequalled by anything she had ever brought me to at equal size and strength. I shook and spasmed while Donna's giant lips sucked the life out of me. I shot wad after wad into her cavernous mouth. Long after I was bone dry, with my prostate still sending out dry loads, my consciousness succumbed to the energy I had spent not only between Donna's lips riding wave after wave of sexual pleasure, but also under her foot trying to stay alive. While still between the lips of my wife, who at the moment, I was very much in love with, I fell into a deep and dreamy sleep where I spent all night long between her goddess-like lips. When I awoke , I had no idea where I was. I felt refreshed, like I had just slept for a full day, but my mind was still foggy. I lifted my arms up to my face and rubbed my eyes, but the odd lighting didn't change. Only a small amount of light was entering my sleep chamber and was coming from an opening above my face shaped like a heart. I found that odd at first, but when I gathered my wits and tried to sit up, it all came rushing back at me like an Amtrak F-7A with me tied to the tracks. I was in one of Donna's shoes, probably the left, strapped down by the Velcro. A flood of day old memories bombarded me, reminding me of my current plight. Donna had not restored my size like she had promised, probably because I had fallen asleep between her lips. It was my own fault for falling asleep, but then again how was I supposed to not fall asleep. She was the one who wore me in her shoe all day then sucked on me for hours. I was just a pawn and Donna was the giantess queen acting out her desires. I hoped she would wake up with it all out of her system and grow me back. I was thinking about my plight when I heard Donna's deep soft voice enter the room. She was singing a twenty year old "BLONDY" song. "One way or another I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha. One way..." Despite everything, I chuckled. She had to be singing that particular song for my benefit. She definitely got me. "Good morning dear," Donna said to me as she looked at me through the heart. I could tell by the distance between us that I had slept on a table, probably her night stand. I wanted to ask her why I was still small strapped in her shoe, but I knew I couldn't. Although it was early in the morning, the frustration of not being able to communicate was taking a hold of me. "Do you know how you never want to go to church with me?" Donna asked my vulnerable form. I really didn't like the sound of the question. "Well today we're going to church. Unfortunately you're going in my shoe."
"But I need to fix it," I yelled. Again it was no use. At this size, Donna just wasn't able to hear me. My emotions from the day before were renewed as my home was lowered to the floor and Donna's foot began overtaking me again. It wasn't any easier the second day. In fact, with the previous day's memory still fresh, the sinking feeling in my gut as I experienced Donna's giant bare foot overtaking me was strong. It took a few steps for me to adjust to the crushing of my rib cage again. By the time Donna got into her car, I had relearned how to breathe. I was back in her left shoe, and with her foot slamming into the clutch pedal every few seconds, there was no way I was sleeping on this trip. I survived the trip to church and the walk in, but the mass itself was brutal. I was forced to endure a long period of kneeling during which all my blood went to my head, combining with the worsening smell of Donna's foot to make me feel dizzy and sick. Then came a some painful full weight standing where Donna didn't allow me the chance to breathe. The worst time turned out to be during the sermon when Donna was sitting. The sermon was exceptionally long for the assembly of church goers that morning. It was even longer for me. While they watched and listened to the priest talk about Jesus's teachings, I watched and felt Donna's big toe slide up and down my naked body as she continuously slid her foot in and out of her shoe. It started out innocently enough. Donna simply slid her foot out of her shoe. When she did, she felt me in her shoe. From my position, it seemed she was paying attention to the mass and had forgotten I was even there. When she felt me, she slid her big toe back up my body, then back down, then back up again. It didn't take long before my manhood reacted. It took even less time for Donna to feel it. When she did, she began giving it preferential treatment. As Donna's toe slid down my body, it made a heavy circular motion over my midsection, before it made its way down my legs. On its way back up, it did the same. Dozens of times Donna repeated the toe massage, while I lied bound in her shoe helplessly squirming from the relentless manipulation. I was quickly approaching an orgasm. Donna, probably from the level of my squirming, knew of my approaching climax and simply inserted her foot all the way into her shoe and applied pressure. The air quickly left my lungs, as did the blood from my entire groin area. Once Donna was satisfied that I was calmed down, she let up and began another grueling session of arousal. This cycle repeated itself over and over again until the long-winded father got tired of talking. By then, I was both physically and emotionally spent. I withstood another round of breath depriving standing before Donna was sitting again and the pursuit of her big toe on my manhood continued. This time, a different ending resulted. I became so aroused so quickly, that despite the fact that Donna had stopped the grinding on my midsection and was trying to smother the arousal out of me, I came. I shot a load all over her sole, and she was obviously not very happy about it. It was the first time in my life I experienced an orgasm while being, not only smothered, but crushed. I went from the throws of passion to the verge of unconsciousness in a second. My lungs burning like they were full of battery acid. I needed to refill my depleted blood stream with O2 but Donna decided to punish me further for cumming on her foot. She continued to apply the force on me until I actually passed out. As it turned out, I not only slept through the rest of mass and the drive home, I slept through the entire morning. When I finally woke up, I ached from head to toe. I slowly sat up and looked around. My head pounded. My chest still burned. I was sitting on a soft surface and I was still only five inches tall. "Are we finally awake?" came that deep booming voice I knew all too well. I spun around and saw the entire giant form of my wife. She was sitting on our bed and I was next to her. "I thought I killed you," she said. "You came in my shoe and I had no choice but to punish you. Are you alright?" I didn't attempt to answer. I shrugged my shoulders. What I wanted to do was ask her if she would make me big again. I still had a two week vacation to enjoy. Donna read my mind and spoke. "It seems I have some bad news for you Dear," she said softly. I wondered what else could go wrong. "It seems I won't be able to grow you back." I jumped to my feet and fell back down. The pain in my head was fierce. "I'm so sorry," Donna went on. "I can't grow you back. I don't have the power." Again I jumped up onto my feet. This time I stayed up, although it wasn't easy. Each time Donna moved, the earth under me quaked. "My boss Jill will have to do it, tomorrow." The thought of Donna's beautiful boss Jill seeing me in this position was down right embarrassing. Jill always looked down her nose at me like she was better than I was. I started yelling obscenities, but Donna simply raised her huge pretty hand and I quieted down. "I wouldn't overstep your bounds little fellow," she lectured. "I'm still not very happy about you getting your disgusting goo on my foot." I wanted desperately to tell her it was her own God damned fault, in church no less. What kind of sacrilege was that? I decided I really didn't want to go back in her shoe so I sat back down quietly and waited for whatever Donna was going to do with me next. "So what should we do now?" she asked. I just looked at her face. For years I had taken her good looks for granted. What was I thinking? "I really need to go food shopping," she said. "Tomorrow is Monday. If I don't go today, I won't be able to go until next Saturday." I was beginning to get scared again. "You eat so much," she went on. "We won't make it until next Saturday. Why don't you do the food shopping this week?" she asked. I knew she was toying with me, but to what end. I did not want to go back into her shoe so I sat there listening. "That's right you cant go," she said boldly. "You're only five inches tall. But we can go together." She reached over the bed and grabbed something off the floor. I prayed it wasn't her shoe. I had spent the good part of mass earlier praying it would end and Donna would release me. I found myself praying again. Sure enough, Donna dropped a shoe on the bed in front of me. I wanted to run but I held my ground. What would running accomplish? Donna then reached over the side of the bed and grabbed the other shoe. She dropped that one next to the first. This time I ran. What a mistake that was. Donna quickly reached out and snagged me. She wrapped her hand around me and lifted me up to that fat lower lip she had. "You just can't help but piss me off, can you?" I turned on the puppy dog eyes that worked earlier in our relationship. They obviously weren't working then. She threw me back on the bed. I bounced and came to rest between the two shoes. "Pick one," she demanded. "They both need to be fixed," I yelled to her. "Good choice," she answered. A long red nail then pushed me into the shoe on my right. Another one came from the opening and in a matter of ten seconds I was back under Donna's foot, this time the right one, where I remained the rest of the day. We went food shopping. Then we went back to the same mall we went to the day before. After that we went home where Donna decided to keep me where I was. Why? I guess I just felt too good for her to release me. It was horribly painful for me, but still I had to stay focused so I wasn't crushed or smothered to death. As the day went on, the abuse on my body and my mind was taking its toll. Finally, when it was bedtime, Donna removed the shoe. By that time I was running on fumes, smelly ones. I just wanted to go to sleep. I wasn't given the opportunity all afternoon to take a cat nap. Donna had seen to that. I barely remember being released and dragged out of the shoe. I hardly remember being dropped into the sink to relieve myself again and get a drink. I didn't remember falling asleep or where I was put to spend the night. I found out at six AM sharp. I was on Donna's night stand, so when the alarm went off, I was woken abruptly. Not only did it scare the living shit out of me, it sent me into a panic. My heart raced violently as my extremities began moving. Donna's finger entered the opening of the shoe probing for something. Her fingertip slid over my face roughly a few times pressing the back of my head into the velvet before it withdrew and found its target. Moments later the alarm was quiet. I lied awake, stilled by Donna's off target finger, for minutes waiting for her to arise. It was a new day. She had to let me go, at least I hoped so. My own eyes were re-closing when the blaring tone of the alarm went off again. This time, Donna didn't try to turn my face off. This time she hit the end of the shoe and sent it flying. By the time it hit the floor, The alarm was quiet again. Unfortunately the Velcro, holding me in place, held strong. The shoe came to rest on its side. I looked straight ahead out of the heart shaped opening and found myself staring into the void beneath our bed. Now what, I thought. I quickly found out. My eyes went out of focus as a giant object appeared just past the opening. Upon refocusing, I saw it was Donna's big toe. She had gotten out of bed and was standing with her foot pointed at me inside her shoe. Her big toe looked menacing. The blunt tip of it's nail looked like it could break me in half. I felt myself shuddering, thinking about spending any more time beneath that thing. Then it moved. Donna's big toe shot at my face with blinding speed. I flinched, banging the back of my head on the soft velvet. The tip of the toe the hit the opening so hard that it actually squeezed through it. The shoe jumped backward snapping my head, and all other parts of me not secured, forward. The toe entered the opening and came surprisingly close to my face. Then the backward motion stopped instantly, bringing any part of me that had flown forward, crashing back again into the sole of the shoe. Then for a brief instant I saw what I knew I'd never seen again. It lasted only a split second, but the remembrance would last a lifetime. The fat meat of Donna's big toe was wedged in the heart shaped opening. Not a bit of light shown around it, not even at the lower point of the heart. The inward point at the top of the heart dug unyieldingly into one side of the toe. Seeing Donna's big toe sticking in at me almost sent me into hysterics. It would have laughed had I been given more time. The next few seconds were ugly as Donna tried to free her big toe from the shoe. My internal organs move violently inside me as I was kicked to and fro. My extremities felt like they were leaving my torso. Through it, I was able to see the progress of Donna's big toe out of the shoe. It was slow. After the first few seconds, Donna's toe hadn't budged. Then she intensified her kicking and I no longer was able to follow the progress. I had to shut my eyes tightly so they stayed inside my head. After a few more seconds of extreme violence, it was over. Well, it was almost over. The worst of it was over. The jerking back and forth, and side to side, was finished. The soaring through the air wasn't, not for about three more seconds. At least I didn't have to close my eyes in preparation of my impending impact. They were already closed. The shoe hit the ground hard and bounced a few times, but it was actually anti-climatic compared to what had just transpired. I couldn't tell how far the shoe and I hurled until I opened my eyes and the stars cleared. I was in the bathroom. Actually, I was against the far corner of the bathroom, probably twenty five feet away from the bed. The shoe landed with the underside propped at a forty five degree angle between the wall and the floor. I was miraculously offered a view of the entire bathroom, including the part of the bedroom that I just entered the bathroom from. I looked through the darkness and saw movement. Donna was walking into the bathroom. At first I thought she was coming to retrieve her shoe and punish me some more for being there. As she got close, I saw she wasn't looking in my direction. It seamed I was safe for the time being. Perhaps I would even get the chance to see my giant wife nude. Finally I caught a potential break. Sure enough, donna entered the bathroom and turned on the light. She looked horrible. Donna never was a morning person, but she only ever looked this bad after she drank the night before. Donna obviously had her own little party with me no doubt under her foot as the main amusement. Then again, I had been in a dead sleep since she took me out of her shoe. I was beginning to wonder what else she did with me while she was drunk. Up until that point in time, the morning had progressed extremely quickly. I hadn't had much time to think. When I first awoke, after the alarm had nearly caused me to soil myself, I had thought I tasted a strong smell in my nose and my mouth. As I lied there waiting for my giantess to stir, I figured it had to be the taste of foot odor. I had been constantly sucking in Donna's foot sweat for two days now. I had dismissed it at that. Lying in the bathroom corner watching my hung-over wife, I wasn't so sure. It seemed like the only time Donna ever got horny was when she was drinking, which wasn't that often. As I watched her stand in front of the mirror brushing her teeth, I started recognizing the taste in my mouth. I was beginning to think my drunken wife had used me to pleasure herself. By the time she had put her tooth brush away, I was sure of it. I was lucky the stupid bitch didn't kill me. It all made sense. She kept me in her shoe because I was arousing her. With no alcohol in her system, it probably took the ice queen two days to get aroused enough to do something about. The alcohol she drank, lowered her inhibitions enough that she acted on her whim. Donna used me for sexual pleasure. At least at this size I was good for something. A scary thought entered my mind. What if she got used to the feeling and would keep me uncontrollably in her shoe forever, using me to satisfy her whenever her desires peaked. Nah. Once every two weeks was Donna's limit regardless of the stimulus. She was probably already tired of me. I'd be a free man as soon as she got herself together, or so I thought. I had temporarily forgotten that she wasn't able to grow me back. Maybe I just hadn't believed her. Regardless, I was feeling some hope as I watched my wife walk over to the shower and let her nightgown fall to the floor. I was in for a short lived treat. After two days of not being able to buy a break, I found myself in the perfect position to watch my giantess of a wife as she stepped out of her nightgown and turned on the water in the shower. From my tiny perspective, propped up in her shoe in the corner of the bathroom, she looked magnificent. Her long brown hair straggled its way over her shoulders and down half her back. Her breasts, still firm and round, stood proudly out before her. As she turned toward me and headed towards the toilet, I was amazed at how tight her stomach still was. The toilet was to my left, almost in the corner I was adjacent to and it pointed towards the wall just to my right. That meant that when Donna sat on the toilet to pee, I got a view right between her thighs all the way to my promised land. Her thighs were strong and muscular. I could only dream what they'd feel like squeezing me to oblivion. I doubted I'd find out. I looked a little farther and saw her furry mound. I couldn't see anything more than Donna's pubic hair, but oh how I could imagine the sight of her giant pussy lips opening up to swallow me into her juicy slit. I still wasn't sure I hadn't already met it while I was asleep, too exhausted to reap the rewards my stay in Donna's shoe offered me. After peeing, Donna wiped herself and walked across the room to the sink, where I was offered a view of her luscious ass. Firm and round, Donna's bottom was perfect. I watched it shake from side to side as Donna brushed her teeth. Again I imagined what it would be like to be buried between her cheeks. God knows I had buried my face into Donna's butt enough times not knowing I'd ever contemplate doing it with my entire body. After brushing her teeth, Donna offered me another glimpse of her as she walked back to the shower and stepped inside. She pulled the shower curtain and my show was over, at least temporarily. I was left to wait for another chance to see her giant naked body and ponder what was in store for me next. Donna acted like she didn't even remember I was in her shoe. If she didn't, she'd remember as soon as the soaking shower water cracked the outer shell of her hangover. Another thought struck me as I lied bound to the inside of my pretty wife's shoe. It was a thought that left me feeling extremely lonely. Ever since I've been married to Donna, she blamed me for her hangovers. She wasn't much of a drinker. When she did drink, it was from my prodding, and I usually coaxed her into drinking more than she could handle. As I lied in wait for Donna's long and soothing shower to end, I became more and more convinced that Donna did remember where I was. By the time the sound of the water hitting the fiberglass tub ended, I was sure Donna knew where I was. She undoubtedly was blaming me for her hang-over and was planning to wear me again. I had spent the last two days praying time would speed up so my stay in Donna's shoe would end quicker. I spent the time it took Donna to dress herself and put on her make-up, praying time would roll to a stop. I wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. I did not want another day of suffering under my wife's foot to begin, but it did. Donna never even looked at me. When she was ready to leave for work, she simply strode into the room rolled her shoe over and planted the ball of her foot on my sore chest and the base of her big toe on my face. After that it was off to work we go. Donna had said she needed the help of her boss Jill to restore me to my normal size. She also said she'd have Jill do it Monday. It was Monday and, though I desperately wanted out of this hell, I was nervous about Jill getting a chance at me. There was no telling what that nasty bitch would do. Even though I was on my third day of being tortured by Donna, I had to hold firm in the belief that she would see to it that Jill restored my size without taking advantage of my predicament. After all, Donna didn't really know I was suffering. She had no idea the cavities I had stupidly carved were too small. I guess it was around lunchtime when Donna finally sat down. I was amazed at how much walking around she did on a Monday morning. When she did sit down she removed her foot from the shoe. I quickly looked out the heart shaped opening to see her face and to see if she was looking down at me. All I saw was the underside of a desk. I waited for the shoe to elevate. I was hoping it was the time for my release. It wasn't. I waited a few seconds, but nothing happened. I could hear Donna conferring with another woman, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. I had a good and bad feeling the second voice belonged to Jill. I didn't know what was going on but I was dying from the suspense. Finally the shoe moved. It didn't rise like I expected. It shook slightly. It was a movement I had gotten to know all too well. My heart sank. Donna was reinserting her foot. Once again, I looked past my naked tiny body at the toes entering the shoe. This time the feeling was worst than before, although I didn't think a worse panic was possible. This time the foot entering the shoe was not the foot of my loving wife. This foot took its good old time overtaking me. The owner of this foot wanted me and herself to experience the fear and delight fully. I screamed long and not loud. I knew it would do no good. I couldn't control myself. For two days I was able to stay alive in my wife's shoe only because it was my wife's foot I was sharing the space with. I honestly didn't think I had the will to remain alive having to fight the rib crushing pain in my chest and pulverizing wear on my face knowing it was the disgusting smelly foot of another woman. I wrote myself off for dead. I didn't die. I survived the rest of the work day. Evidently I had more will to live than I ever gave myself credit for. Or maybe it was the fact that deep down I knew I was in the final stretch of my under-foot mile. Sure I spent the afternoon repulsed, forcing my diaphragm to force my lungs to inhale fowl air only to have it pushed right out again over and over an infinite amount of times. But it wasn't infinite. There is no end to infinity. There would sooner or later be an end to my suffering. Shortly before the end came, at precisely infinity minus one, The owner of the foot, undoubtedly and disgustingly Jill, decided to have a little fun with my manhood. She decided to see if she could arouse me with her big toe into an orgasm. Unlike Donna, Jill didn't bring me to the point of no return rapidly then smother the life out of me. Jill took her good old time bringing me up. Jill must have had a ton of work on her desk because she toyed with my manhood for about two hours. Somehow I was getting good at keeping track of the time. Despite being abused, already spent, and totally grossed out, I was slowly worked to the point of eruption. I tried with every bit of wilpower I could muster to control myself, but in the end I had no chance. I exploded. I don't think much came out, but the amount didn't matter. I had cum under another woman's foot. I was thoroughly humiliated and was at my wits end, but I knew my time for freedom had come. Shortly after my orgasm, Jill slid her foot out of the shoe that days ago sat on my work bench. The shoe rose. An ugly, only in my eyes, finger pulled the Velcro free. And I fell out of the shoe. "Your little pervert came on my foot," said Jill glaring down at me. Her evil eyes seemed to burn right through me. "He's had enough," came a voice from behind me. I recognized my wife's voice and turned. There she stood in all her elegance. I wanted to run towards her, away from the beast, but I knew I still needed the beast. She alone could make me big. I turned back toward Jill and the embarrassment she bestowed on me. Her stare intensified. Her eyes turned into fire. That fire reached out and grabbed my soul. It enveloped my mind, my heart, my entire body. The last thing I remember was feeling the life force of my wife, protecting me from the devil who had a hold of me. It's Saturday morning. I still have a week of vacation left and I'm in heaven. This is turning out to be the best vacation ever. Evil Jill had restored my size. Donna had taken me home, fed me, and nursingly put me to bed. On Tuesday morning I woke to an empty house and ate a hearty breakfast. Donna was at work. I spent all day reliving my experience in Donna's shoe. I weighed the good feeling of Donna's soft foot against the bad of my pain and suffering. Had the shoes been made right, the bad would not have been any where near where it was. In fact, in may not have been bad at all. By the time it was bedtime, I had convinced myself that had I been more careful, and had my stay been for only a few seconds, I might have even enjoyed myself a little . I went to sleep Tuesday night before Donna came home. Wednesday morning I awoke and again Donna had already left for work. As usual, her stupid job had her putting in unreasonablre hours. It was just as well. I wouldn't know what to say to her anyway. My body felt somewhat better, but my head was still a mess. I simply could not clear my mind of the conflicting emotions that I had experienced. I knew it was time I climbed back onto the saddle. I jumped out of bed and went straight into her closet to look for the shoes I had spent days suffering inside. At first I didn't see them. I feared I was too late. I didn't want the death of Donna's first victim on my conscious. I was about to give up when I spotted the open toes staring down at me like dark hollow eyes from up on the shelf. Donna hadn't put them with her multitude of ordinary shoes. She had them with her upper echelon of sweaters and sweat pants. I grabbed the shoes, ran down to my work bench, and did what I should have done in the first place. I made the chest cavity deeper. I made a small cavity for the back of the head. I didn't want to make it too deep. The face still needed to be at the mercy of the toes. I did it for the neck. The neck didn't have to be bent back so drastically. I was working from experience. When I finished, I re-glued the velvet and checked the Velcro. I returned the shoes to the shelf in our closet and ate another good breakfast. A small weight was off my shoulders. I spent the rest of Wednesday wondering what a stay in one of the shoes would be like now. That evening, Donna brought home her first patient. The pathetic little thing carried on horribly as Donna secured her in her left shoe. I also heard the woman's cries as Donna inserted her foot and took the first few steps. They didn't sound like screams of physical pain They sounded like screams of fear and humiliation. I was able to hear the cries of the woman because I was in tune to them. I had been in the same position. I really don't thing Donna ever heard her, or my, screams of mercy. Donna walked around the room then sat on the bed. She pulled her foot out of the shoe and looked in at her prisoner. "She doesn't feel as good as you did Dear," she said to me . I only smiled. I never did tell her I had to fix the shoes. Donna then put the shoe on the night table and covered her little almost-criminal like she had covered me each night. "Let's have a romantic dinner," she said to me softly. I saw a gleam in her eyes, but I was really staring at her lips. "Yes dear," I answered, and I wasn't being sarcastic. I followed her to the kitchen. I sat at the kitchen table admiring her while she made us a special dinner. From her hair to her feet, she was a work of art. What a lucky man I was. We both enjoyed our meal together as did we enjoy the sex afterward. We were like a young couple again, falling in love for the first time with the crisp sweet smell of spring in the air. I told her how wrong I had been and what a jerk I was for not wanting to spend my vacation with her. That's when she told me that we could spend the rest of my time off together. At first I wasn't too sure, but as I lied in bed with Donna's face on my chest, her idea began making more sense. I've been enjoying myself for two full days now and I have eight more days of it left. I've never felt better. My mind is clear. My body is rested, and I have no work to do at all. I am truly in heaven. This is definitely the best vacation any man ever had. I just wish the woman in Donna's other shoe would carry on a little less loudly.