The Draftee By Waterman    Chapter 1   Quinn drove down the lane where he lived in a foul mood

The Draftee By Waterman    Chapter 1   Quinn drove down the lane where he lived in a foul mood

The Draftee

By Waterman

Chapter 1

Quinn drove down the lane where he lived in a foul mood. He felt with an inner

sense that something was wrong at his house. He and his wife had rented the run

down place almost nine months ago, and now he was getting nervous. Quinn and

Jeanne usually moved every six months to avoid detection from the State

authorities, and always paid the rent in cash to stay hidden. Out of sight, out

of mind, and leave no paper trail. The problem was, his wife liked it here in

Southern California, and she was tired of packing up and moving. He was a

skilled artist, and his work was very well recieved under his false identity in

the Los Angeles area. They were making a somewhat decent living, and the weather

was nice. Quinn shivered when he thought about what could happen to his

comfortable life if the authorities ever found him.

When he pulled into the driveway he noticed an unfamiliar vehicle parked on the

street. 'That's odd,' he thought as he parked his truck. 'Never seen that car

around here before.' Quinn thought about driving away, but he did not want to

leave his wife. Jeanne had stuck by him through thick and thin in his quest to

avoid the State draft, and had sacrificed alot. When he walked into his house he

knew that his world was going to change. Sitting on his sofa in the living room

were two of the meanest looking women he had laid eyes on in quite some time,

and they were going over some documents with his wife. Sitting across from

Jeanne was a neighbor lady that Quinn had never liked or trusted. Amanda

something or other was telling his poor wife that everything would work out for

the best. Quinn suspected that the lady was gay, and that she had the hots for

Jeanne. Amanda was a looker, though, with long legs that stretched out to hell

and back, blue eyes, and pretty long blond hair. She was a class A bitch, and

always seemed to have a chip on her shoulder about men, Quinn especially. She

always wore exotic high heeled shoes, and Quinn suspected that she might be a

user of small men. When he walked into the room everyone stopped speaking.

The two mean looking women smiled and stared at him like they were sizing him

up. His wife started crying and babbling on hysterically. 'Oh Quinn, I'm so

sorry!' she blurted. 'Amanda talked me into calling the Draft Board about you!

Christ, Quinn, I like it here, and I'm sick of moving all of the time! These two

ladies are here to take you to the induction center. I've shown them the illegal

bioscan on you, and they say that it is authentic. Your scan is really rare, and

I can make a decent monthly income from your service. Instead of selling you, I

chose to sign you up for a career term, that way we can at least be together for

a month each year!' Quinn just stood there in shock. He had been committed to

the State in-service reduction program for the next four years. 'God Damn

Jeanne, what have you done!?' he screamed. 'I'll be shipped off to some God

forsaken shoe salon and you'll never hear from me again! You've seen the

underground reports! I'll be reduced and sold off to some Queen of Sheeba as a

shoe ornament or foot toy!' Jeanne started crying and Amanda stepped in.

'Christ, Quinn, look at how she is living! You guys exist on a next to nothing

from month to month. At least this way Jeanne can put her roots down and have a

normal life. And as far as I am concerned, it will do you good to serve the

women of this state. Hell, I might rent you for a spell!' she hissed. Quinn

reached out to grab the bitch and was stopped by the barrel of a gun.

'That's enough Mr. Conlon!' said one of the mean looking women. 'Time to go now.

Mrs. Conlon, the paperwork is all in order. Your husband will be taken to the

in-service induction center in Los Angeles. After his physical, he will spend a

short period of time in the 'boot camp' at the facility. Call us on Monday to

find out where his posting is. From the looks of this Bioscan he will most

likely be sent to a rental facility in the Beverly Hills area, or maybe San

Francisco. Call that number on my card. I'll keep you posted on his whereabouts

and status.' Quinn was handcuffed and led out to the sedan parked on the street

in front of the house. He was placed into the back seat of the car and locked

in. He stared out the window and saw Amanda hugging his wife in the doorway. 'It

won't take long for that witch to convince my wife to sell me to the service' he

mused. 'Then she'll be done with me and that bitch Amanda will have Jeanne all

to herself.' Quinn stared down at the floor of the car. The two women in the

front said nothing. After what seemed like an eternity they arrived at the huge

induction center in the heart of Los Angeles.

Quinn was escorted into the massive building in chains and at gunpoint. Once

inside he was led to a holding cell while his paper work was processed. A tall

hispanic woman stood guard by the door, and glanced his way every few minutes.

She smiled at Quinn with a mischievious grin, and tapped the toe of her heeled

shoe on the floor in a sporadic rhythm. After awhile, Quinns captors returned

with a blond woman dressed in a white lab coat. 'Time for your induction pysical

conscript!' barked the doctor. Quinn was placed into a machine resembling an MRI

device, and after about thirty minutes he was removed from the contraption. The

woman in the lab coat chatted with his handlers. 'Damn, Shannon, this guy's

pegged the chart. He is a rare one! Call Sylvia at processing, and tell her to

schedule a reduction implant right away. After he goes through training I

suspect that the director will send him to Jenny Choo's salon in Beverly Hills

immediately. They have a hell of a demand for this type of conscript down there.

Shit, I was hoping to keep him here for a little while. I always like to break

the new strong one's in myself!' laughed the doctor.

When he woke up Quinn noticed that he was in almost total darkness. His neck was

sore on the backside, and upon inspection he felt a small cut with stitches.

'Must be the reduction chip' he thought. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and

he noticed other men in the cell. Suddenly the lights went on and a woman's

voice started booming at the occupants. Quinn immediately noticed that he was

inside a small cage. The woman who was screaming at them opened the top of the

container and began to flash a beam of light over the little men. A beep sounded

when the beam crossed over Quinn, and he was immediately removed from the cage.

'You must be the special little worm. Welcome to boot camp, and I mean BOOT CAMP

you little shit!' she laughed. Another woman removed the cage holding the other

men. 'Those are convicts,' she stated to Quinn mater of factly. 'They don't get

any preparation. Some are murderers, some are rapists, and some are just there

because of the system. The majority of them will never survive, especially the

rapists. In fact, a little man accused of raping a woman will die a most

gruesome death. Those little conscipts are considered throwaways to the State,

and they are being shipped out to the salon as we speak. You, my special little

worm, will get two days of special training before you are turned over to the

hungry hoards of foot slave fetishists out in Beverly Hills. After Melissa and I

are done with you, you should be prepared to survive any situation that your

female masters will dish out to you! You will eat dirt, drink foot sweat, and

live in total darkness in a shoe for the next forty eight hours, whether you

like it or not! My advice to you is this - keep your sanity and you will

survive. Please every master that you serve. You will be in the State's

in-shoe-service for the next four years, and you will be expected to please

every woman that rents you. That could be four women or two hundred and eight -

the minimum rental period is one week, the maximum is one year - it all depends

on how much a girl wants to pay! So, let's get started preparing you for your

service to the State! And, by the way, you no longer have an identity. From now

on you are only known as a foot slave!' Both the drill instructor and her

assistant laughed at Quinn. Without fanfare the woman removed her black high

heeled pump from her right foot and dropped the three inch conscript into the

shoe.

Quinn landed on his face in the smelly pump. The insole was moist with the sweat

from the woman's foot, and Quinn immediately slid face first down to the toe

section of the shoe. He quickly raised his head and glanced around at his

surroundings. It was apparent that this shoe had been worn by the drill

instructor for some time. Even in the dim light Quinn could make out the

extrmely visable imprint of the ball of the womans foot and toes on the insole.

He also noticed that other men had spent time in the shoe as well. The clear

image of a body was indented into the sole of the pump, with what appeared to be

a head of a man positioned under the second toe. The rest of the body

indentation appeared to extend up the insole, positioned under the ball of the

womans foot. Quinn heard the woman laugh, and as he rolled over on his back an

enormous foot began its entrance into the shoe. In the blink of an eye his

vision went black as five huge toes covered his face and engulfed his new

domain, pinning Quinn mercilessly in the same position as the shoe's other

former occupants. 'Enjoy yourself, foot slave. In four hours it will be time for

your first mess hall dinner!'

After what seemed like an eternity the drill instructor removed her foot from

the shoe. Quinn's world went from suffocating stench and darkness to violently

bright light. He blinked his eyes and sucked in the fresh air. 'Time for some

chow, foot slave. Crawl on out of your vacation home and get some dinner while

it's still warm,' barked the woman. Quinn made his way up the sweaty insole to

the heal section of the womans shoe. His mouth tasted salty from the moisture

that made its way from the toes of the woman onto his tongue. In all his life

Quinn had never been more miserable. The drill instructor plucked him out of the

pump and proceeded to place him at the feet of the girl named Melissa. She was

wearing an old worn pair of Keds sneakers on her feet, and the girl smiled

devilishly at the little man. 'Melissa here has prepared a great dinner for you

foot slave. Inside those sneakers of hers are the dirtiest feet you will ever

see this side of the Rockies. When she takes off those shoes, I want you to lick

them sparkling clean, and I mean CRYSTAL CLEAN! Bottom of the foot, between the

toes, even under each toenail!! When you are done with both of them, I'll be

back to let you work on mine. But I like my slaves to clean my feet while they

are IN my shoes. Melissa and I will be enjoying some wine while you work. Now

get busy, and enjoy your dinner!' The girl popped her sneaker off and wiggled

her toes in Quinn's face. He was appalled at the sight and the smell. 'You best

get started or you'll pay hell with Cassie, ' she hissed, 'and start with my

toes!' Quinn did as he was told, and began the miserable task of licking between

the girls dirty, sweaty digits. Soon his mouth was encrusted with filth and

grime. His tongue was raw, and the smell was disgusting. The girl read a

magazine and drank wine while he toiled, and glanced at him to check his

progress. When he was finished with the first foot she removed the sneaker from

the other one and commanded him to get busy. Quinn gagged and coughed, and the

girl angrily scolded him. 'Don't spit anything out, or I'll make you do it all

over again, worm!' When he finally finished his task the drill instructor

entered the room. 'Looks like he did an adequate job, Melissa. Now its time to

clean my feet.' The woman removed her foot from the pump, picked up Quinn, and

dropped him inside. 'I didn't get to spend as much time as Melissa preparing

your meal, but they are close. You don't get to leave my shoe until my foot is

sparkling.' Without another word the drill instructor slid her filthy foot into

the high heel. 'Let's walk down to that little restaurant on the corner,

Melissa, and get us something to eat. Watching the foot worm devour his dinner

has made me hungry!' The women laughed, closed the door to the facility, and

casually walked to the restaurant. Quinn shuddered, and began his miserable

task. As he licked the foot pressed against his face he started to think of his

wife and her friend Amanda, and wondered if he would ever see them again.

Quinn spent the next two days in total hell. The two boot camp instructors were

ruthless, and he never got one break from their contant shoe and foot training.

Then, miracuously, at the end of the two day session they quit torturing him.

The assistant named Melissa cleaned and bathed him quite tenderly, and the older

woman brought him plenty of food and water. 'Eat as much as you can, foot slave.

And make sure you drink plenty of water and get some rest. When you start your

service tomorrow, you'll never know when your next meal will be,' the drill

instructor stated matter of factly. They wished him good luck, and packed him

into a shipping cage with twenty other men. Their next destination was a shoe

salon in Beverly Hills owned by a Chinese woman named Jenny Choo.

Quinn stared out of the cage that contained him and looked around the lavish

surroundings in the salon. There were lush couches strategically located all

around the facility, and a plush wet bar and snack facility was against the wall

to his left. The patrons of the establishment could lounge, eat and drink as

long as they wished, and try on as many exotic shoes as they pleased. Also, if

the women wished to purchase or rent a little man to compliment their shoe

purchase, Jenny Choo provided an assortment of these to choose from as well. He

was amazed at the casuallness of it all. A dark haired woman dressed to the hilt

stood in front of a display of little men to the front of Quinn, and lazily

gazed at the selection of three inch slaves while she sipped on a glass of

champagne. 'I'll take that blond one there,' she said to the sales girl. The

woman sat down on a couch and removed her right shoe, and without a second

thought placed the lizard skinned high heel on the floor next to her. When the

sales woman came over with the screaming little man in her hand, the woman just

pointed with a finger to the inside of the pump. The girl dropped the little man

in the shoe, and the dark haired woman casually slipped her foot back in on top

of the slave. She sipped slowly on her drink and chatted aimlessly with the

sales attendant about the hot weather, while adjusting the little captive inside

with the tap of her foot on the floor. When she finished her drink she stood,

thanked the sales woman, and slowly strolled out of the salon. 'Put it on my

bill Suzi, if you would. I'll be back in a couple of days once this one wears

out. Ta Ta!' she sang. Quinn started to get nervous.

'You've got to keep your wits about you, man, if you plan on surviving this

nightmare.' spoke a voice from the corner of the cage. Quinn, in all of the

excitement, failed to notice the man sitting in the corner of his containment

cell. The guy looked white, almost like an albino, and he had extremely blond

hair. He looked out of the cage like Quinn at the events unfolding before them.

Except he had a strange look in his eye, like a thousand mile stare. Immediately

Quinn sensed that this man was a seasoned foot slave. 'How long have you been

here?' asked Quinn nervously. 'You mean in this cage, or in the service?' the

man spoke softly. 'Well, I guess both.' replied Quinn. 'I've been in this cage

since this morning. I've been on R and R for two weeks, and after I was resized

I was placed in here, just before you were.' The man stared out of the cage at a

teenage girl adjusting the head of a little man between her toes as he spoke.

Quinn followed his gaze and cringed in fear. The stranger continued, still

watching the girl as she giggled in delight. 'I've been in the service for two

years. Spent my first year in a Jenny Choo salon in Tokyo, and another year at

one in Moscow. Came back to the states two weeks ago for R and R, and here I am.

The name is Davis.'

Quinn extended his hand to shake it, but the man did not respond. Nervously,

Quinn withdrew the gesture and stated his name. 'Well Quinn, listen up. If you

haven't noticed, all the women shopping in this store keep passing us by. We

must not be available for rent, which means somebody is coming to pick us up.

You and I are classified as prime 1A status, so we are extremely durable,

strong, and worth alot of money as rentals. This works to our advantage, so our

chances of survival are excellent. The state doesn't like losing prime 1A

service personnel, and Jenny Choo doesn't like losing money. The problem is,

we'll change shoes quite alot, and each woman is different. Some are mean, some

are downright cruel, and some are really nice. You have to read each master, and

respond to what she likes. Those poor shits down in that cage at the end of the

wall, those are 4F class. Throwaways. Convicts, felons, and poor soles that just

were in the wrong place at the wrong time. The state doesn't care what happens

to them, so they are sold as is. All the women love it, and if you haven't

noticed they move quite a bit. A woman can dispose of one however she wants, as

long as it's not in public. In Japan they were used for games and parties.

You'll see what I mean in due time.' The girl wearing the little man as a toe

strap for her sandal walked by and tapped on the cage holding Quinn and Davis.

She stopped and looked at each of them hungrily. 'How much for the two of

these?' she snapped to the sales woman. 'They are rental slaves, not for sale.'

replied the clerk. The young girl smiled at them and said 'Reserve them for me,

as soon as they are available. Put it on my mother's account!' 'For how long,

Ms. Alexa?' asked the attendant. 'As long as I can. I like having living toe

straps for my sandals, not dying ones. This shit I've got now won't last a week!

Call me as soon as they are ready, and fit them in those nice platforms that I

like.' The perky girl winked at Quinn and blew them both a kiss. 'See you in a

couple of weeks, boys, and plan on having some fun!' She walked out of the

store, and Quinn couldn't help but notice the screaming little man trapped

between her toes. Davis watched her as she walked out as well, and commented.

'Rich little bitch, those are the worst. She probably won't feed us much, so try

to load up on an as many calories as you can for the next couple of weeks.

Otherwise, we'll have to live off of the land, and trust me, that is not fun.'

Quinn looked at the man in awe, and wondered what he had been through. He

thanked his lucky stars that he had Davis as a partner. Four years, Jesus what a

long time. Quinn started thinking of his wife when Davis spoke again. 'Hey

Quinn, I've been thinking about our size. Judging from the looks of that guy

working as a toe strap, we must be about six or seven inches tall. I think that

whoever is renting us must be pretty big, and that we're going to be used at the

start as a sandal. If my hunch is right, our bodies will be the top section of

the shoe, with our heads as toe straps. Remember to keep licking the area in

front of your face, as disgusting as it may sound. Trust me, you'll get used to

it. It will please the woman, and keep your face from getting rubbed raw. Pace

it so you can keep it up throughout the day without wearing yourself out. When

she lets us out of the shoe, we can figure out what she has planned next, ok?'

Quinn gave Davis a nervous grin, and said that he'd do his best.

For the next couple of hours, the men remained silent, awaiting their new

master. Dozens of women walked by their cage laughing and pointing at the men. A

famous newscaster for a local television station strolled by with a sales clerk,

and talked the girl into letting one of the men out to give her a foot massage.

Quinn was extracted from the cell and forced to comply with the womans wishes in

front of a crowd of fans. He got on his hands and knees in front of her open

toed sandals and began to kiss her feet. The woman flexed her foot in the air,

and made Quinn lie on his back and lick the bottom of her toes. The crowd

cheered, and the woman continued to humiliate the little man. 'Now worship

between them, my little wash cloth!' she bellowed. After about ten minutes the

woman tired of the game and Quinn was placed back into the cage. He spat in the

corner of the cell, trying to get the musty taste of the womans toes out of his

mouth. 'You might as well get used to it, Quinn. And don't ever do that in front

of a master, or you will pay holy hell! Just pretend that you like it,' was all

he said. Quinn wasn't sure that he could ever like the taste or smell of a

womans foot. Davis was giving his thousand yard stare at the lobby when he

muttered 'looks like it might be show time, buddy!' Quinn followed his gaze to

an enormous African American woman walking with a purpose through the door of

the salon.

Katherine Tate was indeed an enormous woman, but by no means was she considered

fat. Standing at six feet, she resembled a professional body builder or

wrestler. In her extreme high heels she looked every bit of six feet six, and

could pass for a model with her looks. And she was extremely beautiful to look

at. Wearing preppy glasses and long hair, she was elegant in her sharp business

attire. As a trial judge, she was feared by many, especially guilty men. In

close circles she was known as Katherine 'The Crusher' Tate. She had just come

from work to pick up a few items that she had ordered from the Jenny Choo salon

the day before. 'Katherine, how are you!' greeted the store manager. 'We've got

your order ready, all we need to do is fit your shoes.' The two women walked

over to the cell containing the two rental slaves, and Katherine stared down at

her new men. Quinn trembled in fear, and was afraid to look up. 'That one little

lovely looks scared, Tamara. Is he new?' asked the judge. 'Oh yes, he is fresh

from the induction center. He'll be fun to break in, don't you think?' chimed

the store manager. 'I'm looking forward to breaking in more than just him!' she

laughed. 'How about those felons?' she asked. 'The four that you requested are

already fed and boxed up.' Katherine had plans for these four little men, and it

wasn't going to be fun for them. 'Good' was all she said. 'Let's get these two

little lovelies fitted to my feet. I need a good rub between my toes!' Both

women looked at the two men in the cage and laughed. Quinn almost passed out

from fear as the giant black woman grabbed him around the waist with her huge

hand. She held him up to her pretty face and spoke softly to him. 'Don't worry

slave, you'll only be in my shoe for two weeks.' Then in a mean voice she hissed

'but if you piss me off I'll crush you like a worm, so do as I say!' Katherine

laughed as the little man cried in terror, and then handed him over to the store

manager to be fitted to her foot.

Quinn was strapped onto her massive foot first. Just as Davis had predicted, the

men were going to be the top section of a pair of high heeled sandals. Quinn was

placed face down on the top of the womans foot, and each wrist was chained into

place to a strap connected to the lower part of each side of the shoe. This

allowed the slaves arms to act as the straps for the front of the foot. His head

was then fastened to a small leather thong connected to the bottom portion of

the insole, which pulled Quinns face snuggly down into the crevice between the

womans big and second digit, creating a nice toe strap. Finally, his ankles were

fastened neatly to another leather strap which ran around and behind the womans

heel, thus completeing the sandal. 'Tighten the strap in the back, Tamara. I

want his face snug between my toes.' Quinn's body was stretched as tight as a

piano wire. His face rubbed up and down the flesh between the toes as the woman

moved her foot, and Quinn remembered the advice Davis had given him. He slowly

started to lick the area with his tongue in disqust, and immediately his face

began to slide up and down a little smoother. The womans foot had been encased

in a leather shoe all day, and the taste and smell between her toes was very

salty and musty. It reminded Quinn of the taste of vinegar. 'Ah, my little one,

that feels good. Keep it up and I'll give you something to eat for dinner later,

that is if your hungry!' Davis was fitted to her other foot in the same fashion.

Katherine walked around in front of a mirror admiring her new purchase. Both men

groaned as her feet pulled against the chains holding them in place. She flexed

her toes up as high as she could, and laughed as their little heads disappeared

between them. 'I love the feel of new sandals on my tired feet, Tamara. I think

I'll walk home from here instead of taking the taxi! I'll see you in a couple of

weeks!' Quinn groaned louder as the woman began her walk down the hot summer

sidewalk.

After what seemed like an eternity to the two little men, the judge finally

arrived at her apartment. When she entered her living room she removed the two

sandals from her sweaty feet, and set them by a sofa. Both of the little men

gave out a sigh of relief as their bodies relaxed from the strain of the chains

and straps. The woman set the box containing the other four little slaves on a

table. She then went into her bedroom to change into her workout attire. Quinn

and Davis listened intently as she walked back into the room cheerfully humming

a tune. She opened the box full of little men and quickly selected two victims,

which she placed immediately into her workout shoes. Quinn heard the men scream

in fear as she inserted her bare feet into the sneakers. Katherine then walked

over to her stairmaster and proceeded to workout for the next thirty minutes,

slowly crushing the little convicts in the process under her smelly feet. When

she was finished, she removed her sneakers, went into the bathroom, and

proceeded to dump the crumpled little bodies into the toilet. Quinn moved his

head as best as he could to see what the giantess was doing. As he did he saw

the little men tumble out of the shoes into the bowl. The woman flushed the

toilet, came back into the room, and proceeded to pluck the other two

unfortunates from the box. After placing these into her sneakers, she left the

apartment to go for a jog. When she returned, she again went into the bathroom

to dispose of the other broken men in the same fashion. She then sat on the sofa

and removed Quinn and Davis from the constraints of the sandals. Once free, she

set the two little men down on the coffee table and got them some water and

food. She then started to talk to the two rental slaves. 'Those four men were

scum. Two of them were convicted for murdering an old lady for the sixty dollars

she had in her purse. The other two raped and tortured a little girl. They got

what they deserved, and I don't have any remorse for their loss. In my business,

I act as a judge, and at times as an executioner as well. But only with the ones

who truly are guilty, and the only thing that you two are guilty of is being

men, so I won't be hard on you. But I do like having my feet pampered, so when

you finish with your meal I expect a good foot massage!' She smiled, and Davis

and Quinn did as they were told. For the next two weeks they spent their time as

part-time sandals and full time foot massuers. The judge turned out to be a kind

woman, and had rented the two only to wear in her court as an intimidating show

piece for defendents to see.

The two little men were returned promptly after their two week term with the

African American Judge. When the woman removed them from her shoes Quinn noticed

a young blond haired girl talking angrily with a sales attendent. The rich

little teenager held true to her promise of renting the two men, and was waiting

with her mother for the return of the conscripts. The judge returned the two

slaves to the clerk, and immediately the young girl started in with a rage. 'I

expected to have these little worms fitted into a pair of platform shoes when I

got here. You're late!' she screamed. The tall black woman just stared at her

and said in a calm voice, 'If you read the rental contract, you would probably

notice that I am right on time. And, these little slaves are always allowed

twenty four hours to rest from an assignment. So, I suggest that you come back

here in the morning to pick them up. Otherwise, take the matter up with Tamara,

not me.' With that the judge left. The young girl started in on the store

manager. 'I want these slaves in my shoes, and I want them in there now!

Otherwise I'll own this store when my family attorney gets through with you.'

Tamara decided to appease the girl, and waiver the twenty-four hour resting

clause for the slaves. After all, the judge usually took pretty good care of

rental men. 'All right,' she said, 'give me about thirty minutes. That will

allow me enough time to sanitize their bodies, resize them, and fit them into

your shoes.' The girl remained impatient, and said 'skip their cleaning, they

will smell like my feet in short order. All I care about is that they fit under

my toes! I expect that we will get some extra compensation for this

inconvenience.' The store manager just sighed, and to make the rich girl and her

mother happy, she gave them two throwaway slaves free of charge. The girl's

mother snatched two poor conscripts from a cage, removed her shoes, and dropped

the two unfortunates roughly inside. The teenager just walked around the room

barefooted and mad. When she received her new platforms she immediately took out

her anger on her new slaves.

Quinn and his partner were now human toe straps. They were fitted into a

beautiful pair of platform sandals, the kind with a clear wedge sole on the

front section of the shoe, and a clear five inch spike heel. Their bodies were

positioned in the front through a false chamber in the wedge under the ball of

the foot, accessed by a sliding trap door on the side of the shoe. There was a

small hole bored through the insole that allowed the head, neck and part of the

shoulders of the slave to extend between the big and second toe of the owner of

the platform. A strap was tightly fastened around the mans neck, and was

securely connected to a wide leather band that held the front of the foot to the

sole of the sandal. The design allowed the mans head to sit firmly on the top of

the two toes of the owner, showing off his hair and facial features. The slaves

feet slid into two clamps molded into the floor of the compartment, allowing the

mans body to remain firmly connected to the shoe while the woman's toes pulled

up against his neck, head and strap as she walked. The lower portion of the

men's bodies could be seen as well through the clear plastic, allowing for a

more stylish look. As an added feature, a little man could also be inserted into

the clear heel for the woman's viewing pleasure. It was an extremely

uncomfortable position to be in for the slaves, and only durable little men were

recommended for the shoes. The teenage girl, Alexa, loved them. She slipped the

platforms on, and walked around in front of a mirror admiring the shoes. 'Oh

mom, I love them! They fit just perfect, and their little heads look so cute

snuggled between my toes! What do you think?' Alexa's mother just grinned. 'They

look wonderful, dear, but I think you need these little throwaways in the heels.

Here, let's put them in. You'll look like a real man killer tonight with these

shoes at your party!' The mother removed the little men from her high heels, and

the sales attendant slipped them inside the clear platic compartments. The heel

slots were cramped, and the little men grimaced in pain as they were squeezed

in. There were only a few breathing holes located at the top, and if the girl

stood stationary for a long period of time the men would suffocate while the

heel of her foot plugged the holes. Alexa giggled with exitement. 'I wonder how

long those little shits in the heels will last!' she purred. 'Probably not too

long,' laughed her mother. 'Let's buy a few more, just to have some extras for

tonight.'

Quinn struggled to keep his sanity. His whole body reeled in pain as the girl

walked out of the salon. When the mother paid the bill, he overheard her

conversation with the clerk. It was apparent that he and Davis would spend the

next five and a half months in-service to this bitchy teenager. As the woman

signed for her purchase, the clerk handed the mother a device that looked like a

TV tuner. 'This is the size adjustment control device, just in case you want to

change the configuration of your rentals. Its programed to be used ten times,

and after that they revert back to the standard three inches. The range is from

one inch to ten, which fits most womens needs. If you desire their full size,

call us, and for an additional fee we can remote program the setting for you.'

The mother thanked the clerk, and walked out of the salon with her daughter. The

young girl looked down at her new sandals. It was a hot summer day, and the

little men adorning her feet looked miserable. She flexed her feet, and both of

her toe straps moaned in agony. She enjoyed their display of pain, and never

even thought about the men enclosed in the heels of her shoes. They were

disposable, and after all, she had plenty of replacements for them. 'Hey mom,

can you drop me off at the mall? I want to see if Kristen and Kelly are hanging

out there. I'll catch a ride home later on the bus.' Alexa's mother complied,

and after awhile the girl met up with her friends. The three girls walked around

the mall and window shopped, and soon they all removed their shoes. They

continued strolling and talking for another couple of hours barefoot, and after

awhile Alexa said that she needed to get home. 'Be at my house around eight

tonight, you guys. We'll play some games with my new little slaves.' She slipped

her platform shoes back on her feet, and the filth and smell of the mall

engulfed the tired little men. When Alexa returned home she noticed that one of

the little unfortunates trapped in her right heel compartment was not breathing,

and looked dead. She just smiled, and left the little man inside the prison

where he lay. It was the shoe that Quinn occupied, and he just moaned in dispair

at the cruelty of the girl. It was then when he had serious doubts about his

survival.

For the duration of their tour with the teenage woman, the two service slaves

lived in total misery. As Davis predicted, the two men were constantly

neglected. They were only fed decent food and water when the girl sobered up, or

was reminded by her mother to care for her little toys. At times, both men found

themselves gnawing on the leather toe straps that they were fastened to for the

nutrients and moisture that might be available. They were often seperated and

loaned out to various friends of the girl, spending many a day inside the shoes

of women that had no responsibility for their well being. At the end of their

assignment, both men looked like holocaust survivers. Quinn was developing the

same albino look of his partner from his long time spent inside the high heeled

shoes of his captors. When they were returned to the salon, they were

immediately given five days of R & R to recouperate. Quinn was also informed

that his one month family leave was due after the completion of the six month

tour. While he was in R & R the salon attempted to make contact with his wife.

Quinn and Davis ate and drank as much as they could fit into their stomaches

after their ordeal. After two days the little men started to regain their

strength. Quinn contantly dreamed of his beautiful wife Jeanne in his fits of

slumber while he rested. He couldn't wait for his chance to spend time alone

with her, and thirty days seemed like forever to him after the past six months

in service. While he rested in his containment cell in the display section of

the shoe salon, Quinn lazily watched the activities going on around him. He

constantly was amazed at the ease of the patrons who came into the

establishement, picking and choosing little men to occupy various positions in

the fashionable shoes that they wore or purchased, never seeming to care about

the little slaves fate under their soles. To Quinn, it seemed that the little

men were just mere ornaments or toys to be utilized for a woman's fancy of the

moment, no more valuable than the shoes adorning their pretty feet. He stared

out in silence watching a girl as she casually walked to the cage holding the 4f

conscripts down the hall. Something looked familiar in the way that the woman

carried herself as she chose a little man for her pleasure. The tall blond was

extremely attractive, with legs that stretched to hell and back. She plucked a

slave from the cage, like she had a chip on her shoulder towards the little

victim. The woman proceeded to the couch directly in front of the cell that

Quinn occupied, and sat down smiling. She clutched the little man in her right

hand tightly, causing the conscript to scream at the top of his lungs. With an

evil grin the giantess stared directly at Quinn, and slowley removed the

platform mule from her left foot. Quinn felt weak in his stomach as he gazed

into the eyes of his wife's friend Amanda.

The woman smiled wickedly at Quinn as she slowley placed the little man into

position into her shoe. The slave started to squirm, causing her to loose her

grip on the victim. Angered at the man's attempt at escape, Amanda proceeded to

violently flick her finger into the slaves groin, causing him to pass out from

the pain. She then inserted him into a neat little compartment in the front of

the enclosed high heel, where he disappeared from Quinn's view. The shoe was a

clunky platform with an enclosed leather front section and an open heel, and to

Quinn it looked well worn. The man was inserted from the rear of the toe section

into a tight ramped compartment that angled up towards the front of the shoe,

where his little head poked through an opening in the insole just underneath the

area where the woman's toes would be situated. The angled compartment positioned

the mans head so that it rested on the insole looking up towards the mass of

flesh pressing against his face. Amanda held the shoe out so that Quinn could

see the inside. The little slave awoke from his daze, and started to scream.

Quinn noticed the dirty imprint of her foot, and saw that the man's head was

firmly situated under the void of her second toe. Without a word Amanda slowly

inserted her left foot into the platform, smothering the little man in a musty

darkness. The frantic breathing and screaming against her sweaty toes made her

giggle in delight. Amanda stood up, twisted her foot back and forth, and walked

over the Quinn's cage. 'Hello, Quinn, long time no see. Or should I call you

foot slave? My, you've lost some weight, and that tan of yours is gone. I guess

you don't get much sunshine in your new job, huh?' she laughed.

Quinn turned white in the face, and wondered what this bitch was up to. The girl

continued on with her tormenting verbage towards the miniture man. 'Gee, Quinn,

oops, slave, alot has gone on around your place since you left. Since Jeanne

found out about your affair with that college student, she has really taken a

liking to tormenting little men under her feet. The girls in our club all think

that she's a great man basher, just because of you!' Quinn grabbed the bars of

his cage and screamed. 'What in the hell are you talking about!? I never had an

affair with another girl!' Amanda just smiled, and said casually 'I know that,

and you know it too, but as far as your ex-wife is concerned you had an affair.

It wasn't hard to talk that rich little teenage girl that wore you in her

sandals for the last five months to convince your little Jeanne. All it cost me

was a couple of throwaway slaves. She really laid it on about the sex too, and

after all, she knew every detail about your body since you lived under her feet.

Jeanne was livid, and she decided to sell you to the Jenny Choo salon. I talked

her into making a stipulation on the sale. After six more months in Beverly

Hills you will be shipped to a salon in Tokyo, Japan, where you will spend the

remainder of your life. I hear that Japanese women are hard on little American

foot slaves!' Amanda laughed hysterically at Quinn. 'Oh, just a couple of more

tidbits for you to dwell on. Your ex-wife and I have become rather close. She is

planning on moving in with me when your divorce is finalized, which should be

within the next couple of months. In the meantime, I have rented you for the

duration of your stay here in Beverly Hills. You get to spend the next six

months under my feet, and if you worship me the way I like, you might get a

glimpse of your pretty ex-wife once in awhile before you're shipped off to that

slave hell hole in Tokyo! For what it is worth, Quinn, Jeanne is a damn good

lover, and we get along perfectly. I promise that I'll take really good care of

her!' Amanda winked at Quinn slyly.

Quinn dropped to the bottom of the cage and wept. Amanda laughed at the

destroyed little man, and slowley removed her right shoe. 'Time for you to be my

little foot toy, slave. Oh, and one more thing. I don't really get off on having

foot toys adorn my feet as ornaments. Jeanne and I prefer to make our little men

suffer in isolation inside of our shoes. It's much more fitting for a pathetic

little man, don't you think, to live and worship under a woman's foot? And we

don't have to look at their faces or listen to their worthless screaming!' she

said. The sales attendant walked up with the paper work, and once completed,

Amanda proceeded to snatch her little rental victim from the cage. Quinn offered

no resistance, and the woman proceeded to insert the little captive into the

hidden compartment located in the right shoe. His head poked through the opening

in the front section of the platform, and as the trap door shut Quinn noticed

how cramped his body was in the tight little space. He looked around, and like

the other little victim he noticed that his head was positioned under the void

of the bottom of Amanda's toes. He felt the shoe move to the floor, and waited

in a panic for the huge foot to engulf his new prison. He heard the woman laugh

and chatter with the sales attendent about how hot the weather was outside, and

how sweaty her feet would get walking around all afternoon in her enclosed

shoes. 'Ready or not Quinn, here comes my foot. If you want to score some points

with me I suggest that you worship the bottom of my toes with that pathetic

little tongue of yours! When we get home you can clean up the rest of my feet.'

she smirked.

Quinn stared out of the opening of the shoe and watched as Amanda inserted her

foot. She took her sweet time in the process, and when her toes reached the

little mans chest she stopped and flexed them up into the air in front of

Quinn's face. In the dim light he noticed that they were somewhat dirty, and he

cringed at the prospect of having her smelly digits covering his face for the

remainder of the day in the enclosed front section of the platform. The thought

of having to lick them clean later was even more repulsive to Quinn. In quick

order Amanda's foot completed its entry into the shoe, engulfing his head

underneath her pretty toes. To Quinns surprise he was relatively comfortable in

the position that he was in, except for the toe ring that pressed into his face

with each step that Amanda took. After a short period of time, the humidity and

heat intensified inside the shoe, and the womans foot began to sweat. The smell

increased, and moisture began to trickle from between her toes onto Quinns face,

mixed with the grime on her soles. 'If you want to get a glimpse of your ex in

the near future, foot slave, you best get started using that tongue of yours!'

she commanded. Amanda walked out of the shoe salon into the hot summer day. She

stopped for a second to thank her friend Tamara for all of her help. While the

two girls chatted away, Amanda curled her toes tightly around the heads of the

little slaves trapped inside her shoes and giggled wih delight. 'God, Tamara,

there is nothing better than the feeling of two pathetic little men under your

toes on a hot summer day!' She then proceeded to casually walk down the sidewalk

to meet her girlfriend for lunch. The Draftee

Chptr 5

Amanda returned home and walked into her luxurious home. She had just recently

come into a sizable inheritance, and these days’ money and finances were no

object for her. She no longer had to work, and she could now afford the things

that were most important in her life, such as her fetish for little male foot

slaves and her love for her girlfriend Jeanne. And now she owned Quinn. For the

past couple of years she had been in love with his wife, but the husband had

always been a roadblock in their relationship. Now, the political climate had

changed with the radical policies of a new female President, and the world of

the New Age Male had drastically been altered. It was perfect timing for

Amanda’s plan.

The shoe that Quinn occupied was removed, and his owner placed the pair of

platform clogs into the holding cage of her footwear and trophy room. It was a

rather sizeable closet that housed all of her slaves and the shoes that they

were assigned to be worn in. It was actually the size of a small room, and it

resembled a miniature dungeon. The area was enclosed within a cage, to prevent

the possible attempt at escape from the little occupants inside. In the center

of the room were the daily shoes that Amanda, her lover, and various friends

wore on a regular basis, and strapped into some were little male occupants. They

were positioned daily so that a shoe could be slipped on in a moments notice

with a small man intact for whatever activity that should arise, be it workouts,

dancing, our a casual stroll. On the far wall were the cages that housed more

slaves in waiting, for whatever fancies Amanda had planned. Most were utilized

for in shoe activities, but some were used for more erotic pleasures and games.

All of the little men were expendable, except for Quinn. Arranged on the

opposite wall of the shoe closet were the trophies and human shoe designs that

Amanda and her associates had created and enshrined during times of introspect

and fun. It was a vast display of creativity and male suffering, and all of the

occupants of the footwear had been preserved in place for Amanda and her friends

to wear on occasion to remind them of the joy they had had in creating the

fashions. The living occupants of the shoe closet viewed them daily, and some

had the privilege of watching their creation as it transpired. All were

terrified of becoming Amanda’s next fashion.

Quinn was released from his shoe, and allowed to roam around the closet to

survey his new world. Amanda took great pleasure in his visual perspective of

his new existence. He stood and stared at two men who had been mummified into

human sandals on exhibit in the trophy area. The dirty imprint of the owners

feet were embedded into their leather like torsos. Their necks and heads were

positioned as toe straps for the sandals, and Quinn had to fight the urge to get

sick. “I thought you might like those, Quinn. Your ex-wife Jeanne created them.

It took five days for the little shits to set up once the embalming injection

kicked in. She wore them the whole time on her feet to ensure that they formed

properly, and laughed as they moaned and begged for mercy. She still wears them

for fun, and wishes that you were the left sandal.” Amanda laughed and pointed

to a slice of bread lying against the wall of the compound, and a bowl of dirty

water. The food had the distinct imprint of dirty toes imbedded into the center.

“Jeanne is usually the keeper of my slaves when she is here. She only feeds them

once a week, and she left this here just this morning for you all to dine on.

It’s been in her sneaker for a couple of days, so enjoy. By the way, she will be

gone for the next month, but she’ll be back. She is helping her mother move to

California, and when they return they will both be living here with me. Seems

her mom has a liking for little foot slaves as well,” she smirked. “That gives

me just enough time to prepare you for your family reunion!”

Quinn grimaced at the comment. He despised his mother in law. She was a

beautiful woman, but she was a New Yorker that embraced the liberal politics of

the president and her ideals. She was also rich, and a snob as well. And she

never cared for Quinn. He had the impending feeling that he would soon end up as

a slave in her shoe. He started to wonder what the future held for him.

The Draftee

Chapter 6

Dr. Shannon Simone sat in the living room sipping on a glass of wine explaining

the new state of the art surgical and biological procedures currently in place

that clients utilized for modifying their slaves. Amanda was elated with the

opportunity of transforming her new purchase into a more efficient foot toy. The

two friends discussed the options while Quinn labored away at the task of

worshiping their feet. He had been transformed to twenty-four inches in size,

and was tethered with a chain that was fastened around his neck. His owner held

the end of the leash, and on occasion jerked it violently out of spite to

torment her little slave when he failed to lick properly between her guests’

toes. The doctor smiled at him when he was punished, and continued on with her

discussion. Quinn was terrified at what he was hearing.

“It won’t be hard at all to change his appearance, Amanda. I’ll do the plastic

surgery myself. I’ll eliminate his hair, and enlarge his nose. That way he can

smell your foot odor more efficiently. With some changes in the ears and eyes,

his own mother won’t be able to recognize him. I also recommend doing the

bio-molecular reconfiguration process as well. That will eliminate the need to

feed him normal food. After twenty-four hours the only thing he will be able to

process for nourishment is what you provide him with your foot. In other words,

the dirt and sweat off of your feet, flaking skin, toenails, grime, and so

forth. The more, the better. Once the transformation is complete, he will

constantly seek this nourishment. In essence, he will always be worshiping your

foot to stay alive, which all of my clients totally love. It’s also a great

deterrent for his wanting to escape. Without your feet, he will die of

starvation,” the doctor stated matter of factly. “What about his voice,” asked

Amanda. “Is there a way to disguise that?” The doctor continued her dialogue. “I

was just going to get to that. I recommend removing most of his teeth, since

they won’t be necessary anymore. I’ll replace them with a synthetic insert,

which will enlarge his lips, and still allow him to chew whatever he can find in

your shoe. It will make it more efficient for your slave to suck on the bottom

of your foot, kind of like a vacuum cleaner. It really is soothing to feel, and

if you keep him enlarged at the size he is now it really feels great when he

sucks on your toes. Once the procedure is done, about all you will be able to

understand from him is mumbled speech, and of course screaming and moaning. Your

slave will become a perfect foot worshipper.”

Amanda finished her glass of wine and gave Quinn an evil smile. “Perfect,” she

laughed. “When can you do the complete procedure?” The doctor looked at the

trembling little man, drained her wine glass, and told her to have him at her

clinic first thing in the morning. “He’ll be ready to wear in your shoe the next

day. I’ll also give him a strength enhancer, which will help the healing process

and speed up his metabolism. He will be hungry as hell when you put him in your

high heel, so make sure your foot is extremely filthy. I guarantee you’ll love

the results!”

Thirty-six hours later Quinn awoke in a daze and stared up at a faint light

trickling in through the bars of his cage. Amanda had fastened a mirror to his

cell so he could view the effects of the transformation process, and he slowly

rose to his feet. His head was throbbing, and his mouth felt extremely peculiar.

As he stared into the mirror at his deformed features, his body growled with

hunger. The doctor was correct in her assessment of his appearance. Quinn did

not even recognize himself. He let out a feeble scream, and all that he could

muster was a muffled blurt. He fell into a heap and began to cry.

In a moment he heard his master unlocking the closet. She opened the cage Quinn

occupied and quickly snatched him in her hand. She admired the doctor’s

handiwork, and spoke to the broken little man. “Gee Quinn, I really like your

new look,” she stated cheerfully. “And those lips, my god, I’ll bet you could

suck the polish right off of my toenails! You know, even your ex wife won’t be

able to recognize you now. Hey, I bet you’re hungry. You are in luck. I just got

back from the gym, and I worked out for hours barefoot. I heated your dinner in

the oldest gym shoes that I could find to jog home in, so let’s put you inside

one. Let me know if you need seconds, and don’t forget to say grace before

supper!” Amanda popped her heel out of a sneaker and dropped the little man in.

She stepped back down and tapped the front of her foot positioning Quinn

directly under her filthy, sweaty toes. She then proceeded to walk down to the

kitchen to grab something to eat. She sat down on a sofa, turned on a movie, and

plopped her hot feet onto a cushion while she ate. It didn’t take long for the

little man in her sneaker to start working on her foot.

The first thing Quinn noticed was how horrible the sweaty sneaker smelled. His

nasal senses seemed to increase tenfold since his transformation surgery. The

woman tapped the front of the shoe and he slid down the moist insole directly

underneath her toes. In the instant of brief light he noticed that the bottom of

the foot was black with dirt. Under the sweaty toes the heat and smell was

intense. As repulsive as it was, Quinn had no choice but to suck on the damp

grime to survive. He pressed his face against the flesh of a toe, and like a

suction cup his lips spread out against the surface of the skin. With no teeth

the area he was cleaning tripled, and the jaw inserts allowed for a totally

unique sucking action coupled with his now extended tongue. He found that he

could work twice the area of a woman’s foot in a much shorter interval. In no

time he realized that he was almost done cleaning the filth from Amanda’s foot.

And what amazed him was the sudden energy rush he got from eating the grime and

sweat. Not to mention the fact that he was no longer famished.

Amanda was in awe at how erotic the sensation felt on her foot. She made a

mental note to thank Doctor Simone for a tremendous job. She felt Quinn working

the heel of her right foot, and figured that his dinner was finished. She popped

the old sneaker off, and out tumbled the little man. With a snicker she asked

him if he wanted seconds. He mumbled something she could not understand, and

assumed that he was done with the miserable task. To her amazement he walked

over to her left shoe and began untying the laces, sending her a message that he

wanted the other foot as well. She happily complied, and decided to let him dine

on her dirty left foot while she watched his progress. The slave proceeded to

work this foot like the other one, and after completing the job he seemed full.

To her amusement Quinn looked totally disgusted with what he had to do to

survive. He was truly a perfect foot slave. Amanda continued on with her

psychological torture of the broken husband of her lover.

“Quinn, I think that Jeanne would really appreciate your new qualities as a foot

slave. But before she returns, I want to test you on someone else. I’m picking

your ex mother in law up at the airport tomorrow morning. I talked her into

coming to LA early, so that she and I could get better acquainted, you know. I

also promised her the opportunity to try out some of my little men, and she

seemed real interested in my new “super slave”. Don’t worry, though, she doesn’t

realize that it is her worthless son in law. As far as she knows, you are my new

houseboy, and I thought that it would be fun for you to live off of her feet for

the next couple of weeks. Jeanne is staying in New York for a while longer to

wrap up her mothers estate. When she returns I might give you to her as an

anniversary present. Of course, I’ll never reveal to them your true identity! As

far as they are concerned, you are just another convict to torment.”

The Draftee

Chapter 7

Amanda waited at the gate for her girlfriend’s mother to arrive from her flight

to LA. She had never met the woman before, but had seen numerous photographs of

a tall, beautiful, blond lady that looked like a Greek goddess in Jeanne’s

family albums. She was in her early fifties, and had a serious look about her.

When the passengers departed the plane she spotted her immediately walking

elegantly towards the gate. The woman was dressed in expensive looking business

attire that portrayed an air of importance. On her feet she wore classic leather

Italian heels, with a clear synthetic mid section that revealed the

well-sculptured arch of her foot. Amanda was quick to notice a little arm

protruding out to one side from under the flesh of the woman’s right sole, and

she instantly knew that she was going to like Quinn’s mother in law.

“Marion, I’m Amanda Blake, Jeanne’s friend. How was your trip?” she asked. “Long

and boring,” replied the woman. “It would have been more enjoyable if the

occupant in my right shoe wouldn’t have given out on me half way through the

flight. I guess that’s what I get for buying cheap help.” She grinned at Amanda,

and both women started laughing. The two hit it off immediately, and as they

rode home in the Mercedes they chatted about the hot California weather, Jeanne,

moving to LA, and dependable little footmen. Amanda told her all about her new

little “super slave”, and she noticed that the older woman appeared excited at

the prospect of tormenting the little man. She couldn’t wait to see how Quinn

would react to their encounter.

Quinn was chained to the floor in Amanda’s game room, directly in front of two

luxurious leather chairs, awaiting the arrival of his ex mother in law. He was

again twenty-four inches in size, and was in a position that would allow him to

service the feet of both occupants of the seats. Between the sofas was a table

containing a bottle of chilled champagne, two glasses, and a variety of fresh

fruits. He was extremely nervous, and he constantly tugged on the chains binding

his wrists and ankles. He had no idea what Amanda was telling the woman, and for

all he knew he was going to be a dead man soon, or maybe even worse. He had not

been fed for sometime, and he was famished. Quinn cringed at the thought of

having to feed off of the feet of his mother in law. He immediately tensed up as

he heard the sound of female voices cheerf

The Draftee By Waterman    Chapter 1   Quinn drove down the lane where he lived in a foul mood

MORE ABOUT The Draftee By Waterman    Chapter 1   Quinn drove down the lane where he lived in a foul mood