Aunt Mary's Secret


It's not every day that I get to bribe the County Coroner and his staff, so I brought lots' of money. Turns out, they went cheaper than I expected. Aunt Mary had just arrived a few minutes before. There she was in that bag, still looking remarkably good for a woman who was almost sixty. I put on a pretty good show of being the grief-stricken niece who needed a few moments alone with her loved one. Actually, that part was all true, so it didn't take much acting to convince them. A good pile 0f green paper with pictures of U S Grant helped move things along. Anyway, they all left and I was alone with Aunt Mary.

I unzipped the bag. As I opened it, the damage from the truck was more obvious. I have a strong stomach, but I knew that I couldn't take this for long. They had slipped her shoes off at the scene, but hadn't looked too closely. I gingerly handled her limp, impossibly cold foot, and turned it so that I could inspect the soles. Yes, there he was, inside her left stocking. I pulled out a razor, and made a slit in her stocking. I was sure that he was still alive until I picked him up. He felt as cold and clammy as his owner. I felt a sudden rush of disappointment, though it would make my job a lot easier if he had not survived. I looked at him closely, all five inches of him. I 'd never seen skin so white, and the funny, grey beard ran half way down his chest. He had a really lean muscular look, clearly Aunt Mary kept him on a heart healthy diet. Then, I saw him shiver. He was alive! I guessed he was just cold and very, very scared. Well I needed to act quickly. I wrapped the little guy in my hanky, and was about to put him in my purse when I remembered how cold he was. I opened my blouse and deposited him between my breasts. He was under the elastic and it looked like a tight fit. I fretted for a second until I recalled where he had just been.

I buttoned up and made my way out of there. I had to make some small talk, and stare down one clown who thought he might get more out of me than a couple of Grants. There's always one in every bunch. When I finally hit the street, I decided to head home. I pulled out my pretty pink Nokia, a girl needs a few feminine things, and called the office to tell them I would be home. I didn't get any flak, since I'm the boss. I supposed with Aunt Mary gone I'd soon be the owner too. I decided to ride the train. I could have somebody pick up my car, and I felt too distracted to battle the traffic. I skipped up the steps to the CTA station, and soon was heading North.

My place has a really nice view of Lake Michigan. I went out on the balcony to collect my thoughts, and watch the sailboats in the distance. Finally I decided to look at the orphan that I had inherited. He was all warmed up but his eyes were still tightly shut. It occurred to me that he was not used to bright light. I took him into my bedroom. I found an old shoe box. I have lots of shoe boxes, and all of them have old shoes in them. I have a thing for shoes, and I can never seem to get rid of them. That's something else I got from Aunt Mary. There are worse indulgences, I thought, than collecting old shoes. I figured that I was holding one of them. Anyway, except for the pretty shoes and the pink cell phone, I'm pretty much all business.

This box had an old pair of very worn sandals that went back to college. I couldn't help but recall a couple of the instructors that I had teased in those sandals, back when I'd sit right in the front row, and keep my feet extra busy. I sighed, then took out the sexy sandals and threw in some knee highs that I pulled out of the hamper. I rested him on the nylon. He seemed to relax, and soon started to make little snoring sounds. It must have smelled like home.

He didn't move for several hours. It was just as well, as I had lots of details to attend to. Twenty phone calls later, I decided to take a chance and went down the Street to Aunt Mary's place. I needed a couple of things. The place was dark, but I had a key. I opened her safe, to get a special letter. In the master bedroom, I found a small suitcase, laying open on the floor. Inside were a single saddle shoe, and a few odds and ends. I took the case and the letter and made my way home.

The little fellow was still asleep. I moved him and one of my stockings into the saddle shoe. At least it would be in his real home when he awoke.

An hour later I saw some movement in the shoe. He was sitting up. He seemed uncomfortable in even the dim light of my room. I sat on the floor by the box. He heard the noise but looked over in my general direction. I remembered Aunt Mary telling me how nearsighted he was. I had a hard time not laughing. I decided to start the conversation.

"Hello, Eddie. You had a very long nap. How are you feeling?"

He seemed shocked, and began to move his mouth. I realized he was trying to talk, and was clearly out of practice. He finally managed a single hoarse syllable. "Talk?"

It sounded like a question. "Yes, little one you can talk to me."

"Is that... Are you Mary Lou?"

"No honey, I'm afraid not. Do you understand what happened?"

"Did Mary Lou get hurt? Where is she?"

" My aunt, Mary Lou Adkins was in an awful traffic accident. I'm sorry, but she died."

"was afraid... I felt her get so cold... I was afraid she was gone. I wanted it to be a bad dream. I wanted you... Her to say that my two years, it was finally up... But I knew it wasn't true. I must have been so close to the two years."

"Eddie, What was it about two years?"

"Why that was the purpose... The whole idea for the challenge... That if I stayed under her foot for the whole two year period, to show her how much I loved her... that she would make me big again and she would marry me. We must have been so close. Are you one of her friends? Miss, could get closer? I can't see very well."

I bent close to the case. He crawled out of her shoe. He seemed suddenly aware of his nakedness, as he dragged my knee-high with him and tried to wrap himself in it. He looked very cute, but silly. He came slowly toward the end of the suitcase. He looked up at my face, which was only a few inches away. He stared at me for a moment, then sat down abruptly, and turned his eyes away. "I'm sorry ma'am. You're very beautiful... It's just that I haven't seen a human face this close for a long time. You scared me a little. Miss, do you know how close it is to two years?"

"Well, my name is Catherine. I have to say, it's not very close to two years, it's closer to about, well, thirty-nine years. You're a little overdue!"

I tried to talk some more, but it was soon obvious that he was through for the evening. The teeny mirror I brought him didn't help much, either. He still thought of himself as the high school bookworm, fawning over the homecoming Queen that he worshiped. In fact, he looked like one of the Keebler elves after a crash diet. He wasn't quite ready to see the humor in his situation. I checked in the suitcase to make sure that he had water and baby food in his tiny trough, and that his miniature latrine was empty. Then I went to bed and let the poor guy cry.

The next day he was more talkative. I listened politely as he went on about Mary Lou as he called her. I didn't know that she was his next door neighbor, or that he had "worshiped her since we were twelve." To be truthful, he reminded me of that several times. I got the impression that Aunt Mary did quite a number on him. I did see her in a very different light. A snotty, stuck up rich bitch sort of sums it up. Yes, and our hero loved every bit of it. They had quite a thing going. He would pester her till she slapped him and advised him to drop dead. Then, when the poor sucker had just about cried it all out, she would call him! Would he take her to the store? Would he do her homework? Would he take her to the big game, since her real boyfriend was always on the team, and wasn't available? She called him the Housefly, cause the coke bottle bottoms he wore for glasses made his eyes so big and funny. Well, Housefly was small, even then. He could fit right under her hoop skirts. She would let him take her to the movies and they would sit in the balcony. He would disappear right under her, with no one the wiser. They did that stuff back in the fifties? I always wondered why girls wore those silly hoop skirts. Now, I guess I know.

She'd get embarrassed at having this nerd around and chase him off. She wanted a better looking boyfriend; that's what Eddie thought. I don't think he ever caught on to the fact that Aunt Mary liked girls. She didn't have much use for him, but I gather she didn't like the idea of all that worship being wasted on some other, less deserving girl. He made the two years under her foot business sound like some sort of Romantic Quest, like winning the archery Tournament to get Maid Marian's hand. I was pretty sure that this two year business was crap. I remember Great Aunt Lilian. She was the sorceress who made him small. I had no knack for studying the craft. But I am sure that you can't reverse that kind of spell after two years. Two weeks maybe, but not two years.

It dawned on me that he still wasn't a bit angry with his Mary Lou. I'm pretty sure that if somebody gypped me out of forty years of my life, I'd at least be irritated. No, he insisted that he hadn't proved himself worthy. He wasn't diligent enough. He couldn't get to the right position in her shoe fast enough. He showed me this list on the inside side of his suitcase. It was a list of where he was supposed to go in her stocking or in her shoe, to give her just the right feel, when she stepped on him. He had this list memorized, along with a string of Morse code. Aunt Mary never talked to him. She'd tap out the code on the side of the shoe when she was sitting, and Housefly, uh Eddie, had to crawl to the right spot, before she got up and walked. If he didn't make it, she'd stamp her foot really hard to show that she was displeased. I looked at that long list. Great-Aunt Lilian must have done a good job on him if he could survive all those. He was really proud of being able to drag himself from her heel, all the way down to the crevices under her toes, in just a few seconds. After a while, that's about all he could think of-dragging himself from one spot to another, and experiencing her foot pressing down on him. No wonder the days ran together. It struck me as a pretty monotonous life, at least for him. I have to admit that the longer I let him talk, the more excited I got. I felt pretty guilty too. The little snook is pouring his heart out to me and I'm sitting there nodding, and wondering how it would really feel to step on him.

Finally I told him that I had to leave for a while. I said for him to stay put, and that we'd talk some more when I got back. He acted all disturbed. He kept telling me that he had to do something. He couldn't stay there all alone. He'd never been alone this long before. He was cold and isolated. He started to shiver, and cry again. I offered to take him in my purse, and that made him even more agitated. Some guys can sure turn on the tears. Finally it dawned on me what he was after. I was terribly embarrassed, particularly since it was what I was fantasizing about a few minutes back. I wondered if, nearsighted as he was, he could tell that I was blushing. I took off my shoe, and held it in front of him. "Is this what you want?" He gave me this look like I'd told him he'd won the LOTTO. I felt kind of silly, wondering what to do next. I sat my shoe in the suitcase, and he hopped right in. OK, I thought; now what? He sat there looking up at me. I knew he wanted something. After a bit he said, "What position, Miss Catherine?"

I quickly glanced at the list, and called out, "Position eleven." He smiled at me, and disappeared into the toe section. I read that position eleven, was "spread-eagled on back, under the toes, with head under the little toe."

I set the shoe on the floor, it felt just a little heavier than normal. I stood up. By this time I was very aroused. I stepped back, and leaned till I could just see the edge of him, patiently lying there waiting for me. So I straightened up, and stepped right in the shoe. I figured that I would mash him out a little, and that he would feel like rubber or putty. It was nothing like that. His body was warm, and firm. I could feel every part clearly, even when I stepped down on him with all my weight, and pressed my toes into his body. His right arm and leg extended to top of my toes, and I could tell he was stroking along the front of my nails. Then I could feel his teeth chewing on my little toe. What would this feel like if he was inside the stocking, and against my bare skin?

I started to feel dizzy, and fell into a big chair setting by the foot of my bed. I felt a little short of breath, and the room, all of a sudden, was hot. My eyes closed as I leaned back in the chair. The shoe where Eddie was working came up on to the foot board. I rotated my sole back and forth, as if I were crushing a very stubborn cigarette, stuck to the wood. If anything, the extra pressure made him busier than before. I focused on the sensations in my shoe, and between my legs. The orgasm built slowly till it took over my brain, as the tingling pleasure swirled throughout my body. There was not much time to rest. I got up and quickly repaired my hair and make up. I sprayed on some extra perfume. If anyone got close enough to smell me, I didn't want them to get the wrong (or maybe I should say the right) idea. On my way to the door, I stopped and scribbled down a couple more position codes. Then I went to the office.

Between funeral arrangements, and the strange sensations in my shoe, not much energy was left for work. It was just as well. Everyone was upset and distracted. I noticed that even the people who hated me, seemed extra nice. Of course they all knew I was Aunt Mary's heir. I finally sent everyone home. We could shut down till after the funeral. That gave me some more time alone. I sat at my desk and read the tribune's story. Mary L. Adkins, noted author, businesswoman, and radical feminist, died yesterday in a freak traffic mishap. I thought to myself that they missed the part about Mary Lou, the very mischievous nasty teenager. Yea, they missed a few things. I pushed my hand under the desk, and tapped out a code on the side of my shoe. In a couple of seconds, he started to move. I could sense him sliding right under my foot How could he move that fast? His head came to a stop under the instep. His hands snaked out to the sides, He was trying to give my foot a bear hug. This time I could feel him licking my instep. He must have been moving his head as much as possible to make the strokes that long. There was something new. His slender body extended under the ball of my foot toward the toes. There was something hard, like the teeniest pebble. Suddenly curious, I stood and put all my weight on him. The stroking from his arms stopped. He was still licking though, and the little pebble was still there. I did the cigarette grinding motion with all of my weight. No change in the pebble yet. I banged my sole violently to the floor again and again. Finally the pebble receded, I stood there with a smug sense of accomplishment. I had stomped out his erection. Then I noticed the wetness. The little devil had ejaculated. I pictured it all in my head, and started to snicker. Then I felt the pebble coming back, hard as before. I started to laugh out loud. A tricky little devil indeed!


The next few days were half grief, and half pleasure. I copied the list of positions and codes. I expected to have Eddie for only a few days. I decided to try all the positions that I could "Squeeze" into that time. He was simply amazing. He never complained of the pain, and he never seemed to wear out. He was very happy too. He told me that he loved having the chance to talk again. He took good advantage of it. He would go on gabbing all night if I let him. He decided to keep his grey beard, once he got a good look at it. He started using it more on my soles It tickled and itched. I think he made me itch on purpose sometimes, just to get me to try to scratch it. I'd started keeping him in my stockings most of the time. That way, I could slip my foot out, and find some sharp place to rub my itch, and him too. I waited a couple of days after the funeral to give Eddie the letter that I had taken from the safe. I carried it with me as I sat next to the suitcase. He was just waking up from a nap. He crawled out of the saddle shoe, and smiled in my direction. I lifted him out of the suitcase, and sat him next to my feet. He looked at me as if to ask which shoe today? Instead I gave him the letter. There were actually two letters. One the size of a postage stamp. And a full size copy for me. I explained it to him and we read them together.


To my little Eddie the Housefly:

Eddie, if your reading this, then I have either died or become incapacitated. It must have happened quickly. I had every intention of letting you die before me if I have any warning. My niece Catherine, should be with you. No other person knows that you exist. If I am gone, then you will need to find a new life, so I should explain some things.

I was very angry and frustrated with you when I had Lilian do this to you. I always loved your devotion to me. But you were a funny looking kid. We couldn't be a couple. Any time you tried to kiss me I felt terrible nausea. It wasn't just how you looked. I think that you really were cute the way a happy puppy dog is. I don't think that you understood that I am a lesbian. I tried to tell you many times, but you would not listen.

I wanted you to go away. So I came up with this idea to put you under my foot. I did not think it through very well. I expected that I would sort of torture you down there for a day or two, and you would scream to be released. Aunt Lilian would restore you, and you would go away, and stay away until the next time I wanted you. Then I really did put you under my foot. I didn't count on how both of us reacted to that. You know that I always got a charge out of controlling you. But this was a hundred times better. I found a special pleasure, that you could never have given me as a full-size man. You didn't scream and beg to be released. No, you followed the silly rules that I made up. Maybe I should have ended it there, but I was having too much fun. I kept putting it off. After a couple of months, I realized that it was too late. The spell became permanent. I never intended to marry you. But I did not mean to trap you either.

Then I noticed that you were sexually excited too. It seemed perfect. As time passed, I could tell we were both happy. Why mess things up with the truth? You made it too easy for me. I kept you in a dark room, and you couldn't see me well enough to tell that I was changing. You were my dear little pet. I loved to take care of you. I loved every one of those thousands of little stains that you left on my sole. Sometimes I was tempted to talk to you, but was ashamed to let you know how I had lied. I knew I would never let you go. So, I decided to let you keep the dream of being my husband. There have been moments, when the guilt has resurfaced. I did lie, and steal your life away. I caused your family grief. But you have spent your life serving me. I think that's what you wanted. You must have suspected that many years had passed. You never spoke either. I think you too were afraid to lose what we had. So we never spoke.

I do want you to know that I loved you. Believe it or not, you came first with me. I have had many lovers. But none of them were close to me as you were. I chose to keep you as my personal very intimate, very special secret. Catherine will take care of my affairs, and she is now your protector. I'm certain that you know each other by now. I feel certain that she will make the right decision for you. Good bye my adorable pet. You have given me more pleasure than I could ever put into words.

Mary Lou Eddie was crying, long before he finished the letter. Well, OK, I was sniffling too. He wandered over and hugged my foot. "You know she was right," he said. "I couldn't keep track of time very well. But I knew. Every summer she'd wear sandals and kept her feet bare. She had to keep me in a little bag. She'd pin it to the insole. That way nobody could see me and I couldn't fall out. I knew it was a summer thing, and that a lot of different summers had passed. I knew about her pleasure too. I could tell by the smell every time she had an orgasm. It took me a long time to figure it out, but I knew. I didn't finish High school. But I guess I'm the expert on foot smells. Every spot, and every toe had a special scent." He looked up at me with that nearsighted stare, and he grinned. "And yes, Miss Catherine, I can tell when you have pleasure too."

I was blushing again. "Well, Eddie the Housefly. What do we do now?"

"Oh, Miss Catherine, I think you know what I want. I've got ten or twenty good years I hope. I'm afraid I'm too old to learn a different line of work."


Epilogue

A year had passed. Catherine sat in a long boring meeting. She didn't seem to mind. People seemed to like her more, nowadays. All the staff marveled at how patient and agreeable she had become. The business prospered. The gossips claimed she must have a great lover, to be so content. But she still lived alone. There was nobody that close to her. The gossips talked about a secret lover. If it were true, it was a very well kept secret, indeed.

Catherine leaned forward, feeling some frustration as the meeting dragged on and on. Under the table, she tapped lightly on her shoe. A moment later she relaxed. She started to smile...


ogilthorpe