“How long are you just going to stand around? Start rubbing, little man!” Yamcha commanded as he relaxed back on the bed with his muscular arms folded behind his head. You continued to stand there, glaring up at the larger man. Your fists were clenched with anger. If he thought you were just going to be pushed around, he had another thing coming!
“No! I won’t rub your gross feet! Get someone else to do it; I’m out of here if you aren’t going to help me.” you shouted at him, surprising the older man a bit. You turned your back to the giant and waltzed on over to the edge of the bed. Hopefully you’d be able to slide down the comforter and be on your way. You never got that far, however, because you suddenly found yourself in the middle of a shadow. Before you could even turn around, something huge and smelly slammed into your back and forced you flat on your stomach. The large object, which was Yamcha’s foot, smushed you into the soft bedding and made you yelp.
“Not so fast, lil fella! You can’t just walk away after I told you to do something.” Yamcha chuckled and, with you still pinned under his sweaty sole, dragged you away from the edge of the bed. “Do you know what I could do to you, little man? I could crush you like a bug just for saying no to me…or maybe make a little snack out of you!” The young Z Fighter grinned and slapped his hard stomach with one of his hands. This made you cry out in fear and squirm harder, not wanting to end up a snack for this man’s gut. Yamcha picked his foot off his bed and brought it to his handsome face. You were stuck to the mighty sole thanks to all the sweat; a sight that made Yamcha laugh hysterically. After getting control over himself again, Yamcha peeled you off his foot and dangled you in front of his face. “I won’t do that just yet, though. This is a rare opportunity and I want to make the most out of it! Instead I think I’ll, just this once, rub my feet myself…but using you!”
You didn’t really understand what the giant martial artist meant, but you soon found out when he brought you over to sole you had just been smothered by. Before you knew it you were smashed against the damp, hot foot and rubbed face fist into it. Your muffed shouts were ignored as the much larger male used his meaty hand to drag you back and forth along his overworked foot. You squirmed and wiggled, but Yamcha’s fingers made sure to keep you in your place.
“Ahhh…that feels good…” Yamcha spoke as he rubbed you over the top of his foot. The skin of the foot was solid like a rock and the muscles underneath were full of power. You imaged all the people Yamcha must of kicked in the face with them and now you were getting up close and personal with them. It didn’t hurt as much as being kicked in the face, but it sure wasn’t comfortable. The sweat and heat of the foot washed over you, dampening your clothes and burning your nostrils. You groaned for him to stop, but he only tossed your minuscule body into his other hand so he could work on the other foot.
Why was Yamcha doing this? Didn’t he see you as a human? A human child, for that matter? Who knew the guy was cruel enough to take advantage of someone’s size like this.
“Just think, little man. If you had obeyed me, you would of only had to touch my foot with your hands. Now you’re getting the full treatment! Bet you wish you hadn’t been so naïve, eh?”
The muscular young fighter bellowed with laughter as he dragged you over his heel. You weren’t squirming anymore, already seeing how futile it was. Yamcha was already superhuman to begin with; you didn’t stand a chance of fighting back at your pathetic size.
“You know, you make a pretty good sweat rag, little man.” Yamcha said as he brought you up to his face. Your body was weak from the exposure to his smelly feet, but you were still conscious and capable of listening to him. “I think I’ll do this again sometime. In fact…” Yamcha grinned deviously. “My feet aren’t as sweaty as they used to be, but they’re still pretty hot. How about you cool them down with…say…your tongue! Yeah!” Yamcha giggled like a little kid as he imagined you licking his big feet. “If you don’t…I’ll keep using you as a sweat rag. The rest of me is still pretty sweaty!” To prove this to you, Yamcha raised his free arm over his head to expose his glistening, hairy armpit. Your eyes widened as you realized he was threatening to put you in there if you refused again. He wouldn’t do that…not Yamcha. He was a good guy! Using you to rub his feet was just an unfunny joke…he wouldn’t put you in that stinky hell…right?
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