Inside Vin Diesel's Shoe

By Ralphman
 

I should have known it was too good to be true. I mean, I wasn’t even qualified to be a personal assistant, let alone an assistant to a major Hollywood star. I heard about the job from a posting at school. Interviews were being conducted near my apartment, so I figured why not? Hell, at least I might get to meet Vin Diesel. He was, after all, the one who was looking for a new personal assistant. It was either the worst or the best decision I ever made. I’m still not sure.



The interview was strange. I was surprised to see that Vin was there, screening all the initial applicants. I was nervous, but I answered the questions that I was asked. Vin was seated behind a large desk, and another man, his personal trainer, was seated next to the desk. They both seemed interested in my personal life more than my professional experience. In particular, they wanted to know if I lived alone, and if I minded being out of touch with friends and family for long periods of time. I lived alone, and had just moved to California by myself, so I had no problem whatsoever with a job that kept me “out of touch” for lengthy time periods. If only I had known just how out of touch I was going to be... but I’m getting ahead of myself.



Next, they were very interested in my physical condition, in particular, my physique. They asked me to remove my shirt and pants. I was shocked at this request.



“It’s just that I need to see what kind of shape you’re in. You might need to help me with my workout routine sometime,” replied Vin, smiling and looking at his personal trainer.



I’m very muscular, and proud of my build, so I had no problem complying with their request. I removed my shirt and pants, and stood in front of them wearing nothing but my socks and briefs. Vin seemed happy with what he saw. I was starting to wonder if maybe he was gay. The thought of getting down on my knees in front of Vin Diesel definitely appealed to me; I felt myself getting a hard-on.



“Looks good. Better than that last one anyway,” commented the personal trainer.



“Yeah, I think this one’s gonna work out well,” Vin replied, eyeing me up and down.



His gaze fell on the growing bulge in my crotch.



“I, uh... I’m sorry. I don’t know why...” I stammered.



“Don’t sweat it. Go on, get dressed,” Vin interrupted, laughing heartily.



His deep baritone voice was making me harder and harder. I quickly threw on my clothes before he changed his mind and decided that my hard-on wasn’t so funny after all and kicked my ass.



“Well, I think you’re just what the boss is looking for,” said the personal trainer.



“Yes you are. When can you start?” replied Vin.



“I’m ready when you are,” I said excitedly.



Vin laughed loudly again, then addressed the other man.



“Have him sign the papers, before he changes his mind,” he said firmly.



The personal trainer pulled out a contract for me to sign.



“Just a formality. It’s standard procedure in Hollywood. Just sign on the bottom line, and you’re in,” he told me as he slid the long contract in front of me.



I signed the contract without reading it. Big mistake.



“Now, come with me and we’ll get you started,” ordered the personal trainer as he escorted me out of the office and into a small room that resembled a sauna.



“Just sit here and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”



He closed the door and I sat down, wondering what was going on. I thought that this was some kind of joke, like that show “Punk’d” or something like that. Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light, and I felt weak, like I had fainted. I looked up as the door opened and Vin’s personal trainer walked back in. He looked huge to me; I thought I must have been hallucinating.



“Perfect,” he said, as he bent down and picked me up. I then realized I was not dreaming. I was only about 4 inches tall! I sat back in the giant’s hand, feeling totally confused.



“What’s going on?” I shouted up to the personal trainer.



“Didn’t you read the contract, little man? You’re now Mr. Vin Diesel’s personal assistant. What’s unique about this position is the way in which you will assist him. Let me show you something.”



The trainer clenched his fist tightly over me. I thought I was dead as I felt his fingers squeeze tightly around me. But nothing happened. He opened his fist and laughed as he saw how I had been squished out of shape like a piece of silly putty. I squirmed around as I slowly regained my original shape.



“See, you’re actually quite invincible in your current condition. So don’t be afraid of getting hurt.”



“But why... I mean, how... what can I possibly do for anyone when I’m like this?”



The trainer laughed at my question. “You can do a lot. You’ll see.”



He began to walk back to Vin’s office, carrying me in his hand. He continued briefing me on my new duties.



“As you know, Mr. Diesel plays a lot of very macho characters in his films. To keep his aggression level up, it helps him to have someone underneath him, like a personal assistant, there constantly for him to dominate. That’s you, little guy. It’s hard for him to keep personal assistants for long, though. They all seem to burn out quickly. You seem like you’re strong enough to last a while, though.”



“Dominate me? How is he going to do that?”



The trainer just smiled and continued talking. “You’ll be helping him during his workouts, too. I can get him to push himself harder when he has one of his assistants under him.”



“But what do you mean?” I asked again. He ignored me as he opened the door to Vin’s office.



“How’d it go?” asked Vin, his deep, baritone voice seeming to boom even more in my tiny ears.



“See for yourself,” replied the trainer, as he dropped me onto Vin’s desk.



I stood up, looking at my new boss. He smiled wickedly, then raised his fist over me.



“Lay down,” he ordered.



I did as he said, dreading what was going to happen. He slammed his fist down on me, and I felt myself flatten out. It was uncomfortable, but not extremely painful. He removed his fist, and looked down at me, laughing.



“Now hold it. You gotta learn to hold whatever shape I want you in.”



I tensed my muscles and found that I could indeed keep myself from changing shape.



“Excellent. A quick learner. Well, time for you to start work.”



Vin bent down to get something. I couldn’t tell what he was doing. Then I saw it. He sat up and placed one of his Reebok trainers on the desk next to me. Then he peeled me off the desk and held me over the opening of his shoe. I panicked, and regained my regular form.



“Now why did you go and do that?” he asked me, shaking his head in disappointment. “I had hoped to break you in slow, but I see I have no other choice. You asked for it.”



He dropped me into his shoe. I landed on the insole, directly on the partially worn off Reebok logo on the heel section. The insole was moist and warm, and the inside of the shoe smelled like a locker room.



“Now lay down. On your back,” ordered my boss.



I moved towards the inside of the shoe and sat down, preparing to lay on my back. It smelled much worse deeper inside the shoe, but I figured the stronger foot odor would be preferable to being crushed under Vin’s heel. My actions, however, did not make my boss happy. He tilted his shoe up, and I rolled back to the heel.



“Lay down. Right there. Right there on the dark spot,” he ordered angrily.



I saw the spot he was talking about. The area around the Reebok logo on the insole was dirty and worn from Vin’s heel. I sat down and laid back, fitting into the indentation in the insole caused by the constant pressure of Vin’s heel. He looked down at me.



“That’s better. Now don’t move,” he ordered, as I felt the shoe move. He was putting the shoe down on the floor, getting ready to put it on. He looked at me one last time, smiled, and then raised his foot. I watched as his huge, sweat-socked foot moved over the opening of the shoe. His toes slid in above me. His foot paused as he wiggled his toes over me to taunt me. I could hear him and his personal trainer laughing loudly at my plight. He pushed his toes down on top of me, squishing me into the insole. I was flattening out again as he wiggled his huge toes around me. All I could smell was his intense, manly foot scent. He had obviously had the shoes on all day, and the aroma was overpowering.



Suddenly, he lifted his toes off of me. I could breath again as fresh air flowed over me. Not for long, though. His foot continued sliding into the shoe over my partially flattened body. Finally, his heel was directly over me. His sock was dirty and worn in the heel section. I could see some of the skin of his sole through the worn fabric. I saw the tip of his thumb holding the back of the shoe opening, so I knew what was coming. I braced myself as Vin Diesel’s heel slowly descended into the shoe over my body. As his heel came down towards me, the light was blocked out completely. Then Vin’s heel slammed down, completely flattening me. I could feel the warm, moist insole against my back, while the front of my body was pressed into the sweaty, dirty fabric of Vin’s sock. My face was pressed deep into the sock, but amazingly, I could still breath. My mouth was filled with the salty taste of Vin’s heel sweat, and my nostrils were filled with the most intense foot odor I had ever experienced. I could hear Vin tying his laces, and then the pressure on my body increased as he stood up. I was flattened even more as he put his full weight down on me. I hadn’t felt anything yet, however. I wondered what was happening out there, in the real world, outside of Vin Diesel’s Reeboks...



Vin stood up after lacing his shoe.



“How’s he feel?” asked the personal trainer.



“Nothin’ better than breakin’ in a new guy. I think this one’s gonna work out fine.”



“Well, speaking of working out, it’s getting late. We better get to the gym.”



“You got it man. I feel pretty pumped up already. I’m think I’m ready for one intense work out.”



The two men walked out of the office, heading for the gym.

Vin and his personal trainer walked to Vin’s car, a Toyota Supra Turbo HP 650, actually one of the cars he drove in his film The Fast and the Furious. He had been allowed to keep the car as part of his contract. Vin was enjoying the sensation of the soft, warm body of his new assistant sensuously cushioning his heel as he walked. The men got in the car and Vin revved up the engine.



“Ready for some speed, Jackson?” Vin asked his personal trainer, as he pressed his foot down on the gas pedal. While he pressed on the gas pedal, he also pushed down on his heel, smashing his new assistant’s soft little body more and more into the fabric of his sock.



“Man, you become a menace to society whenever you get one of these new guys under your foot,” laughed Jackson. “Let’s go!”



Vin laughed and put the car in gear. He hit the gas and they were off to the gym.



Inside Vin’s Reebok, I was getting accustomed to the feeling of being almost merged with his insole and his filthy, sweaty sock. I thought that I was going to die when he first started walking on me, but now, pushing his foot down on the gas pedal was even worse. He was deliberately trying to make me feel pain as he raced his car to the gym. What I didn’t know was that this was nothing compared to what I would go through once we got to the gym. This punishment continued for what seemed to me like hours. Crushing pressure as he accelerated, with occasional relief when he lifted his foot to hit the brake pedal. Finally, I heard the car engine stop. Then more crushing pressure as Vin got up and started walking. We were heading to the locker room.



The movement stopped, and it felt like Vin had sat down again. The pressure on my body decreased dramatically. Suddenly, I felt relief as Vin’s heel began to lift off of the insole. Fresh air and light began to flood into the Reebok as Vin pulled his foot out of the shoe. I breathed deeply as Vin’s huge, sweaty foot slid over me.



“What are you doin’, takin’ him out?” asked Jackson.



“Hell no. He just don’t do me that much good when there’s a sock between my foot and him. I need to feel him, man!”



Vin and Jackson both started laughing at this comment. They were both looking into Vin’s shoe at me. I was trying with all my strength to stay flattened out on the insole; I didn’t want to piss my boss off again today. Then he gave me another directive.



“Okay, get up and reshape yourself. It’s alright, I want you to,” Vin ordered.



I did what he said. I pulled myself up off the insole and began reshaping myself. Within seconds, I was back to my normal, 4 inch tall form. I began to climb out of Vin’s Reebok. The sides were slippery with foot sweat, but I managed to pull myself up and over the top. I jumped down to the locker room floor. I looked up at Vin, thinking that this little game was finally over, and he was going to let me go. I was very wrong. And my new boss was very pissed.



“Did I tell you to get out of my shoe?” he asked me with rage in his eyes.



“Jackson, did you hear me tell him to get out of my shoe? ‘Cuz I sure as shit don’t remember tellin’ my man here to do anything except stand up and get back into shape,” he asked his personal trainer.



“No, boss, I sure didn’t hear you tell little man here that he could get out of your shoe. Looks like your new assistant doesn’t know how to follow orders,” replied Jackson, sarcastically.



“Then I better give him some more training, right?” said Vin, laughing sadistically.



“Yep, you better retrain the little guy!”



I stood there trembling in fear, as Vin gave Jackson an order.



“Jackson, take off my socks!” he commanded. Jackson sheepishly kneeled down, and began to pull off Vin’s socks. When he had removed both of them, he looked down at me and pointed at Vin’s bare feet.



“Kiss your boss’ feet and tell him you’re sorry,” he ordered.



I looked at him in shock. Compared to being smashed beneath Vin’s heel for an hour, kissing his feet wouldn’t be that bad. I just couldn’t believe this was happening to me, and my state of mind made me stand motionless for a moment. This did not make my boss happy.



“Okay, have it your way,” said Vin, suddenly moving his foot towards me.



As the huge foot came towards me, Vin spread his toes wide. Before I knew what had happened, I was between his big toe and the next one. He clenched his toes hard around me and held his foot up in the air.



“Now this is what happens to employees who don’t follow my directives. Right, Jackson?”



“Yeah, I know that all too well,” answered the personal trainer. Jackson had once spent an entire month in Vin’s boot, during the filming of XXX. He didn’t ever want to go back there again.



Vin slipped his foot back into the Reebok, with me still between his toes. He laced his shoes up, and then he and Jackson walked out to the gym.



As Vin walked, I was squished in and out between his toes. There was still a lot of lint from his sweat socks there; it got into my mouth and nose. His feet were already sweating profusely, and without the sweat-sock to absorb the liquid, I was getting drenched. As I was being squeezed, crushed, and squished, I involuntarily swallowed mouth-fulls of Vin’s salty foot sweat. The amount of sweat increased as Vin’s workout progressed. I could hear him shouting as he bench pressed more weight than he had in months.



Jackson was shouting encouragement to him as he pumped more and more weight: “Do it, man. Think of that little pussy down there in your shoe! Smash his ass, man. Turn him into toe jam!”



And Vin seemed to want to do just that. He squeezed me between his toes until I thought I was going to split in half. I slipped through his sweaty toes and ended up under the ball of his foot. He then pushed down on me, flattening me into the insole again. I thought I would drown in his foot sweat in that position, so I got myself out from under his foot, but suddenly found myself under his big toe. He pushed his toe down on me, flattening me once again. My body started to wrap around his big toe, like a bandaid or something. His toe was so slippery with sweat that I slid off, and found myself deep between his toes again. He squeezed me, and it all started over again. This went on for what seemed like hours. Finally it stopped. Vin began to walk, and I thought the workout was over. But he wasn’t heading for the locker room. He was heading for the track.



I realized something was wrong when Vin’s footsteps became more and more rapid. “Shit,” I thought to myself, “now he’s going to start running!” I braced myself for the worst.



As Vin hit the track and began to run, his footsteps changed. He was running, so he was putting more of his weight on the front part of his foot. I was an avid runner myself, so I knew that being under Vin’s toes or the ball of his foot would be a bad idea. I had to try to work myself back towards his heel, where there would be less impact. I began to pull myself away from Vin’s toes, under his foot. It was actually pretty easy to move, because his foot was so drenched in sweat at this point that I practically just slid along the insole of the shoe. I made it to Vin’s instep, where I was actually able to get a breath of fresh air as his foot pounded along the track. I decided to hold on and stay there, because the instep pad of the insole was actually fairly comfortable, even with Vin’s foot pounding me into it as he ran.



Finally, Vin’s footsteps slowed. I realized with relief that he was walking again- this time, I hoped, to the locker-room. Thankfully, he was finished for the day. I felt his weight come off of me as he sat down and prepared to undress. His foot pulled off of me and out of the shoe, and I stood up, completely soaked in Vin Diesel’s foot sweat.



“Man, you look like you had a rough day,” he laughed as he looked into his shoe. “I’m going to hit the shower. You don’t go anywhere this time.”



He picked his shoes up and put them in his locker, with me still in one of them. He slammed the locker door, and everything was pitch black. I had to try to get out, but how? I began to try to climb out of the huge Reebok, but it was too wet with sweat. I kept falling back onto the insole. Finally, I realized that it would be easier to climb up on the tongue of the shoe and grab the shoe lace to pull myself out. This worked like a charm, and very quickly I was standing up on top of the huge Reebok. Suddenly, the locker door opened. Vin was standing there, looking at me.



“I should have guessed. What am I going to do with you?” he bellowed. “Get back inside that shoe. NOW!”



I was so frightened that I slipped off and fell back inside Vin’s Reebok. He picked up the shoe and held it up so that I tumbled into the toe section. Then he took one of the socks he had been wearing and stuffed it in the shoe, trapping me. He stuffed it in so tightly that I couldn’t even move. I gave up, and just accepted that I would have to endure whatever he wanted to do with me. He threw his Reebok back in the locker, and slammed the door. I heard him shout, “that oughta keep you still” as he walked to the showers.



I lay there in the darkness wondering what could possibly happen to me next. I was stuck in the toe section of a major Hollywood star’s shoe, trapped by his rank, sweaty sock. I was only 4 inches tall. I was a piece of Vin Diesel’s footwear. How could this have happened to me?!!!!



I finally drifted off to sleep. When I woke up, I was laying in one of Vin’s dress shoes. I stood up, and looked at my boss. We were still in the locker room, but he was now showered and dressed. He looked good, very sexy. “Must be going on a date,” I thought to myself.



“Ah, sleeping beauty has awakened,” he said as he noticed me standing in his shoe looking at him. “I thought maybe I had killed you!”



He walked over to his shoes and lifted one of his feet. He slipped his foot into the shoe next to the one I was in.



“Got a premier party to go to tonight. Should be an easy night for you. Lay down.”



I did as he said, laying down directly on the heel pad of the shoe.



“No, that’s okay. Go up front. You had a hard day, I’m going to go easy on you tonight.”



I quickly moved toward the front of Vin’s shoe. It smelled wonderful in this dress shoe, not at all like the funky, sweaty Reebok. I looked over at the side of the shoe, where it said “Leather upper. Made in Italy.” No wonder it smelled good. I loved the smell of leather. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all. It began to get dark again as Vin’s foot started to enter the shoe. I looked at his foot, now wearing a black and grey gold toe dress sock, as it slid into the shoe and over my body. His heel crashed down into the shoe, and I was pressed into the smooth, sensuous fabric of Vin’s gold toe hosiery. The smell of the expensive shoe leather now mingled with the delicious, masculine aroma of Vin’s foot. I felt different now, very safe and secure. Vin began to walk, and I was slowly flattened more and more into his sock. He was right; this would be an easy night for me. I deserved that much.

To be continued...