> [!danger] Extreme Content
> This story contains
> * Micro
> * Suffocation
> * Waterboarding (in sweat)
> * Snuff

> [!info] Story description
> You, a micro of unspecified sex and species, asked Azure for a ride on his feet. He obliged. You quickly learn that, sometimes, getting exactly what you wanted can be the worst thing that could happen.
> 
> Inspired by a picture by BlurTheFur.

---
Azure scoffs at your suggestion. “You want to be wrapped against my feet while I work out?” The dragon barely contained his contempt. “You *do* realize you’re gonna be in for a bad time, right? And if you get in trouble, I’m not gonna hear or feel you begging for mercy, even though you *know* a dragon wouldn’t grant you mercy.”

The dragon, twenty feet tall, glares down at you with his glowing, solid white eyes. To a human-sized creature, he’d be intimidatingly large. To a micro such as yourself, he’s practically a god. You’re smaller than his toe-talons. You feel the heat radiating from his bare sole. Azure casually curls and uncurls those digits above you as a reminder of their power. It’s a trivial effort on his part but you’d have no chance of making even one of his toes budge. You can’t compare with his body in any way that matters.

When you don’t immediately run for your life, Azure raises an eyeridge at your lack of a survival instinct. He reaches past you and grabs two lengths of pristine white wrapping material. The fabric (some kind of elastic cotton) is slightly wider than you are tall. “It’s a strength training day,” Azure explains. “I’m putting on ankle support.” He wraps the material a few times around the arch of his right foot, then works it halfway to his knee. It’s a simple pattern that allows each loop of fabric to support the others and, in turn, provide support for a few tons of dragon.

“Your turn,” he says. He’s deliberately slow to reach for you in case you have a last-second change of heart. Perhaps seeing that heavy, black-palmed hand reaching for you—a living shadow that will make you disappear—will spark your will to live. If you are brave, foolish, and/or horny enough to stick around, you’re pinched between his thumb and forefinger and carried towards his free hand. “More like your funeral,” he snarks as your back is pressed against the stretchy fabric. You receive no further acknowledgment as he wraps his left foot in the same way as his right.

Things become tight and dark as the dragon’s foot-wraps surround you. The first loop of fabric puts the world in twilight. The second brings you to the edge of night. By the third, you’re deprived of sight entirely. That elastic material traps you snugly against the arch of Azure’s foot, with your front pressed against his warm, bare skin. His soles are well-maintained and the surface skin is soft but, as the fabric pulls you into his flesh, you are swiftly acquainted with the powerful muscles beneath.

Earlier, the dragon’s warmth was pleasant. Now that you’re pinned against his skin, it’s not pleasant at all. There’s nowhere for the excess heat to go. While you have a little room to move once the wraps are in place, there’s nowhere to get away from the oppressive temperature of the dragon’s body. The dark and heat are like being caught in a desert on the night of a new moon, without even starlight to illuminate the horizon. The unseen sky of Azure’s sole is unyielding to you. Why should a being as great as a dragon yield to a creature as pathetic as a micro? The male doesn’t have to assert himself as a dominant; his mere existence is capable of completely dominating all of your senses.

As threatened/promised, Azure is indifferent to your struggles. If you try to speak, your mouth just gets stuffed with the flesh of his sole. You can already taste a hint of sweat upon it, given the dragon’s selective hygiene habits, but this is merely an appetizer. You’re in for an unending buffet.

Those moments of stillness were merely a calm before the storm. Azure’s foot and wraps flex against your body as he steps. When his foot flexes to step forward, you’re bent backwards and squeezed tightly against his sole. In those moments, breathing is impossible; your entire face is smothered by his flesh. As his foot rises, you experience brief weightlessness and are held entirely by the wrapping. Upon stepping down, you’re pressed against his sole again and may become stuck to his skin, but the violent impact of his foot landing shakes you free. It’s like you haven’t yet earned the privilege of being stuck upon his foot. Not yet.

Azure’s exercise routine is far above you, literally and figuratively. You can hear the sounds of metal plates being raised and lowered, though they’re as inconsequential as distant thunder. His feet are the most important thing for you and, as one expects from a vigorous workout, he’s working up a sweat. The first hint is the smell, as the rising warmth releases more of the lingering musk on his foot. The sweat soon follows and the once desert-like dryness becomes a tropical monsoon. To someone on the outside, his feet would have a glistening sheen that highlights the details and curves upon his feet. To someone on the inside—namely, you—it’s akin to waterboarding.

Sweat is everywhere. It’s unavoidable. Inescapable. Omnipresent. And, given its impact upon your life, omnipotent. His foot wraps are soon soaked through with sweat and you feel like you’re floating in it. When his foot flexes one way, the sweaty fabric is squeezed mercilessly into your back and squeezes more of that hot liquid over your body; when his foot flexes the other way, fresh sweat pours in to baste your front. You’re forced to drink the sweat; the mounting pressure upon your face has jammed your mouth open and allowed the salty, earthy liquid to sting your tongue with its potency.

You’ve begun to fade in and out of consciousness due to oxygen deprivation. His potent sweat has flooded your nostrils. A few ill-timed breaths have allowed some of that liquid into your lungs, which makes it even harder to draw in air. Even if you can inhale without snorting his sweat, the air carries less and less oxygen with every breath you’ve taken since he trapped you.

Azure doesn’t even notice at what point you pass out. He does, however, have a bit of a stiffy at the thought of so casually smothering someone to death. Your final contribution to this world is to give a domineering dragon a reason to jerk off later.