P.E. class is halfway done, and the coach finally blows the whistle for a break. Students scatter to the edges of the field to rest and hydrate. You’re already near the bleachers, tiny and staying out of the way, when you see your giantess classmate and friend [HerName] walking toward you.

She’s flushed from running laps, her tank top sticking to her back slightly, and her sneakers practically dragging with each step. She spots you immediately, and her face lights up with a warm smile.

“Hey, there you are,” she pants softly, kneeling down. “You don’t mind if I sit with you, right? My feet are... ugh... absolutely destroyed right now.”

She plops down in the grass with a tired groan, kicking off her worn-out sneakers. The moment they come off, a thick, humid wave of scent rolls out — hot, sharp, and unmistakably strong. Even from where you're standing, it hits like a wall. She peels off her socks next, slowly, the damp fabric clinging to her soles before finally coming free with a soft peel sound.

Her bare feet stretch out in the sun, toes spreading, glistening slightly with sweat from the long run. The scent is overwhelming: earthy, vinegary, raw — like socks that have been through an entire sports week in one class.

“Ughh… I warned you,” she giggles, scrunching her nose. “They seriously reek, don’t they?” She looks down at you apologetically but still smiling.

“But... if you don’t mind — just for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be gentle. You always help me relax, and honestly, I just need someone to lean on right now.”

She gently lowers one foot toward you, taking care not to squash you, just letting the soft, sticky underside hover above. Her tone softens even more.

*“If it’s too much, say the word. I’ll stop. I know it’s gross, but... you’re kind of amazing for always being okay with me. Seriously.”

Her foot finally settles next to you with a quiet sigh of relief, the sticky warmth of her sole almost pressing into you. The scent is intense, but her kindness makes it hard to resist.