TRAPPED IN HEATHER'S ROOM
By Jake Van Meter, from an original plot by Jeff Vilencia



"Are we all really only one inch tall, Fred?" Jeffrey asked as he looked at their surroundings.

Jeffrey, the newest pledge member of the nerdiest fraternity in Bucks College, shook off the effects of the drastic shrinking his body had undergone. Excitement mixed with fright flooded his whirling mind. Every man here was buck naked because their clothes hadn't reduced with them.

"You better b-b-believe it, man. We are down there! It's been ex-xactly onehalf-hour since we left the reduction f-f-field at the la-lab. I measured us at j-just three feet tall when we were picking Heather's lock."

"Yeah, man, and no more than twelve inches at the staircase," Jack added. "I wore out my arms boostin' up those stairs."

Fred and Jack, the fraternity's senior leaders, rounded up their strike force of fifteen first-year pledges. As this year's initiation, Fred and Jack thought this raid was ideal. The rest of Bucks College considered the Phe Phi Pho's hopeless nerds. But after news of this sneak-in scare-raid of Bucks' bitchiest ballbuster coed got around campus, people's opinions would change damn fast!

"Excellent, d-d-dudes, we made it!" Fred exclaimed.

Excitement worsened his chronic stutter. "The new reduction coil worked like ga-gangbusters."

"Yeah, man, Heather's gonna get the scare of her life when we run out from under her own bed and freak her out," Jack said with a snarl.

"Fuckin' ice queen's a slob too, I see," he continued, peering at forgotten socks and other discarded laundry scattered beneath her bed. Jack was not successful with girls, a trait shared by most of the Phe Phi Pho members, and his bitterness showed.

"Hey, how long before this effect wears off, Fred?" asked Jeffrey.

"We've g-got two hours of playtime, fellows, b-b-before we pop back to full-size. S-she's gonna freak out when she sees m-men the size o' bugs ch-chasin' her around her floor," Fred said, then grew serious. "Okay, listen up men, s-she's gonna be comin' through that d-door any minute now, so get to your places."

Jeffrey turned and jogged to the edge of the great mattress which stretched overhead. This was terrific! He'd always dreamed of this fantasy. Jeffrey had a crush on Heather ever since he saw her practicing karate with her chicana friend Maria in the Bucks' College gym. But then, what male didn't? She was a natural athlete, a phys-ed major who worked her magnificent 6'4" body tirelessly. Her voluptuous 50EE breasts were the talk of every male on campus. So was her ability to outrun the track team and bench press more than most on the football team. Heather knew she was a long-legged goddess and lost no chance to intimidate and humiliate any male she met. Jeffrey just couldn't get enough of looking at her. He tried conversations with her at every pretext. He always managed to sit right behind her in classes and daydreamed he was an insect privileged to crawl close to her feet. There he'd enjoy her immensity from all angles, safe from discovery because of his tiny size.

She always wore open-toe high-heels which elevated her further. Her feet were as lovely as the rest of her, tanned and smooth with long beautiful toes and perfectly-polished toenails. Sometimes in his fantasies, after some particularly daring adventure up on her shoe sole, he might become trapped under one of her toes and slowly, rapturously feel himself flatten as he looked up at her serene face far above and fought for the air between her toes. The daydream was a slow, erotic experience, cut short by the bell signalling end of class. But, until now, Heather showed only contempt for Jeffrey's advances. "Get away from me, you little dweeb," was her most encouraging reply so far.

x x x

Jeffrey had barely reached his position under the edge of the mattress when a muffled series of thumps vibrated through the floor, louder with each shock. Jeffrey felt the shaking through the soles of his bare feet. Suddenly alarmed, he crouched down and peered out across the vast bedroom. The thumps came from beyond Heather's bedroom door, up the staircase from her living room below.

"I think th-that's her, men!" Fred piped excitedly. When it seemed that the impacts could not become more violent, they paused, just outside her 50-story high bedroom door. Two hundred feet up the cabin-sized doorknob turned. The door pushed open with a sucking rush of air. The cold breeze that played about Jeff's ankles immediately became a gale that whipped his hair and chilled him to the bone. But what he saw next froze him far more than the wind.

Heather stood in the doorway, dressed in jogging shorts and a red tank-top, breathing deeply. Her stylish running shoes hit the carpet with floor-shuddering impacts. Her long, muscular calves and tanned thighs soared up into the vault of her bedroom like lithe striding towers. Above, the tank-top stretched almost to bursting by her huge perfect bosom that swayed heavily within it. A long honey-blond ponytail hung below her shoulders. One golden lock stuck to her forehead by a bit of perspiration. Turning, she shouted down the staircase.

"I'll just be a minute, Maria. I'm going to get out of these sweats and take a quick shower. Popcorn's in the microwave, and beer's in the fridge. I'll be right down."

Heather turned and walked to her bed. Her running shoes, as big as yachts, lifted high into the air and crashed onto the carpet heading straight for Jeffrey. Her strides were slow-motion to his tiny speeded-up senses. Jeffrey had daydreamed about this moment. But she was so big! The reality of her size overwhelmed him. A tide of panic surged through him and he staggered quickly backward under the bed, gasping, sure she had seen him. He knew he was too slow to avoid her crushing step if she had. This was no daydream. Death, he now saw, could be fast and final.

At the bedside she turned and sat heavily. Above Jeffrey's head the bedsprings squealed with the sudden strain of her vast weight. The mattress bulged downward alarmingly toward him. Before his eyes, Heather's hands appeared and began untying her shoelaces. It was done in a moment, and her hands disappeared again.

Jeff's heart beat like a triphammer. But his fear mixed with a surge of lustful excitement. Here was the moment he had waited for! Heather, this girl of his obsessive fantasies, was now a mighty giantess sitting above him. Her perspiration-soaked stockinged feet rested only inches away, filling the air thickly with the humid aroma of her beautiful sweaty feet. How could she know that more than a dozen little voyeurs watched as she slowly pushed one shoe off at the heel, then the other. Heather reached down again and deftly removed first one, then the other sock, throwing them in a heap beside her feet. She flexed her long pretty toes as she sat, raised up on tiptoe and then down. She curled, then straightened them out again, then raised her heels high in the air as she rested her weight on the balls of her feet. Her plump wrinkled soles hovered over Jeff enticingly. Her mighty arches were only yards away from him. He could run out and kiss and lick them right now. Her slightest backward movement would, however, squash his body into the carpet like an unnoticed gnat.

Humming to herself in busy solitude above, Heather removed her tank-top and bra. She raised her feet to tiptoe, and Jeffrey saw the undersides of ten long plump toes presented to him.

Now was his chance! He could stand to wait no longer. Even if he endangered himself, he would smell and taste her voluptuous toes from a closeness more intimate than he had ever dreamed possible. With a gasp of pleasure he reached the end of her long second toe. The treads of her toeprints, each as wide as his thumb, curved gracefully in long arcs before him, and their heat radiated seductively to his chilly body. He touched her toe softly with his fingertips, then reached his arms wide and hugged the mighty toetip gently.

Her athletic sweat was copious. It wet his body warmly wherever he touched her. Its salty musk made his head reel with the intense smell. He licked gingerly, then with greater abandon. Caution forgotten, he lay down on his back in the gap between her big and second toes and, raising up his face, licked their musky wetness. I don't care if she squashes me, he thought. This is just how I'd want to die. Heather shifted her weight in small constant movements, twisting her toes slightly as she busied herself. Above, he could see the undersides of her enormous breasts bobbling in the sky with her movements. The thrill of danger was foremost in Jeffrey's mind. But it only heightened his intense lust for her.

As Jeffrey continued licking and sucking between Heather's toes, he suddenly felt them enclose him and lift him rapidly. Panic seized him. The pink smelly walls of Heather's toes now clasped his bug-size body firmly. His stomach lurched into his throat. He was turned and shaken from side to side by her idle movements--caught between her toes like unnoticed lint. The next instant she cast him spinning through the air. He somersaulted dizzily and plowed head-first into her damp socks. By a miracle he had not been squeezed to death between her toes or flattened beneath her pretty feet.

Jeffrey wobbled to his knees atop the high pile. Where were the other guys? But Fred saw him first.

"Hey, Jeffrey, what're ya doin' up there? Run around in front of her and give her a scare!" Fred shouted from his position about a hundred feet away.

"Yeah, man, let's go," Jack yelled. "We're sendin' team two around on this side. One, two, three, go!" Immediately three men, Lester in the lead, ran out toward the carpet in front of Heather's immense feet.

Shivering, now deprived of Heather's luxuriant body heat, Jeff huddled into the midst of her still-warm socks. Jack and Fred were crazy! He'd just tangled with Heather and knew what bugs they all really were. Let the other guys try to scare her. He'd watch the outcome from right here.

Heather completed her tasks. She lifted her feet, twirled them provocatively at the ankles. Before the three men could get in front of Heather, she stood up and strolled slowly toward her bureau. Hopelessly outdistanced in a moment by her hundred-fifty foot strides, they ran doggedly after her receding heels. The floor shook under them from her tread as they ran.

Heather, already across the room, momentarily regarded her perfect body in the full-length mirror. A slight motion down on the carpet caught her eye. She peered closer. Damn! she mused, smiling. The little nerds did come, just like Maria said. This is going to be fun!

With a thrill of fear the men saw her glance down at them. They began waving their arms and jumping.

"Keep waving your arms, guys!" Lester prompted, a little out of breath from his run. "We're gonna freak this big bitch out so bad she'll jump outta her skin!"

"Hey, Lester, we're waving but she's just staring at us. Jezuz, she's tall as a mountain!" cautioned one of his two followers. "Now she's smiling, Lester."

"Goddamn, Lester, she's walkin' towards us," shouted the second fraternity man. "This plan ain't workin' out. I'm gettin' outta here!" He turned tail and began to streak back toward the bed. Heather's vast form loomed over them. Lester craned his neck up and saw her look down on him, a wicked smile playing about her beautiful lips.

"Well just look at all the lit-tle bit-ty bugs. Now, what is great big Heather going to do to a bunch of creepy little peeping toms? Should she just step on them?" her musings thundered down to their tiny ears.

Lester's jaw dropped. He stopped waving his arms and just stared up at her towering mass. How had she known who they ? Sudden cold fear gripped his bowels. She wouldn't really harm them?

Excitement was unmistakeable in her voice. "That's just what Heather's going to do," she declared coldly.

The next instant all Lester and his companion could see was her huge pink footsole darken their sky as it descended on them. Lester stumbled backward in horror, and fell. Instinctively, he threw up one feeble arm as if to ward off his fate. His slower-witted friend simply stared up in disbelief. They saw every wrinkle and fold of her titanic footsole as it came down on them like a horrible dream.

The ball of Heather's left foot slammed directly into Lester's pale body. His corpse flattened instantly to a shapeless starburst of squirting guts that she pushed down into the carpet. His friend, a few feet away, felt himself intolerably crushed from the chest down. His head and neck extended into the dark space beneath her toes. His head thumped around and around as she twisted her foot brutally. He briefly saw the darkness spin before his body exploded in unspeakable agony. His eyes swelled from their sockets. Guts and gore spewed from his open mouth.

"Gotcha!" Heather crowed happily. Without further thought of the dead men, she stood on their remains and raised her other foot over the last fleeing victim. The sobbing little nerd ran for his life but he was amusingly slow. Her giant foot swept through the air and easily overtook him. As if sensing his peril he turned, looking back for a moment. His last frightful sight was of Heather's looming big toe descending onto him. "No! Don't!" he wailed, unwilling to die so easily.

But, for him also, it was too late. The pad of her enormous toe slammed into his chest like a truck that drove him back-first into the carpet. In final overwhelming pain he felt his body crush beneath her toe, as she drew it back, into a tiny boneless ball that smeared a pulpy stain behind. Heather backed a pace and observed her destruction. Three small corpses fouled her carpet. She tilted her feet exposing the soles and there, too, their gore oozed red.

"Icky little bug-guts," she giggled. Then she cast her gaze about the floor. "Any more of you little creeps down there? Heather's big feet are going to get yoo-ou, too-oo!"

x x x

Lester was dead. His two companions were dead. Heather had squashed them without hesitation, like bugs. Jeffrey cowered in panic atop her socks. Above, Heather gave a last scrutiny. "Well, if there're no more of you, I guess I'll take my shower now."

Jeffrey burrowed frantically into Heather's damp sock until at last he could go no further. He found himself inside the space where her long sweaty toes had been just minutes before. The smell was strong here, delicately cheesy, like an athletic girl's healthy sweat. He found he could peer out between the giant threads and see Heather, now bathing herself in her glass-walled shower. From Jeffrey's tiny floor-view perspective, she towered up like a skyscraper into the cavernous bath. Jeffrey's stomach knotted. How casually she had killed three men!

He did some quick mental arithmetic. His six-foot body was now one inch tall. Heather was seventy-six inches tall. That made her--by his scale--seventy-six times six feet, or 456 feet tall. And, let's see, her giantess weight was now--this was a tougher calculation, although he had often done similar ones--about 373,000 times her normal one hundred ninety pounds, or--he gulped, his face turning pale--over seventy million pounds. This lovely girl, so gracefully bathing her big muscular body fully within his view, weighed a fantastic thirty-five thousand tons!

"Jeffrey! W-where are you, man?" Fred shouted nearby.

"Maybe the crazy bitch got him too, Fred," Jeffrey heard Jack add hysterically.

"I'm here, in Heather's sock," Jeffrey shouted back. "I'm hiding here so she won't see me."

"C-c'mon Jack, let's get in th-there with Jeffrey. This b-b-bitch Heather's gonna s-see us too." Within moments the two frat leaders and six men following their lead had joined Jeffrey in Heather's smelly sock. Five other men had bolted in fright to unknown hiding places.

"Great thinkin', Jeffrey," Jack admitted. "That cunt's too big a pig to bother with her socks. She'll never find us in here."

Heather opened her shower door and stepped out onto her bathmat. As the men watched she towelled herself slowly, moving with practiced ease. She gently lifted one perfect breast and towelled beneath, then set it back and lifted the other. She passed the towel between her breasts and along her hard abdomen, pausing to dab away the water in her tight navel. She shifted her weight to one foot while she raised the other to tiptoe and matter-of-factly towelled it from crotch to instep in motions fluid as a ballerina. Fnished, she transferred the towel to the other leg, tending momentarily to her lovely muff with the same casual care she gave the rest of her goddess body.

Heather turned, her bath completed. Before the men could think of their danger, she approached the bed. Her beautiful feet, far above Jeffrey's eyes, rose into the air slowly, like a graceful dance, and came down slowly. They crashed onto the carpet, however, with a force that rattled the men's teeth and shook the floor under them. Her slow, giantess-like pace brought her the quarter-mile from the bathroom to her bed in three or four seconds.

As Jeffrey watched in dawning horror, she stood over them. Her eyes peered straight at her socks.

"About time I picked this place up a little," she said aloud. She reached down. Her hand suddenly grew huge in the sky as it lowered toward them.

"Jeezus, we gotta get out of this sock!" cried Jack. The men thrashed around trying to locate the way out of the suddenly imprisoning sock-tunnel. Their scramble was so panic-stricken that they didn't hear Heather's sudden intake of breath. But before they could scramble halfway out of her sock they felt it lift from the top, and they tumbled free-fall back to the toe. Sock and all, they were rising like a rocket into the air. Too late, he thought wildly. I hope we're going into her hamper, and not the washing machine. Goddamn this sock, why did I get into it? Now she'll kill us!

The sock suddenly stopped. The men kept ascending for a dozen feet more, then crashed back in a bruising tangle into the toe. Jeffrey was dazed.

"My leg's broke!" wailed one of the younger frats.

"So's my arm," groaned another. The men felt themselves swinging like a pendulum.

Opening one bruised eye, Jeffrey peered out through the dangling sock. Heather's blue eyes were level with his, her mouth open in gleeful surprise. She jerked the sock up and down a few more times. Again, the men tumbled helplessly in the toe of her sock.

Jeffrey's abused stomach could take no more of this. "Heather!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Heather! Please, let us out. Don't shake us any more, please! Heaaa-therrr!"

Heather smiled wickedly. "Terrific," she whispered, "there're more of them!" She tied a deft knot into the sock, then tossed it onto her bed. "Well, you aren't getting out, that's for sure."

No mouse was ever caught as easily as eight men of the Phe Phi Pho Fraternity had just been.

Wasting no time, Heather donned a black leather miniskirt. A lace-front black bodice was next, barely containing her abundant bosom. She rolled black fishnet hose onto her long, beautiful legs and stepped into black stiletto-heeled sandals that buckled at the ankles. Reaching up, she loosened her golden hair into a cascade below her shoulders. Within minutes she was back at the bed, diabolically beautiful as Jeff had never seen her before.

Bending over the bed, she picked up the top of the sock between thumb and forefinger. "I'm taking you downstairs. Whoever you twitchy little men are, I'm going to let Maria share the fun of squashing you!" Her laughter rang evilly.

The men were stiff with panic. They had seen their friends murdered like insects beneath this giantess's bare feet. And they had just heard their own deaths pronounced. Their bodies collided helplessly in the sock as Heather, bouncing it casually, stepped lightly down the stairs.

x x x

Maria sat on the sofa, her leather sandals discarded nearby. Her big latina left heel was planted on the massive glass-topped coffee table. The other foot was on the carpet below. One thick hand held a beer while the other groped in a bowl of popcorn. On TV, American Gladiators absorbed her attention.

Heather strode over and dangled the sock before Maria's eyes. "Look, I've got something here for you. If it bites, I'd rather it gets you than me!" She untied the sock and dumped its contents onto the coffee table beside Maria's huge brown foot. Small, white wormlike creatures rolled violently across the glass and thumped into her thick heel.

"Huh? What're them things, bugs?" Maria, slow to startle, peered densely at the dazed little forms lying helpless beside her enormous foot. "They're those frat boys!" she slurred, her mouth full of popcorn. "Told ya they were comin. Gonna squash' em."

She lifted her immense fat heel. It hovered over the white shapes, pausing to take aim before she sent it crashing down onto their tiny prostrate forms.

x x x

Jeffrey came rolling out of Heather's sock at terrific speed and crashed into a soft but unyielding wall. Momentarily knocked senseless, he awoke to feel a cold glass surface beneath his throbbing back. He opened his eyes. He was on Heather's coffee table. Straight above him, like a dusky blimp, hovered Maria's immense latina heel. It was about to come crashing down on him.

"Oh shit, jump!" Jeffrey heard Jack scream. Maria's last words rang in his ears. She was going to squash them!

Jeffrey twisted to his feet and raced for the edge of the table, moving with the speed of desperation. Behind him, running footsteps told him the others were too far behind to make it. How far down was the carpet? Could he survive if he jumped? They'd squash him up here if he didn't try.

"Get them, Maria! They're getting away!" Heather shouted gaily.

Jeffrey leaped off the coffee table. He plummeted, gasping, down toward the base of the sofa. The fall, only eighteen inches or so, was interminable to his speeded-up senses, as if it really were the hundred feet his eyes perceived. But the impact, when it came, was soft. Jeffrey sprawled awkwardly on the pile carpet beside Maria's right foot, sprang up and sprinted behind her heel. Safe! Unless the giantesses moved the big sofa, they'd never get him now.

Above him, six other fraternity men scurried back and forth helplessly on the coffee table. One lay injured with a fractured leg. Maria's fat heel came down. It landed directly onto the injured man's prone body full-force. Blood and viscera exploded in a little star-shape across the glass. The impact also crushed another's legs. His tiny body convulsed wildly in agony.

"Aaaagghhh, please no, don't hurt me any more," he screamed, trying to crawl. "Pleeease, oh god don't hurt me."

Maria's huge brown heel lifted and descended on him again. His skull and chest flattened with a satisfying little crunch. His squashed organs splattered violently and mixed with the other man's mess.

"Shut that little plasta up," Maria declared gaily.

Under the couch, Jeffrey paced frantically behind Maria's titanic right foot. He wept in the darkness. His naked body shivered with cold and panic. The girls apparently hadn't seen him jump. Above him, visible through the inch-thick clear glass, his doomed friends scurried about like frenzied cockroaches. Maria's left heel, gore-splashed, still rested atop two corpses squashed to pieces by her titan's weight. She wasn't curious enough about their fates to move it.

Jeff heard Maria's giant voice. "I toldya they were comin', Heather! I overheard those little roosters talking about it in the campus quad yesterday. Let's make 'em tell us how they did this shrinking bit. I know lots of machos I'd like to shrink down, man."

"Maria, that's a terrific idea!" Heather said. Turning to the surviving tiny men, she raised one mighty sandled foot and slammed it down on the tabletop inches from their bodies. The impact knocked them down where they stood. She tapped her foot imperiously. "I can squash you all in a second, you pathetic little worms. But first, you're going to show me how you shrunk yourselves. Do you understand?" To emphasize her point, she reached down with her fingertip and flicked one hapless little man toward her sandal. He flew through the air and landed with a skid on his back. She raised her sandal and hovered it over his dazed form, then slowly brought it down until she just felt it contact his soft little chest. She saw his face turn red, and heard minute, dreadful groans of pain burst from his compressing lungs.

"How about it, fellows? Who's going to come forward and tell me all about it?" She leaned slightly more weight onto her victim. He rewarded her with a burst of vomit from his gaping mouth. He couldn't breathe. His red face rapidly turned purple. "Going, going," Heather taunted. "Don't know how much longer your friend's going to last."

The little college nerd looked straight up from where he lay pinned beneath Heather's toes. His chin just cleared her shoesole. Far above, her smiling face gazed down on him between her big toe and her long second toe, framed through the stretched net hose just above his face.

Fred arose, wringing his hands. "Stop!" he wailed.

"Gone," Heather breathed with cruel finality. Her pretty toes, so gigantic before their tiny eyes, flexed a moment, then pressed their weight onto her little victim. Immediately the man's imploring eyes and swollen tongue extruded out of his face followed by jets of blood and internal organ. The now-familiar crunch of a man's collapsing skeleton resounded ominously to the horrified survivors. Heather had pushed his corpse flat against the glass. She slowly lifted and lowered her long toes before their gaze, methodically pulping her minute victim.

Slowly, she lifted up her shoe. The man's squashed torso stuck firmly to her shoesole. His mashed legs swung limply in the shadow as she rocked her foot idly. She glanced at Fred.

"Are you stepping over to join him, honey?" she said sweetly, pretending to misunderstand Fred's futile effort to save his friend. Loosened by her swaying foot, the nerd's flattened corpse peeled slowly off and landed with a sodden thud into the bloody pool below.

Fred fainted. Jack, staring at the dead man, huddled near. The three other men screamed and began to run in mindless panic about the tabletop. Maria stood up and stepped onto the heavy glass, which groaned but held. The running men toppled again. Immense brown feet walled them in.

"Stay put, you little insectos," Maria snarled.

They cowered back around Fred and quivered in fright as they gaped at her fat toes and thick ankles towering above them.

"Man, I wanna squash 'em really bad, Heather," she pleaded, appealing to her chuckling friend. To demonstrate she lifted one thick foot and moved it over the tiny group. The terrified fraternity men cringed down in her shadow. They could smell her damp toes as she wiggled them above their heads.

"Tell you what, Maria," Heather said coolly. "I'll take these for me, and you can have the others, okay?" She selected Fred and Jack with a hooked finger and dragged their bodies across the glass.

"Thanks, Heather!" Maria said gratefully. "Hey, look at this. I'm gonna do foot exercises!" She carefully lowered her immense toes onto the three screaming men. Curling them, she captured one by his head and shoulders. He rose, kicking, thirty feet into the air as she pivoted her foot up from her planted heel. She swung the man back and forth. A horrifying gurgle emerged from within her clenched toes as his legs flailed violently high in the air. Lowering her foot, she tilted her sole and clasped the man's exposed legs with the equally smelly toes of her other foot. "I'm playin' the accordion, Heather!" she declared. As she mimicked the instrument her thick toes moved back and forth, in and out. The man's enfolded carcass stretched and bent unnaturally. It crunched and squashed. His gurgling ceased. Within moments, he fell apart. Ragged clumps of gory tissue and loose bone fell to the glass. Crimson splattered down onto his petrified companions.

Maria waved his tattered halves, almost buried within her clenched toes, about like happy little flags. "These're better than the bugs we squashed when we was kids," she said with a giggle, observing her ensanguinated feet. "Look how juicy they are!"

Heather warmed to her friend's enthusiasm. She looked down at Fred and Jack. "You two little creeps better come up with some fast answers about how you shrank yourselves before I do to you what Maria's doing to her bunch." She lowered her foot from the table and kneeled beside it, resting her forearms on its surface. Her formidable bosom, about to burst its laced restraints, joggled menacingly above their transfixed gazes.

"Godammit, Fred, tell her quick," Jack screamed, "or these maniac bitches will kill us all."

Fred gulped silently like a beached fish, his eyes goggled with fright. "La-lab's got a morph-, morph-, a field..." He mumbled into silence.

Jack finished for him. "A morphogenetic field modification coil," he shouted at the top of his lungs. "It's at the biophysics lab. Jesus, you'd never understand that thing. Even we don't know exactly how it works. You punch in a reduction factor, get into it, and you get zapped. You start to shrink. It's simple. Works only with living tissue. Takes fifteen minutes. Lasts two hours, then you revert to normal size."

Heather appraised them for a moment. "Oh, I don't think so. Now that I know your secret, you poor little geeks don't have two hours," she thundered down menacingly. "It's play time. Oooh, you don't want to miss your chance to play with big Heather, do you? Everybody loves Heather." She reached up and untied the knotted lace at the top of her bodice. Immediately the garment parted. Her huge firm breasts, now free of their confinement, plummeted onto the glass with an awesome rumble within inches of the minuscule men.

"How d'you like these babies?" she inquired coyly. "Aren't they just the biggest things you ever saw?" She slipped her hands under the mammoth breasts, lifted them up, and set them down to either side of the little men.

"Here they come!" she warned. When she let them go, they settled together. Two walls of warm mammary flesh, each twenty feet high, engulfed Fred and Jack. Heather could feel the buried men struggling. She laughed at the tickling sensation as she slowly stood up. She retied her bodice, with Fred and Jack entombed within her mighty bosom.

Maria had, meanwhile, not been idle. She held up one hapless man, his head pinched between her fat thumb and forefinger. "Heather, grab this guy's legs and we'll pull 'im apart!"

Forgetting completely about her own tiny victims, Heather obliged, grabbing both legs between her own thumb and finger. The man's pleading screams served only to excite the women further. Each began to tug gently on his body. In her excitement, Maria's big thumb squeezed his skull. The head crushed alarmingly to a flattened ovoid. His eyes and tongue squirted out. Brain tissue followed, extruded like toothpaste from his nose and eyesockets. Not noticing the death she had already dealt, she gave his head a slow twist, turning it completely around on its neck. Tortured cervical vertebrae separated from his skull with grating crunches. His neck immediately stretched a foot, like rotten rope, as Heather maintained her tug on his legs.

"Ready, Heather?" Maria asked, her eyes dancing with excitement. "One, two, three, pull!" The girls laughed and yanked simultaneously.

Maria looked down at her fingers. "Hey, all I got was his head," she said. "You got all the rest."

"Here," said Heather, "share with me." She dangled the stretched corpse by one leg. Its ragged neck streamed red. Both thigh bones had pulled from their sockets, as had both knee joints, making the body flop unnaturally. Maria dropped the crushed head and grasped his free leg.

"Now, make a wish, Maria!" Heather exclaimed, and again the girls yanked the mangled carcass. This time Maria got the biggest piece; Heather was left pinching only a leg and thigh.

"I won, I won," Maria crowed, waving the corpse about by its remaining leg. It also promptly detached. The legless torso smashed against a nearby wall with a wet splat and fell to the carpet.

"Man, these little bastards must be made of shit. They fall apart too easy. Well, who's next?" Maria continued brightly, dropping the leg at her feet.

One lone man crouched shivering in a sob of fear amid the puddles of pulp and detached body parts that had been his fraternity brothers. He looked up furtively at his gigantic feminine tormentors. So recently he had regarded them, with typical male ego, as silly bitches who could be frightened by mouse-sized men. Now he saw them as all-powerful titanesses. He knew they meant to include his fragile life in their orgy of destruction--and their physical power over him was beyond any defense.

"Your turn, cucaracha!" Maria murmered fiercely. "Crawl between my toes and start licking. Make sure you clean 'em good too." She thumped her enormous left foot down before him and spread her thick brown toes.

Trembling violently like a man who knew his death was imminent, he trudged fatalistically toward the proferred toes. Surprisingly, she let him walk between her big and second toes and begin licking their pungent walls without violence. She merely observed from on high while he accomplished what he was bid. He ran his little tongue full-length to as high as he could reach on tiptoe, licking in the wrinkles and creases. He dutifully worked his way to the end of the canyon, where the toes met, and diligently continued his careful consumption where the sweaty deposits were especially cheesy.

Maria looked at Heather with a smile. "Now this is how I like my men. Should I keep him around for a while to do this for me? His little tongue kinda tickles!"

"Forget it, girl," Heather reasoned. "He'd pop back full-size in an hour or so if he lived. Besides, we've got a world full of little men like him we can shrink, now that we know how they did it."

"Yep, you're right," Maria agreed, and clamped the man between her toes where he stood licking. She squeezed, squashing him in a second. As she opened her toes again, a dreadful groan escaped his lips. He collapsed, mortally crushed, into a blood-drenched heap on the glass. She rolled his ruined body around beneath her toes until he stopped crunching. When he was merely a little sphere of meat, she placed the ball of her bare sole onto him and stepped down.

x x x

Jeffrey looked up through the glass, from his hiding place below, in abject horror. Casually Maria concluded the tiny murder of her last humiliated victim. He watched Maria's sole literally mash the man's balled-up body into fragments against the glass within a crimson puddle of separating guts and splintering bone. Nearby, the crushed and dismembered carcasses of four other men littered Heather's glass tabletop. He had to return to Heather's bedroom, Jeffrey reasoned crazily, and rejoin the five fraternity friends who hadn't been captured. He just could not remain alone in this mad scene.

"Maria, would you be a dear and clean up this mess?" Heather asked sweetly, indicating the coffee table. Jeffrey looked over at Heather's gigantic spike-heeled feet standing on the carpet two hundred feet away at the end of the coffee table. "Just grind them in the garbage disposal. I'm going upstairs and change again. We're visiting that campus lab tonight to look for that coil thing the little bastards were talking about."

Jeffrey's heart thudded. The girls were absorbed with excitement at what they had done to their helpless male victims. Would they see him if he could somehow hitch a ride upstairs on one of Heather's huge sandals? He ran beneath the couch to a spot only twenty feet or so from her net-stockinged little toe. He had to run now if he were to make it! Sprinting at a dead run, Jeffrey leaped atop Heather's sandal-sole and grabbed a loose bit of net stocking near her right little toe. The string was thick as anchor hawsers in his lilliputian grasp. Her giant toes smelled delectably of perfume.

At that instant she raised her gigantic foot and turned to take a step toward the stairs. Jeffrey accelerated into the air as though he had grabbed a departing airliner. Pain shot through his shoulders. He fought to hang on. He could feel his feet slipping on her sandal top as her foot neared the top of its arc. Wind beat on his struggling face. He held on grimly. Heather's foot descended from her sixty yard pace. Panic gripped Jeffrey's guts as he saw the floor rise to meet her sandaled foot. The impact of her spike heel on the carpet was arm-wrenching. Then the ball of her foot pivoted down thirty feet and slammed into the carpet. Jeffrey's left hand slipped from its grasp and he spun around, hanging only by his right hand. His back slammed against her toe. His left arm slapped against hard leather--and hung on. Her sandal strap!

Heather's titanic right foot momentarily crushed the carpet with her full weight. Beyond, her left foot described its own great arc up into the sky. He could waste no time securing his hold. Slipping his left arm under the strap, Jeffrey quickly wedged his legs between it and her little toe, just as a second shuddering crash announced the completion of her other footstep. As her right foot rose again, Jeffrey exulted. He was safe!

Heather's teeth-shattering footsteps across the carpet and up the staircase proved, however, a nightmare whirl of pain and buffeting wind. Every crashing impact of Heather's right foot flexed her little toe against the sandal-strap. The intense pressure squeezed Jeffrey's legs almost to bursting. He lost count of her steps. The monstrous staircase was a dizzying series of plateaus and vertical cliffs that dropped away below his nauseated gaze. His rapidly ebbing strength alarmed him. Could he survive this giantess's ride?

At last, Jeffrey saw Heather's bed approach. He had to get off her shoe now. This was the footstep! He dragged his legs from under the strap and clung to the net with faltering grip. Her heel crashed down. The jarring impact was too much for his weakened hands. His grasp tore loose and, accelerated by her motion, he crashed headlong into the carpet.

Heather's sandal-sole slammed down inches from his unconscious body. The carpet compressed beneath her unthinkable weight. His slack form rolled down the angled slope of the pressed-down nap. It hit her sole just as she lifted it again. Her rising sandal kicked him up, like an unnoticed bit of trash, into a pinwheel arc through the air. Jeffrey's abused body then crashed brutally into the padded rug and rolled limply to a stop beneath her bed.

x x x

"Is he alive, Benny?" asked a voice from the darkness.

"He's breathing. His head's pretty messed up," answered Benny. "Those legs look kinda smashed, too. I guess Heather's no easy ride."

Jeffrey felt strong hands grab his arms and drag him along the carpet. He opened his eyes, wincing against the throb of pain in his head. "They killed everybody," he croaked. "Everybody's dead. It was horrible. We're all that's left."

"He's out of his head," Benny declared gravely. "Poor Jeffrey." He looked at his friends. "I don't believe him, guys, Heather can't be that mean. I told you, she just mistook Lester and his guys for bugs, that's all. I still say we've gotta try to contact her and explain our situation. She'll get us outta this mess."

"Damn, d'you see that getup she's wearing?" said Al, a skinny young frat who'd never made a secret of his infatuation for Heather. "Jeez, what a knockout she is!" The others eagerly nodded assent.

Heather had moved to her closet and was choosing an outfit. As they watched, she stooped and picked up a pair of shoes by their heel straps. She returned to the bed and set the shoes down with a thump not fifty feet from the naively lovestruck men. They were red leather sling-back high heels, with narrow straps criss-crossing the instep.

"Those shoes are perfect for my plan," exclaimed Benny. "I'm gonna run out there and jump onto one of them. You guys stand nearby. When we wave our arms and run around, she can't miss seeing us. Let's go, guys!"

"No! Don't go out there!" Jeffrey wailed feebly through his pain. But the five men had dashed from under the bed. As he watched in dismay, Benny was already clambering with some difficulty up the sandal sole to the broad open platform where Heather's beautiful foot would soon rest. Heather stood nearby, arranging her new clothing on the bed. She turned and sat down. Above Jeffrey's head, the bedsprings squealed and compressed beneath her vast tonnage. One net-stockinged foot lifted up, out of his sight. When it descended, her perfect red toenails again twinkled in the light, bare of sandal and stocking. She removed the other sandal and stocking also, then stood up.

Four men of the Phe Phi Pho Fraternity danced about her feet, yelling and waving their arms for her attention. Benny danced on her right shoe. But they were too insignificant. Heather neither heard nor saw them, intent as she was in removing her garments. She dropped the black leather skirt to the floor and stepped out of it. The heavy garment slammed down onto two of the tiny men. They were lost from sight beneath it.

"Oh jeez, no," whispered Jeffrey. He hitched himself by his elbows toward the light, out to the edge of the bed. The other two men halted their wild dancing and attempted vainly to lift the heavy leather garment towering above their heads. Benny, continuing his mad jig, hadn't noticed the catastrophe.

Above, Heather unlaced her black bodice. Her gigantic erect breasts sprang out of the garment, too firm and huge to be contained. Two tiny bodies dropped unnoticed from her chest. They hit the carpet a hundred feet away and bounced several feet into the air, limbs flailing limply. They crashed back to the nap. Heather had forgotten Fred and Jack. Nor had the giantess even noticed the smothered men fall.

Atop the shoe, Benny stopped his waving. He peered in confused alarm at the two dead men lying in front of Heather's toes. Then his puzzled gaze returned to Heather's lovely countenance almost five hundred feet above. Instantly, terror swept across his face. He crouched down and his arms went up. His jaw dropped to scream. But there was no time. The dark shadow swept low.

x x x

Heather hastily slipped her feet into her red sandals while she buttoned up her red hot pants. She noticed but didn't investigate the soft lump in her right sandal. She shifted weight to her right foot as she hooked the toe of her left sandal under the leather skirt on the floor. The lump beneath her right foot compressed with a tiny crunch, and disappeared. Her left sandal swept up the two men buried in the folds of her skirt, wedging them both between the ball of her bare foot and the sandal platform. She never felt their frightened squirmings.

She kicked the skirt across the floor toward the closet and set her left foot down again. When she shifted her weight something soft beneath her left foot also crunched to nothing. Again Heather paid no attention. She turned to the bed, preoccupied with pulling on her white tanktop.

x x x

The ghastly carnage before Jeffrey unnerved him completely. Were they all such insignificant vermin that the big girl couldn't even tell they were there? By her hasty, casual-seeming movements, Jeffrey knew that Heather hadn't even seen her most recent victims. Of course, he knew their fates would have been equally horrible had she discovered them. Why hadn't the fools listened to his warning? Heather, for so long his fantasy, again stood inches away. He stared from beneath the bed at her lovely, long toes and smooth, soft feet, so perfect in their beauty and so irresistible in their might. From his worm's view he saw her latest male victims ooze from beneath her gore-splashed toes and trickle unnoticed down the sides of her sandals. A movement out on the carpet caught Jeffrey's attention. Struggling to his feet, one tiny limping man lifted a groaning companion onto his back. He turned toward Jeffrey, stumbing erratically under his burden. But his journey of over forty yards led him directly between Heather's constantly shifting feet. With his legs ruined, there was nothing Jeffrey could do to help them. Miraculously, as the seconds passed, the struggling men neared Jeffrey's haven unscathed, although once Heather stepped down within five feet of them. At last, Jeffrey rose to his knees and advanced painfully into the light to assist the stumbling man with his burden.

x x x

Heather turned to leave her bedroom. One spike heel, tall as a three-story building and twelve inches across at its tip, swung around and slid to a stop. Thirty-five thousand tons of feminine weight crashed like a piledriver onto the tiny men. Heather had impaled Jeffrey cleanly through the chest onto her spike heel.

His last thoughts were clear as his body was pushed up the column by the two corpses beneath. He saw, as darkness closed in, straight up the red shaft to Heather's smooth pretty heel overhanging the sandal. Beneath him, the other men were even more horribly mutilated. One was crushed through at the lower spine and dangled precariously in two pieces. The other's head and upper chest had been mashed to pulp by the skidding heel. Their unnoticed bodies, spindled like grubs on Heather's spike, accompanied her and Maria as they left for their evening's adventures.