The apartment was dimly lit and there was a moistness in the air. Summer in New York City was known for its humidity, but inside of their apartment was something else. It was more like a creature’s lair, and its occupant didn’t care what the outside world thought of its way of life. There were empty cans of Mountain Dew and Pepsi spread out all across the maple wood flooring, and there were at least half as many empty cups of instant ramen. On the counter, the couch, and even in the bathroom there were paper bags and empty packages of every fast food joint in a 2-mile radius. The occupant clearly didn’t show any particular favoritism towards McDonald’s, Taco Bell, KFC, or any other company that made greasy, overprocessed food. In the sink was at least 6 days’ worth of dirty dishes. Also spread across the floor was the occupant’s dirty clothes. Sweat-soaked socks and underpants, shirts that had faintly turned yellow from being worn for several days. This person was clearly no fan of laundry.

Despite the lack of housekeeping, the occupant also had an evident love or merchandise, particularly for anime and video games. Posters and figurines were scattered across the apartment, across dusty shelves and held up by sticky tape. Hello Kitty, Pokemon, My Hero Academia, Tokyo Ghoul. This might have been Brooklyn, but it might as well have been the bedroom of a teenager from Tokyo.

The occupant of this filthy apartment was Michelle. She was 25 years old, unemployed, never attended college, and could only somehow keep up the rent due to the charity of her wealthy parents. She had very few friends outside of those that she played video games with online. Her hygiene left a lot to be desired, and due to a steady flow of junk food she had developed a somewhat of a belly, and was usually very lethargic. Although it was hardly special, or even a skill, but Michelle took pride in the fact that she rarely wore pants and would only do so when it was necessary. Typically, Michelle would lounge around the house wearing only her underwear and a pop-culture t-shirt of some kind.

Michelle didn’t have any enemies, but there were certainly people in her life that she wouldn’t mind exacting revenge on for being toxic to her. One person in particular was her landlord, a 47-year-old man named Oliver. He owned Michelle’s apartment and was making thousands of dollars a month through his investment property portfolio. The man had a headstrong personality and was always looking for the next business opportunity. As a result of being chronically stressed out, Oliver had developed a heart problem, on which he was recently prescribed the latest drug on the market to alleviate it. As much as Michelle disliked Oliver, the feeling was totally mutual. Oliver was a high achiever and saw himself as deserving of every penny to his name (saying nothing of the enormous inheritance he received from his late parents). Michelle was tardy, routinely forgot to pay rent, lazy, and had some really gross behaviours. He thought of Michelle as nothing more than a loser, totally overlooking the fact that they both came from wealthy families that afforded them the chance to live more comfortably than everybody else.

Two days had passed and Oliver had still not seen Michelle’s monthly rent payment arrive in his account. This was the 4th incident of this since Michelle moved in one year ago. It wasn’t enough for him to accept this as chronic forgetfulness and irresponsibility on Michelle’s part. Oliver was the type to see this as a direct attack. He, as the landlord, was entitled to that money. Who did Michelle think she was defying someone of his status like this? He took it upon himself to pay Michelle a visit and give her a long overdue talk. He would ensure that Michelle would never be a problem ever again.

Oliver drove his fancy Bentley to Brooklyn and parked outside the apartment building. He had a big grin on his face knowing what he was about to deliver and how satisfied he would soon feel. He knocked aggressively on Michelle’s door and waited.

“I’m coming!” she shouted out in an annoyed tone.

Oliver had the feeling Michelle had been woken up by his knocking, and it was already past midday. Pathetic, he thought to himself. Michelle opened the door and her appearance proved his suspicions correct. She was wearing a baggy Miku shirt that was several sizes too big for her and covered in stains. It may as well of been a dress. Rubbing the crust from her eyes, Michelle got an unpleasant awakening when she was that it was Oliver.

“We need to talk, Michelle. Right now. I don’t give a shit what you might have been doing. Let me in now.”

“Hope you’ve been having a pleasant day too, Oliver” Michelle said sarcastically. “Please, don’t let me keep you waiting.” She motioned her arm and Oliver entered the apartment. Immediately he was struck by the apparent stuffiness of the air. It’s like the windows had not been opened in a week. He was even more offended by the state of the apartment. It looked even worse than ever!

Michelle cracked open her first can of Mountain Dew of the day. While most would go for a warm cup of coffee, she breathed Mountain Dew like a fish breathed water. She offered Oliver a seat on a couch covered in dirty clothes and plastic bags. He waved his hand dismissively, knowing what he had to say wouldn’t take long.

“I’m evicting you, Michelle.”

Michelle almost choked on her drink and tried to collect herself. She looked panicked. “What? Why? Oliver, what the fuck did I do?!”

“What did you do?!” Oliver exclaimed, “You’ve missed your rent for the fourth time. If there’s going to be an issue paying it I need to know in advance! But I know you. I’ve dealt with enough losers like you to know you just fucking forgot.”

“Look, I’m really sorry, Oliver. I’ll pay it to you right now plus a little mo—”

“Not interested. I want you out by the end of the week.” Oliver said, looking stern.’’

Michelle said nothing. Instead, she was beginning to tear up. She had made this apartment her home, and now this big bully was about to take it away from her.

Oliver went on. “You’re pathetic. Look at you. No job, wasting time all day, you treat MY apartment like it’s a goddamn pigsty. Maybe this’ll be a lesson for you to take on a bit of responsibility in your life, but I doubt it’ll sink into that thick skull of yours. You’re 25, but act like you’re in middle school. How fucking sad…”

Michelle’s tears were turning into rage. He could have kept it professional and not turned it into such a personal attack. He doesn’t know her and what she’s been through.

*SLAAAAAAP*

She had given him a hard, well-deserved smack in the face. In the process she’d stumbled over a stray KFC box on the floor and spilled Mountain Dew all over Oliver’s custom-made suit. Some of it had even made its way to his now swelling face and into his mouth.

Oliver suddenly felt extremely disoriented. He had been slapped before, but he had never felt like this afterwards. This was more like being hit with a tranquilizer dart. Neither of them knew it, but Oliver’s heart medication had interacted with something in the Mountain Dew. As the sugary beverage dissolved in his saliva, a never-before-seen chemical reaction had already started to occur. Oliver’s muscles started to stretch and contract at lightning speed, and his vision had blurred to functional blindness. He started to panic, and he tried wailing for help but couldn’t seem to push any air out of his chest. All he could hope for was that Michelle wasn’t too stupid to fail to come to his aid.

Michelle looked on with bewilderment. Oliver was shrinking. At first it seemed like his clothes were growing, but as his hands withdrew into his sleeves and his head fell beneath his collar it became clear to her what was happening. Seemingly out of nowhere, Oliver was shrinking! She didn’t know how to respond. All she knew was that she couldn’t have imagined such a thing would have happened in her wildest dreams. The bundle of fancy clothes fell to the floor, and a quiet, high-pitched voice emanated from them. Before even getting a look at whatever was hidden inside of them, what used to be her tall landlord, she jumped to her front door and slammed it shut to keep recent events hidden from curious eyes.

Oliver was panicking, his world dark and overheated. He struggled to breathe and he couldn’t seem to escape his fabric prison. Suddenly, he felt it all shifting around. Petrified, he brought himself into the fetal position and waited for whatever was going to happen to unfold. He hoped things wouldn’t worsen as he was now experiencing the most terrifying moment of his entire life. He could see again as soon as Michelle lifted his suit away and picked him out from inside of his shoes, which now seemed like a bus to him. It dawned on Oliver. He had been shrunk, and looking down at him curiously with a lot less concern than the situation warranted was Michelle, the tenant who he had just called a loser and evicted.

“Well, well, well…” Michelle said to him, her voice now seeming several octaves lower and echoing from Oliver’s point-of-view. “Looks like the big powerful man isn’t what he thought he was… not anymore…”

Oliver really didn’t like the visible joy Michelle was getting from his situation. Frozen in fear, he let her continue.

“Gosh, Oliver,” Michelle said, laughing over her words, “you’re like a fucking insect now! If I’m the loser, what does that make you?! HAHAHAHAH!”

Michelle’s laughs boomed in his ears, almost to the point of overwhelming his hearing. This was turning into sensory overload. He had to stop it all now, whatever the hell it even was…

“Michelle! Listen to me! I don’t know what’s happened, but you gotta help me! You’re the only one who knows about this and—”

“That’s right. I am…” Michelle interrupted him, looking down at him authoritatively.

“You gotta... you gotta…” Oliver struggled to think what to do. “Take me to the hospital! Call an ambulance! Oh god, I gotta call my family! I gotta—”

*BOOOOM*

Michelle slammed her sweaty foot right next to Oliver, knocking him on his butt through the vibrations in the floor.

“Oh, Oliver. Ooooooooliver. My, my, my, you really don’t see the situation here do you?” Michelle said, becoming more menacing.

She planted the end of her foot down on top of the tiny man, pressing him down into the floor with her giant toes. The smell was rancid, and Oliver found his entire body coated with days of accumulated foot sweat just from being in contact with Michelle’s unwashed toes for merely seconds.

Oliver started pounding against Michelle’s toes violently, gasping from a breath of fresh air simultaneously. “Get your fucking disgusting toe off me, Michelle!”

This only emboldened Michelle in her resolve as she pressed him even harder into the floor, restricting the flow of his airways. “I don’t think so, asshole. You’ve been a gigantic pain in my ass ever since I moved into this building, and now it’s payback time! How do you like my toes? You probably think they’re revolting. Well, Oliver, this is only the beginning of what’s to become of your life. I’m gonna make you suffer… in so many ways!”

Michelle broke out into a maniacal laugh like a movie villain. What was even going on? The pathetic unemployed woman with terrible hygiene that Oliver thought so little of now seemed like a merciless tyrant to him. It seemed that she had a vendetta against him too. This whole thing could have been avoided! If he just let the rent go! If he just let Michelle pay as soon as she remembered! If he never came over here, it all could have been avoided! Now he was fighting for his life, yet completely powerless against this foul excuse of a woman. All he could do for now, was gather information.

“Did… did you do this… Michelle? Did you shrink me?” he asked nervously.

“No” Michelle replied plainly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not loving every second of this. Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you, little slave…”

Slave? Is that what the gigantic bitch was thinking? She wanted him to be her slave? This couldn’t be happening. This actually could not be happening. But it was, and Oliver couldn’t accept it. Every instinct of his was to fight it, but he couldn’t even wriggle out from underneath her gigantic toes.

“Wha-wha-what are you g-going to do to me?” Oliver asked, whimpering.

A huge grin spread across Michelle’s demonic face. “I’m not going to spoil the surprise, but I know you’re going to HATE every fucking second of it… loser.”

The tables had really turned. As Michelle failed to contain the excitement coursing through her, a horror-struck look was painted across Oliver’s face, as he awaited the first of many trials.

Michelle picked up the clothes off the floor and started searching the pockets. Oliver couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the size of his clothes. The sight told him how big he used to be, and put into perspective how much he had shrunk. He used to tower over Michelle, both physically and in self-esteem, and now he was little more than a bug. Even a house pet would be like a monster as his miniscule stature, and he was beyond thankful (if that was even possible now) that Michelle didn’t have one.

Michelle pulled his wallet and car keys from out of his pants. “Guess you’re not gonna need these anymore!” Michelle teased, waving the keys right in front of him.

“I’m gonna LOVE my new Bentley! But I don’t care for the color though. Black? You always were boring, Oliver. I think I’m gonna take it to the autoshop and have it painted lime-green with pink stripes! It’ll be so freaking dope!” 

The idea that Michelle would vandalize one of his most prized possessions like that was humiliating enough, but it was hardly the beginning. She pulled various credit cards from the wallet, inspecting them all carefully and noting how spread out his fortune truly was.

“Now, slave,” Michelle said confidently. “I feel like doing a bit of online shopping. I’ve got many little goodies on my Amazon wishlist and you’ll be FOOTING the bill!” – Michelle giggled at her horrendous dad joke as she pressed her tiny prisoner into the floor with her even more horrendous foot.

She continued. “The only problem is I don’t know your PIN number. Some sites ask for those when the purchases become suspicious. Now, you’re gonna tell me… or else…”

Oliver was terrified, but he had a very level-headed nature generally and did what he could to keep control of his cognitions. No matter how much his mind raced, he wasn’t about to just give Michelle access to his wealth without restraint. Not without a fight.

“You bitch! You disgusting fucking bitch! I’m down here, afflicted with a never before seen condition and you’re thinking about a shopping spree?! With my money?! Fuck you! Fuck you! You do what’s right—”

*PLOOOOMP*

Oliver was interrupted my Michelle shifting her toes upwards, covering Oliver’s face and functionally gagging him with the fleshy base of her index toe.

Michelle’s face looked flustered. “Alright, now I’m mad, slave. But I get it. This is a new experience for you. It would be foolish of me to not give you a bit of time to adjust to it. But don’t think I won’t make this worse than it already is. FAR WORSE,” she said, pushing his face against the hard floor. “I could easily make your head POP like a grape under my big toes! But that would be too easy. I’d crush every part of your body slowly. You’ll bleed to death in the worst agony imaginable. You’ll be begging for a quick death after only 30 seconds of what I can do. So I’ll ask you again. What is your PIN number? Give me access now and maybe I’ll make this a tad easier for you.”

Oliver didn’t know what to do. The pressure created between the floor and Michelle’s toe was like two brick walls pressing down on his head, and he didn’t trust that Michelle knew her own strength. As much as he hated the idea, he knew that Michelle was dead serious about murdering him right here if he didn’t comply. He thought to himself: “If I can manage to escape, I can fix this and bring her to justice. I’ll be able to get all my money back. The accounts are insured. As long as I prove what happened I’ll get every cent back and this bitch will spend the remainder of her life in solitary confinement.” It was something he had to gamble on.

“It’s in my phone notes. All my passwords and PINs…” he said, sounding reserved.

Michelle raised her foot off him, giving his body much needed relief and allowing him to breathe. “See! Now that wasn’t so hard, was it pet?!” she said condescendingly. She picked him up and went to her computer desk, ready to go on the shopping spree of a lifetime. She not-so-gently dropped Oliver on the table, fired up her PC, and put her feet up right up next to him. Looking over the edge of the desk, Oliver knew any attempted escape from here was suicide. As Michelle hummed to herself and waited for the computer to load up, Oliver couldn’t help but look at the various little figurines Michelle had scattered around her desk. Characters from various anime series, all of whom were Michelle’s property too, but lacked the very thing that brought him suffering – sentience. In many ways, he was envious of them.

Michelle turned her attention to Oliver after bringing up Amazon.

“Now slave… I’m gonna enjoy my day, sitting here. You are NOT going to enjoy your day. You’re going to use what few methods are at your disposal to clean my FILTHY feet!”

She was clearly aware of her own lack of hygiene, and wanted to use it like the weapon-of-mass-destruction it was.

“You… you can’t be serious, Michelle! Your feet are disgusting! I swear, if I stay any closer to them they’ll kill me for sure!”

Michelle frowned, clearly unhappy with such a comment. “You think I won’t kill you anyway, you little piece of shit? Get to work, or I’ll inflict more pain than you can imagine.” She pushed her feet forward into him, knocking Oliver down on his backside. “NOW!”

Oliver had a feeling Michelle was in no mood to tell him twice. With great apprehension he picked himself up and approached her left foot. As it sat vertically on the desk, Oliver couldn’t help but think about the immensity (and foulness) of the task before him. Michelle’s feet were more than 10 times his height! But he had no choice in the matter. He placed his face against Michelle’s calloused heel, and licked.

The disgusting taste had a repellent effect on Oliver. Almost reflexively he threw himself away from the monstrous foot and took a step back. He started coughing and making loud gagging noises.

“Blegh! Fuck, Michelle! That’s fucking foul!” Oliver exclaimed in protest.

Michelle slammed her feet up and down rhythmically, sending quakes through the desk. Her expression looked unmoved. “Did I say I was concerned about you thought about it? You know, for a self-proclaimed smart guy, you’re pretty dumb. Did you lose all your brain cells when you shrank? Clean my fucking feet…. Kiss them while you’re at it too…”

Michelle turned her attention back to the computer, squealing in glee when she spotted an expensive material good she wanted. Oliver didn’t know how he was going to muster it. On one hand, Michelle would kill him violently if he disobeyed, but if he continued he swore that his body would give up on him in some way. Maybe the grime on Michelle’s feet will destroy him immune system? Maybe he’ll be so traumatised that he’ll simply jump off the edge of the desk to his death. As horrible as it sounded, the next course of action was clear. Disobeying was certain death, but obeying only brought about possible consequences. He stepped forward again, laying his face against the sickening, slimy foot and felt nauseated before he even stuck his tongue out again.

Oliver licked it. The same response occurred again as his body urged him to back away, but he fought against that impulse with all of his might. His knees gave out and he dragged his tongue downwards, picking up layers of dirt along the way, but he was still cleaning. Oliver might have been an unempathetic person and condemned many former tenants to the streets before, but he knew inflicting this torture on anybody in the world beyond his capabilities. In this moment, he truly knew what immorality was, and Michelle embodied it. He continued to lick the disgusting foot, working his way in between the little wrinkles that seemed to hide even more dirt and dust than they would seem just by looking at them.

Eventually, Oliver’s task became even more difficult. To clean all of Michelle’s gigantic foot, he had to climb it. He gripped on to the wrinkly flesh of the soles and pulled himself upwards with all his might, having little support below him except for the tiniest indentations he made into Michelle’s skin. They required the most vicious kicks, gave him very little to support himself on, and were making Michelle giggle and have reflexes. It wasn’t unlike the mountain climbing he had done in his use, if you replaced the rock with soft, moist flesh and a tendency to move without warning. His poor tiny fingers could barely take it. They felt like the ligaments inside them would break down and bones would detach. He battled on, climbing higher and higher, past the arch and to where the foot seemingly became more and more disgusting. Every time he gripped the skin, sweat oozed out of the pores of the giant woman’s skin as if he was wringing a towel dry. It only forced him to engage more strength that he didn’t believe he had.

More than two hours passed. Oliver was coated in Michelle’s vile foot sweat and pieces of dirt that she’d collected walking around the apartment. He had scaled Michelle’s foot like it was a building and he a puny Spider-Man. Although he didn’t believe it possible, Oliver gained some relief when he reached the top of the foot. He climbed between Michelle’s big and index toes and was finally able to drop his body weight onto his feet and lean against the big toe like it was a wall. Conveniently, Michelle was currently distracted and had moved on from Amazon and was now on Funko’s website and buying an excessive amount of memorabilia.

“Neato!” Michelle exclaimed, “I’ve wanted the Kyoka Jiro figure for so long!” She started entering Oliver’s financial details again. The shrunken man didn’t want to know how much of his fortune his tormentor had already burned through. He turned to look in the other direction. Looking over Michelle’s room was like staring into the Grand Canyon. If it wasn’t for the fact he was still more anxious than he’d ever been in his life, it might have been a very spiritual experience that put him in awe at how small he was in comparison to all of the cosmos.

*THUD*

Michelle lifted her foot an inch and slammed it on the table. The boom left a ringing in Oliver’s ears, and the sudden shift caused him to slip over. The only thing stopping him from falling down the length of the foot was one hand holding for dear life to the dry, flaky skin between Michelle’s toes.

“Did I say you could take a break!?” Michelle yelled; the words barely audible to Oliver over the immense volume of her voice.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Michelle! I’m getting back to work now!” Oliver appealed desperately. He had to make sure not to get distracted by anything again if he wanted to make it through this, even if it was to care for his own fatigue.

“Two things,” Michelle said. “One; you’ll address me as ‘Goddess’ from now on. You are not my equal. You are my fucking slave. And you will acknowledge your inferiority and always remind yourself that you are PROPERTY. Nothing more. Two; I want you to eat the gunk in between my toes… and look like you’re loving it! Oh, yes, I want your expression to look like you’re eating a perfectly cooked steak!”

Oliver looked down at said gunk. The toe jam accumulated between Michelle’s index and big toes was a blueish-green chunk of dried sweat, dead skin and an assortment of other materials concentrated into a single pile of grossness. Apprehensively, Oliver touched it with his hand, the texture similar to licorice. Soft on the surface, but firm as he pressed down. As if foot sweat from Michelle’s soles wasn’t enough, he especially didn’t want this anywhere near his mouth.

“Do it now” Michelle said sternly. “Or you might just find yourself mashed up into it.”

What choice did he have. Tears were rolling down Oliver’s face as the pungent odors never ceased violating his nose and irritating his eyes as though surrounded by hundreds of chopped onions. It was do or die.

*CHOMP*

It was even worse than he could have imagined. The texture of the toe jam was pillow-soft for the most part, and somewhat crunchy at times. Every time he chewed, disgusting liquids seeped out of it and filled his mouth. He didn’t think so much moisture could be trapped inside that solid block, but his experience was proof of how deceptive looks were. The taste was even worse. It was like rotten cheese combined with decaying meat and rubber. Oliver’s tears approached new levels as he fought against his body’s urging him to spit it out and throw up what he had already swallowed. He looked over at Michelle, who had a big grin on her face.

“Smile! I wanna see how much you love your meal!”

Oliver hated giving her such pleasure, but there was no way out of it. As every part of his brain screamed at him to get this disgusting substance out of his mouth, flip the bird, and curse Michelle’s name to hell, he forced it to do the opposite. He grinned at her. A new definition of ‘shit-eating grin.’

“Awwww!” Michelle exclaimed, “I’m such a good owner aren’t I! Lucky for you, after you finish up all the gunk on this toe, you got a whole other to start working on!”

Oliver’s heart stopped for a moment at that realization. He wasn’t even finished on the first foot yet! This truly was more than enough already, but with what will he had he forced his way through the wet, spongy mounds of toe jam in front of him.

Another few hours had passed, and by the time Oliver had finished the Michelle’s other foot he had burned up all his reserved energy and felt as though he’d pulled several muscles forcing his body to navigate them. What was worse was the fact that he was hungry and dying for a drink. There was no nourishment in anything he consumed. He didn’t even have the energy to lift his arm and drag his hand across his tongue to remove what muck was still inside his mouth. All he did was lay there, panting, feeling hopeless.

Michelle went to inspect her feet; a disappointed look came to her face.

“This is the best you can do?! Fuck, slave, when I command you to do a job, I want it done well, understand?! God, you’re so fucking stupid.”

In his head, Oliver was thinking about saying “Sorry Goddess,” but his body didn’t even have the energy to whisper it.

Angry at him, Michelle picked up a dirty sock from the floor. Not even she knew how long it had been there or how many days she wore it for prior. The only thing she knew was what she wanted to do with it. She picked Oliver up, stuffed him inside of it, tied it into a knot to prevent his escape, and stuffed it deep into her dirty Vans.

“Now you think about what you did! I don’t wanna see you until you’ve learned your lesson.

Hungry, thirsty, tired, in pain, and surrounded by more pungent stink; thinking was the only thing he could do, and in so many ways was his only refuge. For how long he’d have to battle against this violation of his senses to maintain his sanity, Oliver did not know. What was for certain was that the worst was yet to come.

Michelle spent the bulk of her afternoon playing games and looking forward to the dozens of purchases she had made with Oliver’s savings, not caring in the slightest about her shrunken slave’s welfare or future. Oliver had spent hours tied up in a stinky sock by this point and was incrementally losing the will to keep fighting. His energy had already been exhausted more than it ever had in his life up to this point, so all the tiny man could do was lay still and do what little he could to recuperate after the abuse he received from Michelle’s grimy feet. Sometimes ideas of escape came into his wandering mind, but more often his mind was intruded by thoughts of the sadistic things Michelle would inflict on him next. He was convinced there was no boundary Michelle wouldn’t cross, and survival meant staying on her good side as much as possible. However, if an opportunity to get away presented itself he would have to take it regardless of his fear. Life as Michelle’s personal plaything was no life.

Although Michelle could easily play video games for over 8 hours a day, she thought she’d had enough of League of Legends for now and went to check in on how her foot cleaner was doing. She had lost trach of time. However long Oliver was tied up in that smelly sock, it was ample punishment. She picked up the sock and began untying the knot. Oliver abruptly shifted out of the semi-dreamlike state he was in and was paying full attention to his surroundings again. His heartrate rose and he got the butterflies in his stomach. Suddenly, he found himself falling though the damp fabric and landed in Michelle’s hand. His gigantic tormentor was staring down at him, looking awfully pleased with herself for someone that inflicted such disgusting experiences on another human being.

“How was your ‘nap’ slave?” Michelle asked.

The truth was Oliver hadn’t had any sleep at all, only a temporary freedom from having to move while his sense of smell was violated. He chose to play his cards right all the same.

“It… it was okay, goddess….”

Michelle squealed in glee. She was beginning to break Oliver’s mind! He was learning his new place!

“Aww, I’m glad to hear that, pet! But… your nap is over now. I could punish you more if I wanted to, but right now I wanna have more fun with you.”

Whatever fun was, Oliver knew it translated to ‘torture’ for him. He had come to fear the word. He remained silent.

“Is there anything you want to say to me?” Michelle probed, her expression slightly becoming more serious, her gaze piercing him.

“Goddess… I… I am sorry… sorry for not cleaning your feet the way you wanted…” Oliver said. His own mind couldn’t believe such words were coming out of his mouth. Michelle was the last person in the world he expected to say such things to. “I will try to do better next time…” Oliver managed to horrify himself with his last sentence, reminding himself that cleaning Michelle’s disgusting feet was about to become a regular occurrence. “I’m… tired, Mich-I mean, goddess. And hungry. So, so, hungry…”

Michelle smirked. “You’re hungry?! Why didn’t you say so?”

Oliver suddenly felt some relief. Was Michelle actually going to feed him?

Michelle continued. “Yeah, I can’t have you starving to death on me. That’ll spoil everything… for both of us…” she chuckled. “I’ve been eating junk food all day. There’s bound to be loads of scraps stuck between my teeth!”

The relief was short-lived. Oliver’s heart sank into his stomach as he imagines what might be about to happen. As much as the idea of Michelle picking food out of her teeth repulsed him, he knew he had to eat something to keep up his strength. Sitting in her palm, he expected her to start pulling pieces out. Then his sense of balance dropped.

Suddenly, Oliver was flung through the air headed straight towards Michelle’s open mouth. She made an ‘Ahhh’ sound as he watched her monstrous teeth get closer. Before Oliver could even process what was happening, he found himself inside the dark, wet cavern that was Michelle’s mouth.

Oliver had gotten a taste of Michelle’s saliva, and it was even worse than the smell invading his nostrils. As if the slimy texture weren’t enough, the taste of the fluids inside her mouth was repulsive. It was clear that the giant woman had not brushed her teeth in days, potentially even weeks. He really didn’t want to believe it was months. It tasted and smelled like rotten fish stewed together with vomit. Within moments he’d already taken in a few unwilling mouthfuls of the vile spit, and it was urging him to puke. If not for the fact that Michelle’s shifting tongue and his fear was causing him to feel imbalanced, causing him to tense up, he may have been sick already. He didn’t want to know what his ‘owner’ might have done to him if he vomited inside her mouth. Michelle may have been gross, but she had standards.

Michelle started speaking to Oliver again, her voice seeming louder than ever and every word vibrating the flesh around him.

“So, LITTLE Ollie, you said you were hungry?! Well, bon appétit! It’s like a buffet for you! Just look around, you’ve probably got Doritos, Ruffles, beef patties, fried chicken skin. You just have to find it! Think of it as like an Easter egg hunt and you’ll have a great time! Enjoy!”

Michelle broke out into a maniacal laugh, and gently held her jaw down to allow Oliver just enough light for his ‘hunt.’

As much as he hated the task ahead, Oliver knew he wouldn’t get nourishment otherwise. He had to stomach the leftover crap jammed between Michelle’s teeth. Barely able to hold himself in place as he crawled across the tongue, he made his way towards a cheek and sat on the outer side of her molars, the lining of the cheek serving as a slippery wall to lay against. Oliver started digging between two of the teeth, making note of a cavity forming between them that allowed him to squeeze his tiny arms in deeper. The feeling was like plunging your hand into lumpy mashed potato. What he pulled out he couldn’t identify. It was nothing more than a handful of yellow lard now, appearing eerily similar to the pus from a burst pimple. It was moist, and had already been partially broken down by Michelle’s saliva just by sitting between the gaps in her teeth for how long nobody knew. The thought occurred to Oliver that Michelle could just as easily swallow him right then and there if she wanted to, but he tried his best not to think about it. The task at hand was eating, even if it meant eating something he never would have wished for.

Oliver crawled on top of Michelle’s molars as he couldn’t hold himself still stable against the pink flesh. The hard service gave him some balance, but came at the increased risk of Michelle closing her mouth and crushing him. Despite her being his tormentor, he’d placed some trust in her to keep him alive. For now. He put whatever this sludge was in his mouth and would’ve regretted it immediately if not for his hunger. It was beyond awful. Barely indistinguishable from vomit and having slight hints of salt and cheese. He guessed it may have been the crust of pizza. Despite how horrible it was, he wolfed it down. He wanted the experience of tasting it to be short, but still gain what little nourishment it could provide. The satisfaction of feeling some food in his belly after everything he’d been through drove Oliver to keep digging between the gaps of Michelle’s teeth. He tasted all kinds of different (junk) foods, and Michelle laughed through the whole process. Suddenly…

*UUUUUUURRRRRRRP*

Michelle unleashed a putrid burp, completely without warning. For Oliver, it was like getting hit with a hot air flavored with the scent of puke. It caused him to drop the chunk of food in his hand, slip off the molar he’d made a chair, and fall under Michelle’s tongue into a deep pool of spit. As he felt more humiliated than ever, he found himself being heaved up into the air by the snake-like tongue and pushed out of the mouth, back into Michelle’s hand. Oliver was shivering, and Michelle was looking at him with the same sadistic eyes, giggling.

“Was your meal to your liking? I found the idea of you eating scraps from between my teeth cringe as fuck, but that’s just me!”

Oliver wanted to blurt out about how much he hated his capture, but had learned very well by now it only resulted in his being punished. Michelle placed him on the table. He was still shivering and trying to collect himself after the shock that was sitting in Michelle’s mouth and enduring the threat of being swallowed (by accident).

Michelle looked down at him, pulling her mouth to one side and debating with herself what to do next. Then she loudly inhaled inwards, the perfect idea popping into her sadistic mind. She stuck a finger up her nose and dug around. She pulled out a glob of snot and flicked it at Oliver. Before the tiny man could even prepare himself, he found himself hit in the face with it. It felt like he’d been attacked by a slimy bird whose nest he wondered too close to.

The snot felt like it was glued to Oliver’s face. He tried his best to brush it away, but it only seemed to shift around like an uncooked piece of tofu. It was so thick that he couldn’t even close his eyes. Feeling the green substance rubbing against his eyeball was beyond invasive. It tasted like phlegm, not unlike Michelle’s saliva. The horror of the snot however truly came down to its texture. He couldn’t hardly breathe as he tried to pry it off his face; every breath he took had to be pushed in and out of his lungs. Some of the snot had even made its way inside of Oliver’s ears, but that didn’t mute Michelle’s heinous laughter booming around him.

“Awwww!” Michelle said condescendingly. “Need a little help getting out of my sticky boogers? Well, I’m not going to slave. In fact, I had something else in mind…”

Before Oliver could even get the remaining snot off of his face, he felt Michelle’s giant hand grasp him tightly and lift him into the air. He had a very bad feeling about this.  

Almost as swiftly as he was launched into Michelle’s mouth earlier, Oliver found himself moving through the air like a bullet. Partially blinded by the snot in his eyes he couldn’t see his destination and relied on his sense of movement and the wind against his face to gauge his place in space. Suddenly, things became very tight... and very gooey. Now out of Michelle’s palm, he brushed the leftover gunk that she pasted on his face, only to find himself somewhere else he’d have never thought he’d be: the source. Oliver was in Michelle’s nose.

Based on the angle, he determined that he was about half an inch up her left nostril. The tunnel was dark, but not to the extent he couldn’t find his way around. He looked down and could see Michelle’s upper lip, and looking up he only became more and more black, and potentially more packed with filth. He knew he couldn’t risk falling out, off Michelle’s face, and to his death on the floor. Yet he didn’t want to be stuck up there, surrounded by mucus and nose hairs any second longer.

“Still hungry my little pet?!” Michelle teased. “Maybe you should eat some of my green boogers if you’re still hungry!”

Oliver wasn’t about to give her that pleasure. The mush he found between her teeth was sustenance for now. His current goal was just to keep himself stable, from falling out to certain doom. Oliver grabbed a nearby nose hair, noticing how coarse it was. He used it to swing around and plant his foot in a pile of booger hoping to use it as glue to keep himself in. As gross as it was, Oliver knew it was essential to his survival.

It was a mistake however. With his foot functionally encased inside of the glob of mucus he let go of Michelle’s nose fair. Thinking he could hold himself upwards on his feet, he instead flung upside down and twisted his knee in the process. He shouted out in pain and remained suspended there, with his arms unable to grasp anything and his face clearly planted against the slimy nasal walls. All he had now was a deep sense of humiliation, seething pain in his knee, and the company of Michelle’s whistle-like breathing.

Aware of the entire thing, Michelle was cackling. “Do you really think you’re in control here little man? So fucking sad, bro!”

Oliver whimpered to himself, quiet enough that Michelle couldn’t hear him. “I hate you… I fucking hate you… all I wanted to do was teach you to act like an adult and collect what you owed me…” His moans meant nothing to the pile of slimy boogers his face was becoming acquainted with.

As Oliver waved his free leg around, he managed to kick one of Michelle’s nose hairs and push it against its grain and the tip scratched the nasal wall. Michelle sensed this disturbance and started inhaling. Oliver knew what was about to come.

ACCCCHOOOOO!

It all happened faster than he could process. Air started to rush into the nostril, then suddenly he felt the nasal walls shake. He was launched violently Michelle’s nose and landed face-first into her fleshy hands. He was covered in even more snot than ever. Immediately, Oliver went back to shivering and felt even less human with every new form of abuse.

“Wh-wh-why??!!” Oliver cried desperately.

“Why?” Michelle replied, as if he should have already known the answer. “People like you have always made my life hell. This is your payback.”

Stated just like a fact. There was no getting through to her, and Oliver’s mind was beginning to break. He dreaded what was in store next. He hoped it couldn’t be worse than being shoved inside Michelle’s nose, but accepted it surely would be.

“It’s getting dark. I’m feeling snoozy. Now I can’t have you running away, can I slave? No, I sure can’t. You might tell on your owner. But good news for you! You’ll have a chance to sleep!”

Oliver knew by this point not to get enthused by anything she said, even if it was good.

Michelle brought out a jar. It looked like there was grey condensation on the inside. He couldn’t make out what lay at the bottom, only that it appeared to be a murky white and flaky. Michelle opened the jar, picked up little Oliver, and dangled him over it. The horror revealed himself when he looked down.

It was a jar of toenail clippings. He could see that some of the nails even had bluish green pieces of fungus attached.

“It’s your bed! Do you like it?!” Michelle said cheerfully.

All Oliver could do right now was cry. Michelle may have planned to leave him alone through the night, but had ensured that he wouldn’t be away from any part of her, no matter how foul it may have been. As he whimpered and tears streamed down his defeated face, he was released and fell feet-first into the pile of clippings. Although they cushioned his fall, the edges of a few of the nails sliced into his skin. Not enough to inflict any real harm, but enough to draw a few streams of shallow blood and leave him with a nasty sting. The environment around him reeked of wet cotton and rotten mushrooms. He looked up to see if there was any chances of escape. A truly lost cause. The opening was at least 7 or 8 times his height, and there was no clinging to the slippery glass walls no matter how sticky the snot coating his body was.

“Sleep well!” Michelle said, breaking into another maniacal laugh.

She placed the jar back where it came from. A murky cupboard filled with old miscellaneous items in need of dusting. It was pitch black, and Oliver had no idea how long he’d be there alone with Michelle’s toenail clippings. All that he knew was that there’d be a long night ahead of him, and that it would be the first of many.

Oliver didn’t know how much time had passed. All he knew was he was he had spent several hours surrounded by old nail clippings and an inescapable stench. He wasn’t sure if he’d prefer to continue enduring it, or face the next task. The only thing he did know was that he would die if he didn’t escape Michelle. He spent hours crying through the night thinking about his future.

Miraculously, Oliver had managed to catch some sleep. His weakened body had effectively forced him to rest whether he liked it or not. His much needed sleep unfortunately came to an abrupt, smelly end.

*SSPPPPLLLLURRRGGGHHHHHHMMMPPFFF*

Oliver was violently awoken by a loud, drawn-out sound and a nasty stench. He stood up in panic only to slip over again over the mountain of toenails that surrounded him in every direction. The sound seemed to be getting louder, and the stench was definitely getting worse. He didn’t know what was happening, or what to do. In a panic he stood up again only to run straight into the wet inner walls of the jar and fall back down again on his back. It was then he finally realized what the unwelcome alarm was. He was looking up at Michelle’s asshole as she let out a long, stinky fart.

Michelle was laughing her head off. She wasn’t looking at the jar, but the thumps of Oliver’s movements offered her imagination more than enough to chew on.

“Wake up, slave!” she exclaimed through laughs she could barely contain, “you have another long day of serving me ahead of you, so let’s not waste a second!”

Stuck in a jar as the oxygen content diminished and was replaced with the putrid stench of the fart, Oliver’s eyes stung as if exposed to tear gas, and he found himself vomiting the chunky remains of chewed-up food Michelle fed him. Before he could collect himself after this most unwelcome expulsion of his innards, Michelle pulled him out.

Holding Oliver in her palm and giving him a cheeky smile, she raised her other arm above her head.

“See this pet? I need you to clean it.”

Oliver wasn’t sure what she meant by clean it. Despite the thick clump of hair coated in sweat, it seemed like an otherwise normal armpit.

“With your tongue… just like you did my feet. And remember your lessons from before. I want it done properly.”

Without wasting a second more, Michelle dove to her bed, and placed both arms on the back of her head, leaving Oliver beside the first armpit with an unpleasant task ahead of him.

Oliver looked upon the hairy pit. Much of it was matted and appeared as though it hadn’t seen a shower in months. What made it worse were small pieces of foreign materials that he couldn’t identify. Oliver approached it cautiously while his owner relaxed, unsure it he was meant to organise the hair into something that might resemble a normal human’s armpit, remove the other substances, or clear it of sweat. He didn’t want anything to do with any of it. Regardless, he pushed ahead. As he pressed his face it, he noted the fuzzy sensations across his skin. This was short-lived, as the scent became the more prominent sensory experience. The smell of Michelle’s armpit was like a smack in the face. Musky and oily with a slight hint of old spice. It wasn’t nearly as bad as her feet or her breath and burps, but unwelcome all the same. He pushed ahead with the dreadful task, trying his best to separate the near-dreadlock-like hair without yanking pieces of it out and angering his captor. Please come save me, Oliver thought desperately.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

It was the door. Michelle stood up, clamping her arms down and trapping tiny Oliver beneath the shoulder and deep in her armpit. His face was pressed against the sweaty skin, giving him a most unwelcome nose full of her vile body odour. The knocking had alarmed Michelle. She wasn’t expecting any visitors.

“Coming!” Michelle loudly said, sounding mildly concerned before turning her attention back to her slave. She lifted her arm up and freed Oliver from his sweaty prison. “Now you listen here, you fucking worm. I don’t know who’s on the other side of that door, but they aren’t gonna know you’re here. Nobody will. And on the off chance you somehow get to reveal yourself know this, bitch. I’ll kill you. I’ll crush your little head under my feet like a grape. I’ll drown you in a jar of my urine. I’ll throw you off the balcony and you’ll get to contend with your coming death during your long fall. So don’t cross me. Are we clear?!”

Oliver meekly kept still, saying nothing. He didn’t like Michelle when she was angry.

“ARE WE FUCKING CLEAR?!”

“Yes! Yes, we’re clear, goddess. I’m sorry!” Oliver was shaking. Her voice left his ears ringing in pain.

“Good. Now I’m gonna hide you. Keep your butt quiet.”

Michelle clamped her fist shut, squeezing tiny Oliver into an uncomfortable position as she considered the possibilities available. She didn’t want whoever was on the other side of the door to get suspicious. Then the idea popped into her head. Michelle pulled the elastic on the rear-end of her underwear and dropped Oliver down into the crack of her ass, letting it go with finger with a light snap.

Oliver didn’t need a description of where he was, and it was far worse than he could have imagined. Michelle’s butt might have provided plenty for a gentleman to grab hold of and enjoy, but the inner world of her underpants were as unkempt as any part of her body and life. The heat was bordering on impossible to bare, and the sweat of her skin and the fact these panties were at least four days overdue for washing contributed to a putrid atmosphere. He was stuck, sandwiched between her thick cheeks and surrounded by the scent of her crack. He tried to move his arms, but he was wedged in deep. It was like a vice-grip in there.

“One second!” Michelle said approaching the door. She opened it feeling mildly anxious. Unexpected visitors weren’t her favourite thing.

It was the police.

There were two officers. One of them in his 50s and sporting a thick moustache gave Michelle a welcoming smile.

“Excuse us for showing up like this, but is your name Michelle?”

Michelle’s heart started beating fast, but she didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. “Y-yes I am. What can I do for you?”

“We received a missing person’s report. Your landlord Oliver hasn’t been seen for over 24 hours. Now we don’t wanna jump to conclusions, but we wanted to trace his last known movements. He sent his partner a text saying he was checking up on a tenant at this address. Would you be able to confirm this, Michelle.”

“Uh, yeah, Oliver did come by. I think that was around 11am? Maybe 12? To be honest I wasn’t really paying attention to the time. Oliver’s kind of a dick, you know?” Michelle laughed nervously. The officers were not so enthusiastic. “He, umm, he came by for a routine check on the apartment. He’s kinda nosey like that.

The officer took note of the disorderly state of the apartment. “Did he have anything to say about it?”

Oliver could hear the exchange from within the cheeks. He tried to pound his arms against Michelle’s fleshy butt in angry, desperately wanting for her to tell the truth but knowing well she never would. He wanted to shout with all his might, but his face was pressed against the inner wall of her crack and provided no avenue to make a sound. Here his potential rescuers were, and they had no idea he was crammed inside the butt of this vile, disgusting woman.

Michelle replied. “He said what he always says. To keep it clean, to not let dishes pile up, throw out my trash. He’s like a nagging father. I can clean this shit up when I move out. I’m living here, so I can live how I want.”

The officer nodded. “What happened after that?”

“He finished his usual lecture about paying the rent on time and then he left. He slammed the door behind him and left with a hush. He really upset me, officer. He made me cry. So if you see him could you please hit him with that?” Michelle motioned toward the officer’s truncheon.

The officer gave her a mildly sympathetic look. He wasn’t the kind of person that took kindly to arrogant people either, especially when they were the cause of his doing additional work. “I can’t promise that, but if we find him we’ll give him an earful too. A lot of people are worried about him.”

Michelle felt pressure building up in her belly. Still focused on the police, she remembered when Oliver was hidden. An opportunity presented itself. A very disgusting opportunity. Oliver could hear a rumble, but put it down to simply a hunger pang. And then…

*SSSSSPPPPPPLLLLGGGGHHHHFFFFFFFMMM*

Oliver was hit with the worst thing yet. Michelle’s slimy fart delivered straight from the source, with no distance at all between her anus and his helpless body. He felt himself coated in slimy moisture, and the gap between Michelle’s cheeks became mildly slippery with the lubrication. That said nothing of the smell however. Like anyone else, Oliver had been exposed to natural gas before, but never like this. He was convinced that the awfulness had reached a threshold of his sensory capability that couldn’t possibly be crossed. The smell was like being stuck in bog filled with manure, sulfur, and decomposing roadkill for 100 miles in every direction. His eyes teared up rivers. His natural instinct to start running away kicked in as he hopeless waved his limbs around as much (or as little) as he could aimlessly. Within seconds of exposure to the noxious fume, Oliver vomited up what little food was in his belly. There was no question. This was HELL.

“Oh, excuse me officers!” Michelle said with embarrassment. The two policemen couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in bewilderment. Michelle continued. “I’ve eaten something that hasn’t agreed with my belly. I really shouldn’t, but I just LOOOOVE the latest BBQ chicken special at Domino’s! I’ve had it 3 times this week.”

The two policemen were noticeably uncomfortable. “We’ll let you take care of yourself, miss. Thanks for your assistance.”

Michelle closed the door on the police, getting the feeling they had more questions, but excused themselves out of their own discomfort. The smell of the fart lingered within Michelle’s underpants. Oliver had heard the police leave, but could barely focus his attention on his would-be saviours leaving him. The sensory overload he was still experiencing was too much.

“I hope you liked that, slave!” Michelle teased. “Looks like someone is worried about you too! Don’t know why. I don’t take an interest in pathetic people myself! In fact, I’d kick them out of their apartments if it were up to me!”

Oliver couldn’t help but be reminded of the regret he was feeling. If only he just let Michelle’s not paying the rent on time slide. If only…

“So… I’m thinking of ordering Taco Bell for brunch. What do you think of that, toy? You’re gonna so much more than you bargained for!”

Michelle’s greasy Taco Bell farts. The thought horrified him, but he didn’t believe it possibly could be worse than what he was just hit with. Michelle had set an expectation of grossness so high that he didn’t think there was any way to surpass it. If there was any lesson to take home from any of this, it was that it could ALWAYS be worse. Oliver, still trapped in Michelle’s sweaty buttcrack, could do nothing more than cry in his own disgust and hope that the smell of the fart would leave soon. Though he had the feeling he’d get no such relief, especially an hour or so after Michelle finished her Taco Bell. He heard her making the call to get it delivered, and prepared himself as much as he could, but no amount of preparation would ever be enough for the horrors ahead.