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.