“Urgh, you are absolutely filthy,” Yor said with disdain, picking him up and holding him between two fingers at a distance far enough away that she didn’t have to smell the cheesy scent now thoroughly embedded into the little spy’s clothing. She considered washing him off so she wouldn’t have to deal with that - but then thought better of it. “So, are you finally willing to talk? Who sent you to spy on me?”

Yuri had been trained to endure poisons, mind games, manipulation and even physical torture, but somehow none of that had prepared him for the harrowing experience that had taken place over the last hour. It was like some horrible combination of all of the above at once, and the fact it was his sister that was dealing it out made it all the worse. His training hadn’t prepared him… but life with his sister had made him strong, toughened against how rough she could be by accident, and he’d built up a tolerance to poison through his cooking. He refused to ruin their relationship so easily, so despite it all he kept his mouth shut, waiting for a chance to escape.

Yor had been trained in over a hundred ways to kill people, but somehow none of that had prepared her for torturing someone in this situation. The closest she’d come was threatening a guard’s life for information, there was no need to cause unnecessary pain to any of her targets - she always finished the job quickly. Her mind ran through all of the techniques she knew, ticking them off one by one… not a single one could be used on a tiny man without killing him, and even if he deserved it for spying on her family that wouldn’t tell her who he was or what his group knew. So with very few alternative options, she knew she'd have to get ‘creative’ with her torture.

…As if it was that easy to come up with creative torture methods on the spot! There had to be something she’d overheard spies doing to get information, or perhaps rumours about interrogation techniques used by the SSS… She did vaguely recall hearing something about a pair of women getting information from their target with a ‘boob job,’ though she’d only overheard part of the conversation. It should be easy enough to figure out though, just smothering them senseless with her… her b-breasts. That would be easy at his size! So why was it making her blush so much…

Dazed as he still was after ingesting hours of his sister's relentless foot odour, Yuri could almost hear the gears turning in Yor’s head as she stared at him. Almost certainly thinking hard about, most likely, how to torture him. The blush that was spreading over her face had him more than a bit concerned about what she could be considering.

She shook her head, remembering how she’d caught Loid looking at her chest a few times. If guys liked breasts, it wouldn’t be much torture, especially concerning Yor's chest. So she needed to think of something else. And looking down at the miserable speck, it felt like the answer was right in front of her. If he hated being in her shoe - and who wouldn’t with the state it was in after she finished shopping - then she just had to step up the torture. Escalate it. She just needed to settle on something sweatier and smellier than the inside of her boots… which felt like a difficult ask, if it was even possible. 

She sniffed the air as she thought, catching a bit of body odour. It smelt... sour... Lifting the arm she wasn’t using to hold the tiny, Yor gave her armpit a quick, reluctant inhale before immediately recoiling and pulling a disgusted face at the sour, oniony smell that her pits packed. A scent that was now clinging to the inside of her nose.

Of course she forgot deodorant again today. Today of all days! But... perhaps, for once, that was a good thing.

“Alright, we’ll see if you’re ready to talk after this,” she said as she walked into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet above the sink. Yor instinctually reached for a plain band-aid, only to stop short and instead grab two of the band-aids that Anya insisted upon instead. Both were bright pink and featured little characters from that spy show she liked. Maybe a dash of embarrassment and humiliation might just make it worse for the bug, so was plainly the better option. So she dropped one onto the counter below, bringing the other up to her mouth and tearing the wrapping off with her teeth, then snatching up a sewing needle from the cabinet and slicing the bandage in half in a single, unbroken strike.

Yuri could do little more than watch his sister’s deft movements. Surprised at the skill she displayed considering her usually clumsy nature. It seemed he’d unintentionally uncovered an entire other side to her… and it shook him to his dramatically smaller core. He was brought down, shoved face-first into the remaining, soft bandage portion of the band-aid, pinned to it with his mouth fully covered as she began to roll him and the material over onto the adhesive section until he became dizzy from the rotations and found himself completely immobile. Sealed in a tight, pink cocoon from which he had no hope of escaping on his own.

Once she was content that he wasn’t going to be going anywhere without her help or direction, Yor then brought her left hand up to the sleeve of her red sweater, holding the end tightly and pulling her right arm free of its confines as she tucked the remainder of the sweater up onto her shoulder. And all as Yuri helplessly watched from below. She then picked him back up off the surface and slowly lifted her right arm upwards until her pillar of pale skin stretched towards the ceiling. Giving Yuri an unobstructed view of the glistening pocket she was about to stick him to.

“I need to sort out dinner, so I won’t be taking you out of there until later on. I’d advise you to think very carefully about what you’re going to tell me once I let you out. Because I promise you…” Yor brought the pink-bandaged bug right up to her face, showering him with her warm breath. “…I can always make it worse for you, insect.”

Whether Yor believed her own threat, it seemed to have the desired effect on her prisoner.

Had the bandage not been restricting his movement, Yuri could’ve seen himself trembling by now. All his elite training and interrogation techniques drained from his body as his unaware sister humbled him utterly. And now, once again, he was faced with another noxious region of his sister's body. Her sweaty armpit. And this time, he was unable to even scream.

Yor squashed the spy flat against her skin, making sure he could stick comfortably whilst also ensuring his head and face would be tucked right up into the deepest crevice of her underarm once she put her sweater back on. Then, upon deciding that she was satisfied with his position, she angled her head towards her arm and took a few hesitant sniffs. Discovering she seemed to stink even more without her sweater filtering some of the scents. There was no doubt in her mind that her armpit would make him deservingly miserable, at least until he was ready to talk. So she picked up the second bandage, ripped it open with her teeth and stuck it over Yuri’s restrained body, keeping him strapped face-first into her skin, with no choice but to soak up her sweat and let the thick ammonia-tinged scent of her pit wash through him.

Putting her right arm back through her sleeve and lowering it down, Yor felt the squelch of her wet skin clamping back together, even if she couldn’t hear it. She did wonder whether the bandage would maintain its stickiness considering just how slick her underarms had become but decided there were bigger things to worry about for the moment.

Flicking her eyes over to the nearby clock that she kept above the door, Yor startled herself. It wouldn’t be long before Anya or Loid returned home, and she hadn’t even tidied away the shopping! Let alone started on dinner!!

Speeding out of the bathroom, all thoughts of her tiny prisoner spiralled out of her mind. Leaving Yuri alone and helpless in his giant sister’s perspiring armpit. Already wondering whether he might’ve just preferred to stay in her boot. He wasn’t sure, but could now attest that neither made for a remotely pleasant experience.

Bustling around the room, darting back and forth between the kitchen cabinets and the dining table where she’d deposited the groceries she’d collected, acting on instinct alone, Yor was in her element. Unfortunately, her precision and speed weren’t helping the sweat she’d already built up, even if her apartment was cooler than the streets below. But, despite that, she had everything packed away and had gotten to work on cooking in no time at all. As to what Yor planned on cooking, she had no idea. Still struggling to decide just how she was supposed to imbue her food with flavour instead of having it visit death upon any who ate it. Sure, the lessons she’d been having with Camilla had helped. But not by much.

Scanning her eyes through the cabinet and across the surfaces, Yor confidently decided to experiment. Despite the proven success of the one meal she could actually cook, she wanted to go above and beyond. Perhaps she was feeling motivated by the actions of the spy who’d tried to harm her family, so reasoned that by cooking something extraordinary, that would show her commitment to their household and undo some of the potential damage the spy could’ve caused. Even if only she was aware of it.

“Right!” She declared to herself. “I’ll give it my all. After all, Miss Anya deserves only the best.”

 Yor clapped her hands together, bringing forth a shocking expulsion of pressure, causing some of the nearby ornaments to wobble precariously. And as she did so, the spaces beneath her arms compressed into nothing, driving any remaining air out of Yuri’s poisoned lungs. Only allowing him to refill them once she spread her arms again and let her scent flood back into his nose.

Though first, after she checked the clock one more time, she allowed herself a little bit of time to cool off between dealing with her prisoner and kickstarting the meal preparation. Almost all of which she used to rip off her sweltering boots and aerate her feet. The living area was immediately flooded with the powerful stench her brother had been drowning in during her journey out, not to mention the act proved useless without removing the tights that were practically stuck to her feet by that point. However, after flailing around with a cushion to try and disperse the scent towards the open windows, leaving moisture prints everywhere she walked, Yor began to prepare. And twenty minutes later, she was in full flow.

Dicing up any number of random vegetables with horrifying precision, along with one of the many types of meat she’d acquired on her trip out. Then depositing it all into a pot she’d brought to boil on the stove. And all the while, she traipsed from surface to surface, humming away to herself and keeping an eye on the time, expecting Anya to return at any minute.

Unfortunately for the tiny figure bound and gagged within her armpit, her relentless motion paired with the constantly escalating heat from the stove was wreaking havoc on Yor’s concealed torso, still hidden beneath the red sweater. Provoking more and more sweat from her pores with every second that passed, all of which would then drizzle down the length of her arms, thoroughly soaking and submerging Yuri, then passing on down towards her waist. And whilst his prison was a more aerated hell than that of her stiflingly rank boot, Yor’s tiny brother still felt himself hastily sliding towards unconsciousness. So intense was the stench radiating off the armpit she’d fastened him to and so weak was his resolve after enduring hours of being stomped under her foot and now forcibly having his lungs fumigated by her armpit.

It was only when the adhesive lining of the outer plaster finally began to suffer the effects of Yor’s sweat that Yuri noticed it. The sticky material flopping back, leaving him to gradually draw free from her skin. Whilst his cocoon wasn’t budging in the slightest, leaving him still absolutely helpless, the relief of his face no longer getting constantly sweat-boarded was impossible to convey. And not just because his mouth remained covered by the plaster that bound him.

As she reached the latter part of her accursed culinary routine, Yuri felt his bondage lightening more and more. Unable to know whether his sister noticed it too, he could only pray that perhaps this might be the end to his prolonged suffering. Even the potential to crash down onto the floor below and get introduced to the bottom of the boot he’d endured so miserably was seriously preferable over yet more of his sister's repulsive stench.

And then, finally, as Yor spun on the spot, he felt it.

The band snapped free from the skin surrounding him and left Yuri to his fate. Separated from his sister and hurtling downwards beneath the crimson cotton that tinted the wall of Yor’s skin. It was darker than he imagined it must’ve been outside of her clothing, but still allowing enough light to spy his destination.

The kitchen floor below, peaking in from the base of her jumper. Lying ever so enticingly below him. Promising either escape or a merciful demise.

Until she moved again. And his bulged as his destination changed.

With Yor twisting herself around to tend to the countertop opposite the stove, she unknowingly blocked his escape route. Changing his target from the distant floor... to her imposing rear.