Jack was close to tears as his Alpha captor released her grasp on his hands and rolled away from him, allowing him to dwell on his thoughts, albeit momentarily, for the first time since the relative safety of an oversized stuffed toy.

The giant redhead whipped her long, shapely legs around and off the bed, and hopped to her feet in rather ebullient fashion, causing the whole mattress to rock as her considerable weight was removed from the springs. He was only vaguely aware of what she was doing, but in the corner of his eye he saw her sashay across the room and grab some clothes straight from the floor, slipping a pair of blue panties and a short, loose-fitting wife-beater style vest top over her powerful build.

She then walked over to her exercise bike and out of sight, and seemed to root around on the floor for quite a while before striding confidently back over to her prey. She looked down on him again, smirking, a hand resting on her cocked hip. Her long fire-red hair had been tied back into a ponytail, affixed with a blue scrunchie this time.

As she ran her other hand along one side of her bare midriff absent-mindedly, Jack noticed she was carrying what appeared to be some kind of coil of multi-coloured rope in it. He could definitely see rubber grippy handles at each end, so he figured it must be a jump rope, which would explain Caitlin’s trip to her workout area. The beleaguered boy lay there, his arms still splayed out above his head in the position they’d come to rest in, blinking back the wetness that repeatedly formed in his eyes.

The pertinacious titan reached down, her vast torso pivoting at the waist and looming over him like an enormous trash compactor. She didn’t encounter any kind of resistance from him as she methodically wrapped the jump rope around his thin wrists separately, and then bound them together in an unconventional but firm knot using one end of the rope.

Jack felt nothing as she tied his arms, a total absence of feeling. He was acutely aware of this self-imposed apathy; he couldn’t influence what was happening to him and it was mentally exhausting to keep trying and failing. Internally it seemed simpler to not put up a fight and avoid giving Caitlin an excuse to teach him more lessons.

He realised that this meant that her ‘training’ had worked, succeeding in making him docile, compliant and ineffectual – basically a Beta-sized puppet. That was probably why his eyes were full of tears, even though he didn’t even feel upset or angry any more… he just felt… like he wasn’t even there, like it was happening to someone else.

Happy that her makeshift bindings wouldn’t come undone any time soon, the monumental schoolgirl stood up to her full height and pulled on the end of the jump rope she still held, sliding Jack’s listless form across the bed a couple of feet towards her. Raising the rope high towards the ceiling in one hand, she succeeded in lifting his upper body off the mattress, his little arms forced above his head like a reluctant child having a shirt changed, or a pet being dragged by its leash.

Again, the commanding Alpha giggled girlishly at her scrawny prisoner; he looked so wretched and pathetic. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of trying to resist, but to be honest, it felt like anything that he did would be mocked.

She started dragged him awkwardly across the bedsheet towards her, and he realised he was going to go off the edge. He tried to pull against the rope, but only succeeded in raising himself off the mattress slightly as he skated across it. His legs flailed about as she hauled him off the side of the bed, kicking out ineffectually as he swung in a pendulum-like motion by his tied hands, his feet a good couple of feet from the floor.

As the swaying began to slow down, he forced himself to stop struggling, her laughter echoing in his ears. He just wanted the world to swallow him up. Now.

Caitlin lowered him to the floor, his legs buckling under him as they touched the ground, but she held him up enough so that it was obvious he was expected to stand on them. Tired, numb and beaten, Jack got his weary limbs in order and stood to his feet, his back hunched over slightly from his many exertions.

He was hungry, dehydrated, and almost out of energy – there was very little left in the tank. Blind obedience was basically his only option, he had to just hope and pray that Caitlin would go easy on him. He didn’t want to bet on it, though.

Jack was also visibly unclean and sweaty from all of the experiences he had been through, his face and hair were a mess, not to mention his recently depleted loins.

The statuesque girl was meanwhile busily tying the other end of the jump rope around her left wrist in a messy-looking knot, forcing the handle through a loop in the rope so that it would not come undone, and then putting her arm by her side and winding the rope around her wrist a few times to shorten its length. It was quite clever really, he had to admit, like an improvised leash to stop him getting too far away whilst still giving her a degree of autonomy. She could do what she wanted without having to hold onto him, or tie him up somewhere, and she clearly didn’t want to risk leaving him unattended again.

He suddenly found himself getting yanked roughly as she began to move off without warning. His legs collapsed under him as he was pulled forwards, and his toe knuckles dragged across the bedroom carpet painfully. He heard her tut loudly, lifting him off the ground using the rope and dropping him heavily back onto wobbly legs.

“Pay attention, pipsqueak,” she chided. He didn’t even bother looking up to see what her expression was.

This time he was prepared, and when she started to move he quickly stumbled forward, picking up momentum and driving his legs as the Alpha girl walked much more quickly than he could. He had to scurry along haphazardly, watching his feet and hers all the time as she marched out through her doorway and into the kitchen, coming to a halt just in front of the enormous refrigerator.

The vast appliance’s door opened with an audible ker-clunk, and Caitlin started eyeing up her options, absent-mindedly winding the loose rope around her left hand, drawing the undersized boy closer to her colossal left leg.

She kept wrapping more and more of the rope around her hand until Jack had no place to go, he had been dragged right up against her smooth, muscular pin, and his hands were practically in her palm now – there was no excess rope to reel in.

He had to turn his head to one side to avoid having his nose smushed against the solid mass of her unforgiving quad as she rested her hand against the very top of her thigh, just below her hip. His ribcage was touching the upper part of her kneecap and he was having to straddle his feet either side of hers. Looking down he could see that he could easily put both of his feet on the top of her foot like a skateboard. This didn’t seem like a good idea, though.

As the Alpha started reached into the fridge and rummaged around with her free hand, his eyes were drawn upwards.

His hands, almost inside Caitlin’s rope-bound palm, were barely a few inches away from the capaciously stretched Y of her blue panties. The fact began to register, that with his feet on the ground, at full stretch, his hands would only just be able to touch her… down there.

His vision may have been fuzzy at long distance, but he was so up close and personal with her lower body that everything, including the underside of her breasts, was in pretty sharp focus. The girl’s gigantic tits bounced mesmerically in the loose-fitting vest top. The material was thin, and within the bright environs of the expensive Alpha kitchen he could make out their hefty silhouettes jostling against one another whenever her arm moved, the bottom of her vest rippling loosely over her stomach like a sail catching the breeze. Far above, he could only occasionally catch a blurry glimpse of her nose or hair from between those mighty orbs.

Caitlin’s left hand drew up towards her stomach to scratch an itch, lifting him first up onto tiptoes and then, as he struggled to keep his footing on the ground, into the air but sort-of held against her leg. He couldn’t help but press his face into the girl’s rock-like upper thigh as she just held him like that, seemingly without effort. He pointed his toes but he couldn’t quite reach the top of her gargantuan foot.

High above, he observed the girl finally take out a large plastic tub of what looked like pastries. Closing the fridge door, she took a step towards the built-in breakfast bar, her knee pushing firmly into Jack’s gut, conforming him to the shape of her colossal leg like a life-size action figure as it drove forward and planted itself on the ground. Her well-built leg pounded repeatedly against his weakening form, battering into him like a punching bag, and even though she only needed to take a few steps to reach the table, it was enough to knock almost all of the wind out of him.

Completely indifferent to the tiny man’s struggles, Caitlin placed the tub down on the bar and opened the lid. The countertop was actually above Jack’s eyeline, even though his view was technically higher than it would be as he was dangling above the ground, so he couldn’t see what she was about to eat until she picked it up.

The giantess grabbed a fairly large, apparently cream-filled pastry, topped with small strawberries, examined it between her fingers and thumb and raised it up to her lips, taking a large bite out of it. Whilst chocolate bars, cereal, junk food and other artificial snacks were made predominantly at giant scales, strawberries, like other naturally-grown fruit and veg, were the same size they had always been. For Alphas they were like little bursts of flavour, and were often put on top of pastries and baked goods to give extra sweetness.

His view up her imposing figure was once again blocked by her titanic rack, but a handful of small flakes of crumbly pastry fell like confetti down her torso and onto the floor. He could hear the mulchy, wet sound of her greedily chewing the food, and then an exaggerated smack of her lips as she popped the last piece of the pastry in her mouth.

“Mmmmm...” she purred, rubbing her tummy idly with her left hand, causing Jack to rock gently against her herculean leg.

Reaching down she grabbed another one, and swiftly consumed it, and then a third. Jack was beginning to feel light-headed as he hung there, being taunted by this selfish Alpha girl’s appetite. As she reached for yet another and brought it to her face, a big fleck of cream dropped down and landed on her thigh about 6 inches away from his face. She didn’t seem to notice, and Jack just stared at it. His stomach was almost too afraid to rumble.

Caitlin was preoccupied with devouring her fourth pastry, so he took a risk. Wriggling slightly, he got himself a little closer to the blob, straining his neck as far as he could. He extending his tongue out to reach it, and was able to lap a good portion of it off her skin. It tasted… heavenly, definitely a cream filling. Even a tiny bit of this food would give him that extra bit of energy; it felt crucial that he should maximise the opportunity. If he had been thinking straight, he would’ve thought to check he was in the clear before hastily trying to lick the rest of the cream.

“…the fuck are you doing?” the giantess snapped, catching him in the act.

He recoiled, moving his head away from her leg and looked down at the ground submissively.

She lowered him so that his feet touched the cold tiled floor; her left hand moving down to touch the half-licked splat of cream with her index finger. Her immense leg then bent at the knee, pinning him backwards against the veneered wood panel of the breakfast bar as she inspected it, a smile forming on her features.

Reaching down with the half-eaten pastry in her hand, she squeezed the bitten side against the spot where the cream had landed, smearing the filling along her thigh messily and then straightened her leg, unpinning him.

“Knock yourself out, short stuff,” she said, placing the now-crushed pastry on the countertop, “Clean that up and I’ll let you have more.”

He looked up at her, it was one thing when he had tried to do it surreptitiously, this was quite another.

“Well, what are you waiting for, dickweed?” she boomed, her impatience growing.

Hesitantly, he stepped forward, examining the thin trail of cream that she had left for him. Her leg twisted away from him, presenting him with cords of powerful muscle, and she pointed her foot to get them to bulge intimidatingly.

As if in a trance, he leant forward and began to lap at her quad. He heard her half-utter something in delight, obviously thrilled to see him so obedient and docile.

He tried to ignore her, it didn’t matter how humiliating this felt, any food he could get would only help him in the long run.

It took him about 10 seconds to lick the cool, sweet-tasting filling from her mighty gam. He wanted to hide his desperation, but at the same time, if he took too long she might become angry.

She laughed when he had finished, her impressive leg muscles rippling as her body shook.

“Good! Good!” she boomed, slapping her other thigh firmly with her right hand, almost as if she was congratulating him. She then reached over to the squished pastry and knocked it to the floor with a lazy flick of her hand. It bounced off the hard tile floor and came to a rest next to her jumbo-size foot.

Jack looked down at it, he just knew she was going to ask him to eat it off the floor…

“Your reward,” she said coolly, lifting her foot up and, to Jack’s dismay, pressing it down on top of the half-eaten pastry so that it crumbled into lots of little flaky pieces. Grinning, the uncaring redhead raised her foot up to reveal the crushed mess pressed into her fleshy sole and toes, with little red smears of strawberry and spots of cream stuck to the skin.

Jack felt himself gag at the thought of having to eat any of the mess she had created.

“Don’t keep me waiting now…” Caitlin advised, wiggling her big toes expectantly.

Kneeling down with his arms still elevated above his head, he inched closer to her hovering foot and shot a look up at the awesome female in all her formidable glory. Despite his blurry long-distance vision, he could see she wore an expression of amusement and utter disdain. He wanted to beg and reason with her, but she had given him every reason to suspect his pleas would fall on deaf ears.

She had consciously left him no real choice other than to place his head on the floor beneath her monstrous foot, and this prospect frightened him more than he could bear to admit. It was a fact informed by simple physics – her weight was so prodigious that his head would simply pop beneath her foot like a grapefruit if she decided to press down, deliberately or otherwise.

“I… I… can’t”, he croaked, his throat dry as a bone.

There was deafening silence as he waited for her furious response.

“Please… not l-like this…”

The giantess swept her elevated foot over towards him forcefully and knocked him down on his side without a word, unwinding the jump rope from her left hand so that his arms fell loosely in front of him, albeit still tied together at the wrist.

She rolled him on his back with another heavy collision from her foot into his ribs, before placing it onto his chest and face, her long toes seemingly wrapping over the top of his head. He dry-heaved as the splattered food and bits of horrible fluff and muck on the pad of her foot came into contact with his face and mouth.

“Sorry runt, did you say something?” she mocked.

She ground it onto him with a carefully measured, but no less painful weight for a good few seconds until she was happy he had suffered enough.

The torment was over quite quickly, but the unpleasant smell and sheer grubbiness of something as mundane as this Alpha girl’s oversized foot would haunt him for some time.

She planted her foot back down next to him and hauled him upright by his arms with ferocious force, almost pulling his arms clean out of his sockets as he cried out in pain.

“Ugh. Do you have to make everything a fucking chore?” she spat.

He lacked the strength to even stand up now, it was surely only moments before he would faint outright.

Like a little ragdoll he hung, as Caitlin resumed eating her pastries. He couldn’t even count how many she ate, or how long she took to consume them, it was all becoming a kind of endless, nightmarish blur.

His eyes were now half-closed, his vision a haze of bloomed white and grey, unaware of his surroundings. He felt his little body jolt around and his feet brush and skim the floor as he was moved somewhere else.

He was raised up high, and placed limply on the kitchen work surface like a marionette. The sound of the fridge door cracking open again, Caitlin removing a large bottle and pouring something fizzy into a glass before shutting it behind her.

He was swept from the cold, hard counter and sent whooshing through the air again, in a kind of trance, her heavy footsteps thumping across the hard, tiled floor and onto a softer spongy-sounding carpet, and into a different space that seemed warmer and less clinical than the kitchen.

Suddenly, the sensation of falling, and bouncing gracelessly on some kind of firm, faux-leather surface that was quickly depressed by Caitlin’s considerable mass, and his strengthless, wilting body was picked up and manoeuvred by her substantial arms.

He felt himself propped up and covered with rough, hemp-like material; a throw of some kind, and the warmth at his back which led him to suspect he was resting against the giantess herself.

His head lolled back, nestling against something warm, round and cushioned, it was soft and fragrant and… very comfortable.

He knew something was different; he wasn’t being forced into an uncompromising position, and she wasn’t trying to make his life hell, at least, not yet.

“Oi… peewee. Drink some of this will ya…” he heard her announce brusquely. She wasn’t able to completely hide the trace of concern from her voice, though.

Curiously, he forced his eyelids open a crack wider to see a large glass of green-coloured soda tipping itself towards his tiny mouth. Opening his lips, he felt the thick rim press into him, jarring his teeth slightly, and cold, invigorating fluid rush down his gullet and flood over most of his lower face messily.

His parched throat creaked as the sugary nectar flowed down, a kind of muted gargle, and the glass was removed from him. He spluttered slightly as his epiglottis switched back to breathing mode, and opened his eyes a bit wider.

Blinking around, still very spaced, he spied a large TV in the distance, which sparked into life and began blaring some kind of obnoxious teen-oriented programming of Caitlin’s choosing. He slowly acclimatised to the fact he was reclining on her massive body as she sat on a big, Alpha-sized sofa. It wasn’t as straightforward for him to take stock of his immediate surroundings as he might have hoped, as his head was sunk quite far into what felt like a very large, spongy pillow. He rotated his face to his left very, very slowly, and realised it was in fact Caitlin’s enormous vest-covered breast that was providing much needed support for his weary head…

The cool liquid beginning to settle in his stomach ushered in an alien feeling of calm. He just couldn’t fathom why she was suddenly allowing him such an obvious moment of respite, it was maddening. Like when she put ice on his arm, or when she couldn’t find him and resorted to crocodile tears in an attempt to coax him out. I mean, they seemed like crocodile tears…

He was so overwhelmed, he found himself burying his head into her bosom without realising, tears silently streaming down his face as his breath got caught in his throat. He felt a large hand rest on his lap through the throw, like she was giving him a kind of support, and he let out a full-blown whimper that he couldn’t contain any more.

If you’re going to be nice to me, just be fucking nice to me, his inner monologue screamed, smashing imaginary fists against his imaginary prison.

He let out an anguished scream, muffled by the extraordinary heft of her gigantic boob, and to his surprise, he could hear Caitlin turn down the TV volume and shift her weight, perhaps to look down on him better.

“Good boy,” she soothed, “Let it out.”

“Let it all out.”