My screams are muffled as Naomi clutches my head between her toes. I flail and thrash, desperate to free myself as she squeezes tighter and tighter. Her foot rocks back and forth, yanking me roughly across the carpet. Finally, she releases me and I fall to the floor in a trembling, sobbing heap.
I'm naked. My clothes lie in shreds on the floor around me, ripped from me by Naomi's massive fingers only moments ago. My face is pounding and warm with sticky blood, and my shoulder grates painfully when I try to move my arm.
"What the hell are you crying for?" Naomi snaps at me. "You love Momma's pretty feet, don't you?" Her bare foot slaps the carpet a hair's breadth away from me. "Don't you?"
There's nothing remotely playful or teasing her voice right now. All I can hear is fury and disgust. And for the first time ever, I'm terrified that she's going to kill me.
Even Debbie sounds a little worried. "I think you're really hurting him, Naomi," she says. I can feel the thud of her footsteps as she cautiously approaches.
"Bullshit," Naomi snarls, and prods me in the side with her big toe, flipping me onto my back. The edge of her toenail pokes me roughly and leaves a welt on my abdomen. I lie there, quivering and helpless, as she peers down at me with a hateful smile.
"You like it down there at Momma's feet, don't you?" Her foot hovers over me, looming as if to deliver its final blow. I stare at the white, leathery flesh of her sole and snivel unintelligibly. I'm going to die, and that knowledge paralyzes me.
"Don't you, you little shit?" Naomi continues, speaking so emphatically that spit flies from her mouth along with cigarette smoke. "You like fucking my toes, don't you? You wanna stick that little dick of your between them and just fuck them until you pass out, right?"
I keep looking straight up at the bottom of her foot, imagining it slamming down and ending my life time and time again. Will it hurt? Will I feel my insides burst and squish as my bones are crunched to splinters? For some reason, I find myself crazily thinking of Louise and the silly fantasies I used to have about her. Her sweet face in my crazed mind makes me cry even harder.
"Answer me!" Naomi screams, her foot descending. I scream and brace myself for the end, but it doesn't come. Instead, her soft and thick sole presses down on me, gently at first, but harder and harder, until I can't even get a breath. I press uselessly at her foot with my trembling hands and nod frantically.
"Yes, Momma," I wheeze. Suddenly, the weight is gone. I open my eyes and raise my head, wincing at the pain in my shoulder. Naomi sits on the edge of the couch, a cigarette dangling from her lips.
"Get up," she orders me. And it's probably one of the hardest things I've ever done, but somehow I manage to clamber to my feet and stand. My head is pounding in time with my heart, and I'm so dizzy it feels like the entire room is spinning wildly. Every second that my legs don't buckle is a miracle in human endurance.
Naomi raises her bare foot barely, rocking it back on its heel. "I want you to crawl under my foot and lick it," she tells me. "And then I want you to kiss each of my toes and tell me how pretty they are. And after that..." She takes the cigarette from her mouth and releases a long stream of smoke from her nostrils. "After that, I'll think about letting you off the hook."
Letting me off the hook? The truth is, I'm being punished for something my father did. His great sin was to call her and tell her that he was working late, which he does quite frequently. Unfortunately, his timing was pretty bad in this case. Naomi was already hung over and in a foul mood, and already pissed at him for going into work in the first place on what was supposed to be a holiday. And, on top of everything else, she has this insane idea that he's having an affair with Rachel Foster from GenetiTech. So she was quite ready to punish my father and, since he wasn't here to receive the brunt of her rage, that horrible duty fell on me.
I can't bear the thought of being under her foot again, of lying there and just waiting for it to slam down and kill me. And I don't believe for a minute that she's going to "let me off the hook."
"You've got to the count of three," Naomi says, tapping her foot angrily. Her toes clench tightly and wiggle slowly, and it's not too hard to imagine myself caught between them, being ground to a pulp.
"One..."
My next act is the hopeless action of a person who truly has nothing left to lose. I whirl around and stumble towards Debbie, who stands less than a foot away. She sounded like she might be sympathetic to my plight. Right now, I'm gambling everything that she will be.
"Two... son of a bitch!" Naomi stands up and stomps toward me. Her foot slams down so close behind me that I can feel the rush of air. But she's too late. I dive awkwardly onto Debbie's foot and cover it with damp, desperate kisses.
"Help me, Aunt Debbie," I plead with her. "Please, don't let her kill me."
Debbie reaches down and plucks me from her foot. She holds me by the waist between her thumb and forefinger, letting me dangle helplessly as she lifts me into the air. She looks at me with obvious concern, then back at Naomi, who has stopped her charge and is waiting for Debbie's next move.
"Sorry, kiddo," Debbie tells me. "Nothing I can do." With a shrug, she reaches over and drops me into Naomi's waiting palm.
"Oh, you little piece of shit," Naomi says to me as her fingers close tightly around me. "Now I'm really gonna make you miserable."
Bound and helpless, I'm dangling upside down from Naomi's fingers. I'm completely wrapped in a strip of packing tape. My arms are fixed at my sides, and my legs are held together by the tape, which has been wound around my entire body several times. Only my head remains exposed, protruding from the cocoon of tape. White hot pain flares from my shoulder every time I try to turn my head, so I simply stare straight ahead into her monstrous face.
My cheeks are tight and itchy with wet tears and dried blood, and my left eye is swollen shut. I can't even breathe through my nose anymore, so I'm take laborious gasps through my mouth in between sobs.
"You look like a little worm," Naomi says with a sneer. "Doesn't he, Debbie?"
From behind me, I hear Debbie giggle nervously. "Yeah, right out of Cuervo bottle."
"Hmm," Naomi says, then licks her lips. The sight of her slimy tongue at such close proximity is horrifying. "You know what we do with the Cuervo worm, don't you Debbie?"
"Eat 'em up," Debbie says with a sickening perkiness. "Yum yum!"
Naomi lifts me high into the air and dangles me over her upturned face. She opens her mouth wide and slowly lowers me towards it. I wriggle helplessly against my bonds and scream as she dips me into her mouth. My face presses against her tongue, and her thick saliva covers me like a sheet. I'm still squirming uselessly when her lips close around my waist and I find myself trapped in the dark, wet chasm of her mouth.
Even though I can't breathe through my nose, the smell is still enough to make me gag. The warm, fetid air inside her mouth carries with it the sour, stomach-churning reek of cigarettes and wine. I try so desperately to pull my face away from the slimy, bumpy surface of her tongue, but the shooting pains in my shoulder are unbearable.
She moves me up and down inside her mouth, sliding me along her tongue. I keep my eyes screwed shut and my mouth closed for as long as I can, but eventually I'm forced to take a breath. I can taste her saliva mingling with mine, a thought that makes me heave dryly.
I'm still convulsing and gagging when she finally pulls me out of her mouth and lays me in the palm of her hand. I open my eyes just in time to see her reach down with her index finger and dab the spit off of my face. She mashes my swollen eye and my injured nose roughly. I scream as white flashes fill my vision.
"You know what?" she tells me, her face softening a little at last. "I'm getting tired of punishing you."
"Please," I sputter weakly. "Please, Momma. I'm so sorry..."
"I know, sweetie," she says, walking with me, carrying me somewhere. I can't see anything but the blur of the ceiling overhead. "Remember when I told you if you ever ran from me, I'd take a lit cigarette to you?"
I nod weakly, wincing at the ache in my shoulder. "You... you're not going to..."
She shakes her head and laughs. "Of course I'm not. Don't be stupid." I sigh with relief, hoping against all hope that the worst is finally over.
She carries me into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. "I came up with a better idea," she tells me as she sets me inside, laying me on the bottom shelf. I'm too tired to even sob as she closes the door, leaving me in darkness.
So cold... I convulse in the darkness, my muscles shivering violently within my tight constraints. The flesh on my face is numb and stiff, and I can't even cry anymore. All I can manage is a pathetic, weak moan.
I want to die...
It feels like days later when the light comes on, blinding me. Naomi's hand reaches down and scoops me up. Her flesh is so warm that it burns my face to touch it. Still, I revel in the sensation. Her warm fingers envelope me and my muscles, awakened by the sudden warmth, begin convulsing all over again.
"Mercy," Naomi says as she carries me into the living room. I shake violently in her grip, screaming as my body is wracked with ferocious spasms. Naomi actually appears concerned as she presses me with her fingers, trying to settle me down.
"Is he okay?" Debbie asks, peering down at me with a frown on her face.
Naomi fumbles with me with monstrous fingers, trying to peel the tape from my convulsing body. She finally manages to pull up the edge with the tip of her fingernail, and she begins unwrapping me. The process goes unhindered until the very end, when she pulls the tape from my naked flesh. I scream myself hoarse from the unimaginable agony. Even when my voice is gone, I continue hiss and rasp through my sore, swollen throat.
"Jesus," Naomi whispers, honestly scared. She finally gets the tape off and shakes her fingers violently to tear it loose. Then she massages me with her fingertips until, at last, the shivering abates.
"I'm so sorry, Momma," I cry in my gravelly voice, hugging myself as I cower naked in her palm. "God, I'm so sorry."
"Shhhh," Naomi comforts me, hugging me against her cotton blouse, just under her breasts. "It's okay, sweetie. Everything's okay."
Debbie whistles. "You really did a number on him, Naomi. Those GenetiTech people might not want him now."
"Shut up," Naomi snarls, startling me and making me jump. "Shhh, baby," she says to me, peering down at me with a worried smile. "Everything's going to be okay. I promise."
"I'm so sorry," I wail again and again, unable to stop myself. "Please don't hurt me anymore."
"He might have hypothermia," Debbie says.
Naomi sighs impatiently. "He was only in there for twenty minutes."
"But he's little bitty," Debbie insists. "You shouldn't have put him in the refrigerator, Naomi."
"I know!" Naomi shouts. "Okay? Now drop it!"
It's about an hour before I finally get my hysteria under control. The entire time, Naomi is holding me, petting me, doing everything she can to soothe me. She apologizes for hurting me, and she swears that she'll never do it again.
When it becomes apparent that I wasn't permanently injured, Debbie takes her leave of us. She tells Naomi she needs to get home and fix dinner for Walt. I glare at her hatefully from Naomi's hand, remembering the way she betrayed me and the shameful way she treated me. I find myself hoping that Walt's in a bad mood tonight.
But the funny part is, I can't bring myself to bear Naomi any malice. She did things to me a hundred times worse than Debbie, but all I think to do is grovel for her forgiveness and thank her for her mercy. She pleads with me, begging me not to tell Paul or Nicole or anybody else what happened between us tonight, and in my eagerness to please her, I agree.
I think she really broke me this time.
Giantess World
Homunculus by Cayce