The week passes with little incident. Naomi's back at work, and Nicole is still in school, so my days are spent in blissful isolation.
Well, okay... it's not all beer and skittles. Each morning, I have to go through the horrible bathing routine with Naomi. She won't let me wear my bathing trunks, and she occasionally asks me if I'd rather just shower with her instead of bathing in the sink. So far, she hasn't forced me to, but I get the distinct feeling I'm living on borrowed time.
Oh, and Cheryl came over twice this week. The first evening, Paul was working late as usual, so I spent a few hours on the floor playing a rousing game of Whose Feet Are Prettiest. I declared Naomi the unequivocal winner. Cheryl pouted and swore at me, but I definitely earned some brownie points with Naomi, which meant I actually got to sleep through the night.
The second time, she and Naomi were going out drinking and dancing. Kim and Nicole were staying with Naomi's sister Debbie, and Paul was watching the Rangers game with some buddies at a sports bar. Cheryl showed up about half an hour early, dressed in a tight black dress, black nylons, and a pair of stiletto heels taller than me. Naomi wasn't ready yet, so she told Cheryl to just make herself at home. And of course, the first thing Cheryl did was grab me and set me on the floor at her feet. We couldn't play our usual game since Naomi was busy, but that was okay. Cheryl had thought of an entirely new game. She slid her foot out of her shoe and set it flat on the floor, then ordered me to climb her nylon. I scrambled across the top of her foot and slowly, laboriously, made my way up her leg while Cheryl smoked her cigarette and watched. When I made it to her knee, she applauded and congratulated me, then rewarded me by crossing her leg and rubbing me against the bottom of her foot until I came. She's a real fun girl, that Cheryl.
Aside from these little episodes, the rest of the week was mercifully humiliation free. I did make up with Nicole and spent a very pleasant evening watching TV while she held me and petted me. She was still a little down about the impending move, and she told me how much she was going to miss her friends, especially Kim.
So now it's Saturday night, and I can't sleep because Louise and Alan are coming to see me tomorrow. It's only been two weeks since I left SPECTRUM, but it feels like an eternity. It's hard to believe there was ever a time when I wasn't being treated like a pet or a plaything.
I'm just lying there when I hear Naomi brush by my dollhouse on her way to the living room. I climb out of bed and walk over to my window. Naomi sits down in Paul's recliner and picks up the phone. She sits there for a second, holding the phone to her breast, then puts it back down. She lights a cigarette and leans back while she smokes it. Then she picks up the phone and dials a number.
"Hey, sweetie," she says quietly into the phone. "They're all asleep." She listens for a few seconds, then giggles. "Stop it, you naughty thing." Another pause. "Yeah, I know. I was just lying in bed, thinking about it."
She's talking to her mysterious boyfriend again. I don't know anything about this guy-I don't know if she's actually screwing him or just flirting or what. But little by little, bit by bit, I'm gleaning what information I can, in the hopes that this will be useful information in the near future.
Tonight, I learn that she hasn't known him long, because she giggles and says, "Oh come now, we've only known each other a month." I also learn that she apparently hooked up with him the night that she and Cheryl went out. Good stuff, but not nearly enough for blackmail material.
After about thirty minutes, she laughs softly and says, "Soon, Benny. Okay?" It's the first time I've heard her call him by name, and I make a mental note. Naomi's mystery date is named Benny.
She disconnects and sets the portable down on the table, then looks in my direction. For one horrible instant, I'm certain she's seen me watching her. Even though I'm sitting in the shadows, watching her from another room, I'm dreadfully sure she just caught me spying. She stands up and starts walking toward the dollhouse, and I bolt from the window and leap into bed.
I'm feigning sleep when she kneels outside my house and peers in. "Ray?" she whispers. I continue to breathe deeply. "Ray? Wake up, sweetie." I fake grogginess as I climb to my feet and walk over to the window.
"What is it, Naomi? Is everything okay?"
She smiles. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to talk to you about something."
"What's that?"
"I don't want to talk to you through this window, sweetie. Why don't you come out here?"
What choice do I have? I make my way downstairs and out the front door. Her hand is on the floor, palm up, waiting for me. Usually I prefer that to being snatched up, but coming from Naomi it's just another one of her games. She must really enjoy the fact that I'm so domesticated that I'll just crawl into her hand when called.
Still kneeling, she lifts me up to her face and smiles. "You've got a big day tomorrow, sweetie. Your friends are coming to see you."
I nod. "Yeah, I'm really excited. I've missed them."
"That's so sweet," she says. "And of course, they're gonna ask how you've been treated since you got here."
I nod again, suddenly aware of where this is going. I hadn't even thought about what I was going to tell Louise. "Probably," I reply. "And what do you expect me to tell them?"
She frowns slightly. "What do you mean? Momma's been really good to you, hasn't she?"
God, it makes my blood chill when she talks about herself in the third person. And when she calls herself "Momma." Our relationship is already sick enough without adding Oedipal riffs to it.
She shakes her head at my silence. "You're not mad about those games Momma and Cheryl play with you, are you? Coz you know we're just playing, right?"
I honestly have no idea how to respond to her. I just stare incredulously.
"Besides, you like Momma's pretty feet, don't you?"
"No," I snap. "I don't. I don't like the games, I don't like being held, hugged, cuddled, or petted." I'm shouting by now, and Naomi is the one looking incredulous. "You think it's fun? You think I enjoy being at your mercy every minute of the day? I hate you! I hate Paul and Cheryl and everybody else here! I hate this place, and I'd sell my goddamn soul if I could just wake up from this nightmare and be in my bed at SPECTRUM."
She's glaring at me, hurt and surprised by my venom. But Jesus, what did she expect? How obtuse can one person be?
She sighs and stands up, still holding me. "I have tried since you got here, you little shit," she says as she carries me into the living room. "I have bent over backwards trying to make you happy, and all you've done is mouth off to me every chance you get."
Clutching me tightly in her fist, she takes her usual spot on the couch. "You're not a guest here, Ray. You're a member of this family, and that means you have to obey the rules. And the first rule is, you do not talk to me that way!" She says the last through gritted teeth. She's really angry with me this time.
"Let me tell you what's going to happen," she says, holding me way too close to her face. Her breath, warm and wet and stinking of cigarettes, washes over me. Her vast cavern of a mouth is just inches from me, frowning angrily. I stare at her teeth with morbid fascination, imagining them tearing me to pieces. The thought makes me shudder with revulsion.
"You are going to tell your friends that you're happy here, and that everything is fine," she tells me. "And if you tell them any of those lies about Momma mistreating you, well..." She reaches down and slides her slipper off her foot. For one horrifying moment, I'm afraid she's going to put me in it again. But she lets it drop to the floor.
"Let's just say I'll show you what real mistreatment is," she says. "Do you understand me?"
Trembling in her grasp, I nod dumbly.
"Good boy," she says, then smiles at me. That wicked, predatory smile. "Now, I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you, so I'll give you a choice. Would you rather play on my foot, or just go back to bed?"
It's no choice. I know it's not. Every fiber of my being wants to shout, "Go to bed!" but I don't dare. I lost my cool and spouted off, and now she's not going to be satisfied until I've paid. Better to get it over with now, than to spend the next couple of days waiting...
Hating myself for letting her win, I sigh and say, "Play on your foot."
"What? I didn't hear that."
"Play on your foot," I say louder, feeling the bile in my throat.
"Ask me nicely," she says, leaning forward and setting me on the coffee table.
My fists are clenched, and every muscle in my body is quaking with rage and impotence. "Please, Naomi, may I play on your foot?"
"Call me Momma," she says.
"Please, Momma!" I scream as loud as I can. "Can I play on your goddamned foot?"
"Why sure, sweetie," she says. "All you have to do is ask. Why don't you go ahead and get out of those pajamas."
The tears are streaming down my face as I strip in front of her. Tears of frustration, anger, bitterness... I don't think I've ever hated anyone in my life as much as I hate Naomi right now.
Finally, I'm standing naked on the coffee table. Naomi leans back and sets her bare foot on the edge, so that her toes are level with my chest. She wiggles her toes, then fans them out. I step forward and slide in between her toes, letting them grasp me.
Despite my anger and my lack of enthusiasm, I feel myself growing erect as soon as she starts grinding her toes together. God, it's not fair that she should have this kind of power over me. She watches me with that self-satisfied grin, deriving so much enjoyment from my submission. When I finally do come, she lowers her foot to the floor and lets me go. I'm lying in a naked heap on the carpet, right next to her discarded house shoe.
"Oops, forgot your little bitty pajamas," she says, plucking them from the table with her fingernails and letting them drop. They flutter down, landing on the floor next to me. I climb to my feet and gather them up.
"Would you like a ride back to your house?" she asks me, looking down.
"That's okay," I tell her, my voice quavering. "I'll walk."
"Suit yourself, sweetie." She covers me with her foot and gives me a playful squeeze with her toes, then slides her foot back into her slipper. Without a word, she steps over me and walks off, leaving me sobbing and naked on the living room carpet.
Giantess World
Homunculus by Cayce