Two girls, Lauren and Ilia, walked down the street on a quiet college campus. It was the night before Thanksgiving break began, and many of their fellow classmates had already left campus. They laughed quietly to themselves, both of them slightly inebriated. As they walked, the sounds of raucous merriment intruded on their own. Up ahead, a sorority house was throwing a "Cowboys and Indians" party, and many of the revelers spilled into the streets. As Native Americans, the two girls could not be more offended.
"Hey!" shouted Lauren as they drew closer to the house. "What you're doing is really offensive, you know that?" Sensing a confrontation, several of the partiers moved to the sidewalk and formed a wall of solidarity.
"Oh ease up a little," said one of them, his speech slurred. "It's just a little harmless fun."
"No it's not. You have no idea how hurtful it is."
"Whatever," sneered a blond girl. She was clearly the leader. "You shouldn't even be here. The fact that you got accepted here at all is a joke."
The hostility between the two groups quickly escalated, prompting Ilia to grab Lauren's arm and draw her away. Meanwhile, the insults being hurled at them grew worse and worse, until one of the parties actually threw a cup of beer at them.
White hot rage boiled up in Lauren, and, heedless of her friend's protests, she spun around and threw a wild punch at the blond. However, she had barely even balled her hand into a fist when she was brought to her knees by the blond's friends. Her anger increased tenfold when she realized that she was being made to bow before the sorority bitch. With her head down, the girl's bare feet dominated Lauren's view. In fact, none of the "Indians," who were exclusively girls, wore shoes at all. The stench emanating from them sent her head spinning.
"Wow, how pathetic," said the blond. "I should report you for assault." Several of the partiers shouted their agreement.
"Leave her alone!" Lauren heard Ilia shout, but all she could do was stand by helplessly.
"I'll tell you what, though. We'll let you go if you do one thing... kiss my feet."
Lauren bristled at the command, and when it was clear that she had no intention of obeying, one of the girls by the blond's side stepped forward and brought her foot down on Lauren's head, forcing her lips to the blond's filthy toes.
"That's it my little Indian," purred the sister. Suddenly, Lauren was hoisted to her feet, and shoved back to the sidewalk. With tears streaming down her face, Ilia helped her friend up and the pair ran the rest of the way to their dormitory.
...
Lauren spent the next day lying in her bed. She had never felt so hopeless. So when Ilia came skipping into their shared room, whistling a jaunty tune, Lauren couldn't understand it.
"What's got you so cheery?" Lauren spat, but instantly regretted it. She shouldn't take her anger out on her friend.
Ilia brushed it off. "I got a little present for you," she said with a sly grin. With that, she drew a hand from behind her back and let... something... tumble onto their coffee table. Lauren's eyes widened -- it was one of the jocks from last night -- only smaller. He looked to be only a couple inches tall. He was clearly terrified.
"What the fuck?" Lauren whispered in disbelief. She sat up on the couch and brushed away the jet black hair shrouding her face.
"Long story short: I read about some kind of curse in my grandma's diary." Ilia shrugged. "And it worked."
Suddenly, a stream of squeaky curses issued from the little man's mouth. Lauren could just make out how offensive they really were. "Can you replicate this?" she asked in a low voice.
"I think so," said her friend.
"Good." With that, Lauren unceremoniously swept the little man off the table onto the hardwood floor. By the howls of pain, the short fall must have broken some bones. Lauren didn't care. She rose to her feet in a smooth, languid motion, all the while eyeing the man hungrily. Raising her bare foot up into the air, she allowed the jock a moment to comprehend his fate before slowly bringing her foot down onto his body. The screams intensified even as Lauren felt his futile struggles against her inexorable foot, which was a simple motion in itself. She finished him with delicious finality.
...
Liz sat down at the head of Sigma Gamma's Friendsgiving table with the rest of the sisters who had remained on campus for the break. The food looked absolutely delicious, and the air hummed with the girls' cheerful chatter.
Then the door flew open, and in came that dumb Native American chick from a couple nights ago. Liz's face twisted into a scowl -- no doubt she wanted to complain about the evil origins of the holiday or some other bullshit. Obviously she hadn't learned her lesson, and Liz would have to really humiliate her. Visions of the tanned bitch's tongue on her shoes flashed through her mind.
Liz was halfway to the door when the world exploded upwards. When her mind couldn't process what happened, she fell to her knees, not understanding the massive shapes towering above her. She cowered as a great pink wall swallowed her up, and she almost vomited from the moving and falling sensations before she found herself back on the ground, surrounded by her panicked sorority sisters.
When Liz had finally gained her bearings, her heart plummeted. They were in what appeared to be a massive tupperware, and high above them was the grinning face of the girls they had humiliated the night before. Judging by the plates of food all around them, they were on the table. What the fuck was happening?
"Happy Thanksgiving!" the gigantic girls boomed, their voices like concert speakers. Some sisters screamed while others cowered. Still others looked to be in catatonic states.
"My name is Lauren, and this is Ilia," said one of them. Both were very tan, dark-haired women who Liz would've begrudgingly called beautiful in any other circumstance. "And we want you to be thankful." She paused for effect. "I won't get into the gory details, but in my culture we give thanks to our Goddess. We'll call her Gaia, to make it simple for you." Lauren's warm smile did little to conceal her malicious intent. "Anyway, it's natural for people to give thanks to our all-encompassing Mother... but since you all aren't really people, you should really be giving thanks to us. Do you get my drift?" The other girl, Ilia, giggled. "Now since we're generous goddesses, we're happy to feed you. Aren't you hungry?"
Suddenly, one of them scooped up the tupperware, knocking them all off their feet. The violent ride ended when they went tumbling to the hardwood floor. At this size, their familiar sorority common room looked like an alien desert. Rising above them like a pair of monolithic statues sat their former victims, dressed head-to-toe in real Native American clothing.
With a wide smile, Lauren removed a bowl of mashed potatoes from the table and set it on the ground beside them. "Eat up!" she called, but of course nobody moved. Even if they had wanted to eat, there was no way for them to reach the potatoes thanks to their miniature size. With a knowing smirk, Lauren cooed sympathetically. "Oh you can't reach? Don't worry, your Goddess will take care of you." She reached down and removed a pair of old leather moccasins from her feet. Liz was struck by how badly they smelled, a fact that wasn't lost on Lauren. "Aw, you don't like my stinky feet? You should appreciate that smell. That's the smell of all the hard work I've done to get to where I am. And you'd better believe I tried my best to make sure they would be nice and fragrant for you worms. Fuck, I would've walked the Trail of Tears twice if I knew you'd riding along in my shoes."
Off to the side, Ilia had already dipped her toes into the mashed potatoes and laid them on the floor. "Happy Thanksgiving!" she crowed. "Say 'Thank you, Goddess,' or else you don't get to eat."
When no one moved, Lauren's retaliation was as awful as it was swift. Moving at incomprehensible speeds, she slammed her foot down on one unfortunate sister -- Dylan -- who had tumbled a little further away from the rest. Like a building crashing to the earth, Lauren's foot pulverized the sister instantly. She didn't even have the chance to scream.
This set off a wave of panic in the sisters. Many began to scream hysterically, as if on Dylan's behalf, while others sprinted away hopelessly. Lauren quickly put a stop to their bid for escape, bringing her foot down in front of them, a dangerously effective wall. With a sweep of her foot, she sent the would-be elopers crashing back to their sisters, heedless of breaking bones.
"Now, now, girls," said Lauren. "We want you to take Thanksgiving seriously, especially since you've been doing it wrong this whole time. Now eat from the bounty that we're so generously providing."
Terrified, Liz and the others scurried up to Ilia's awaiting toes, which were caked in mashed potatoes. The food would've been appetizing had it not been for the pieces of dirt and other filth that stood out amongst the fluffy white, as well as the foot stink that overpowered all other smells.
"Don't use your hands," commanded Ilia with a giggle. "Show your affection with your tongues." Liz's face burned with humiliation as she set to work on the giant bitch's toes. The fact that there wasn't much on there actually made matters worse. Soon Liz and her sisters were actually shoving their heads between the filthy digits, all under the giantess' watchful eyes. "Don't leave a single morsel -- that'll show how grateful you are." It wasn't long before Liz was licking whatever thin layer of mashed potatoes remained on Ilia's skin. Really she was ingesting more sweat and dead skin than potatoes, and by this point the smell had reached its zenith. More than one sister actually vomited.
"Good," said Lauren. Liz saw that half of them sisters had been working on her disgusting feet as well. "Now I think it's time for your Goddesses to eat. Feel free to keep worshipping our feet with your tongues while we enjoy this delightful offering you've made us." The girls rushed to do her bidding. They could hear the sounds of Ilia and Lauren eating the food they made while the chefs themselves ran licked their rancid feet, which tasted like a nightmarish combination of vinegar, salt, and cheese.
"You know what, Lauren?" asked Ilia theatrically.
"What is it, Ilia?"
"Well, I was thinking... this food could use a little extra something."
"I know exactly what you're thinking and I completely agree."
Before the dreadful implications had completely dawned on them, the sisters were once again snatched up into the tupperware. When Liz blearily rose to her feet, she saw Lauren staring directly at her. With a wink, she reached specifically for her, pinching her leg between two tree-trunk fingers. "I have something special in store for you," she said in a whisper that everyone could hear. Liz began crying when she saw her destination. She fell with a squelching thud onto the sole of Lauren's nasty old moccasin, the smell immediately invading her nostrils. "I want you to lick that dirty spot where my heel goes while I'm playing with your friends, ok?" Liz got on her hands and knees and set to work.
"As for the rest of you..." said Ilia. "Since we've given so much to you... we think you should give some back. Your bodies will serve as excellent nourishment for your Goddesses." Liz began to sob in earnest now as the blood curdling screams reached her in her prison. In some ways, it almost made it worse that she could only hear the cries of anguish of her sisters as they were wantonly devoured. Whether it was from stress or sheer terror, Liz fainted.
...
Ultimately, Lauren and Ilia didn't eat all of the sisters. It was a good thing, too, because for whatever reason, they were never able to get the curse to work again. They kept a few alive as slaves, but at their size, they were good for pretty much nothing except licking feet. Thanks to her prominent role from that first night, Liz in particular was forced to do all sorts of awful things. Hardly enough, though, considering the horrors whites had visited upon their ancestors. Lauren and Ilia never once showed the girls the slightest mercy, and they were eventually able to extract every ounce of the girls' spirits over the course of many years. Although the days blended together into one awful nightmare for the little slaves, for a few reasons, they always knew exactly when it was Thanksgiving.
Giantess World
Story Notes:
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Unfortunately I didn't have enough time to do this idea justice. But anyway, here's a little something for y'all to reflect on this Turkey Day!