The Chamber

by

Asukafan2001

 Copyright 2005-2007. Giantess Planet. All Rights Reserved.

I awoke in a tan prison. The entire room had an all too familiar look to it. Clothes of all types were strewn about the room leaving it smelling stuffy and of old sweat mixed with perfume.

            Everything I looked at had a tan tint to it so it made looking out at any one object a bit of a struggle. As I looked out at the room it self I found it was rather weird. It didn’t have a bedroom feel to it. It felt more like…

            It was at that moment I saw the door open up. Standing in the door was Larisa from work. I couldn’t believe how huge she looked. I tried to stand up but it was like trying to stand up on a hammock. As soon as I stood I tumbled back down onto my ass as I swung helplessly in here as a wave of air wafted over me causing the prison I was in the sway back and forth against the wall. I continued to look out of my tan colored prison at the gigantic Larisa. I couldn’t believe this had happened, in fact I couldn’t even remember how this happened.

            The last thing I remember was that I was on duty, I own a Mc Donald’s you see. I am more of a hands on owner so I usually manage a couple of shifts a week. I had sent Larisa home and that was last thing I remember. I know there should be more but it’s all so fuzzy.

            It was at that moment I saw Larisa’s stare meet my own. Her lips turned up smirking happily as she looked down at me. She began to head towards me, her foot steps causing the tan prison to swing back and forth more feverishly. It began to scrap against the wall, the grinding noise was grating at my ears as she neared.

            Larisa’s blonde locks of hair spilled down over her hazel eyes as she crouched down transfixed onto me. She blew her hair out of her face. I nervously looked out at her knowing there was no where for me to go.

            I kept asking what was going on but she acted as if I wasn’t saying anything, maybe it was just that she couldn’t hear me. Whatever it was I was left looking up at her as she stood back up continuing to smile at me.

            I watched her walk over to her dresser and pull out a small jar. It looked to be a baby food jar. Larisa’s eyes lit up with the glee of a little girl getting a Barbie doll that she has always wanted, or a teenager getting there first car. She knelt down and spilled the contents of the jar out onto the floor.

            I watched her eyes lock onto the small man who was running across her floor. Larisa was just watching him run across one of her sweaters, however as soon as he cleared her sweater and touched the floor she lifted her foot up and lowered it down on top of the helpless man. I listened and watched him cry out in agony as her bare foot was smothering him into the ground. His arms came up through the gap between her toes. His arms were waving and pounding against the toe roughly as he tried to beat her toe off of him. I could hear his hopeless gasps for air, in fact I could hear a little too clearly for my liking, but it was the silent diabolical laughing in Larisa’s eyes that scared me most. She curled her foot around the tiny man sealing him in her fleshy prison. His futile attempt to break her foots mighty hold on him made me feel his pain. As she uncurled her foot I saw him stuck to the bottom of her foot. He was glued via her sweat, struggling like a fly trapped in honey. She then slid her foot into a pair of white slippers. His struggles and cries vanished as she walked out of the room.

            I didn’t find out till much later that he was crushed to death. I could see the blood stained into her slippers but there were no remains of him. I couldn’t believe this girl had done this. This nice sweet girl who I hired had murdered this poor man without thought, without conscience.

            I struggled with the thought for some time; it haunted me in my dreams. I would be lying flat in her slipper and then I would see her foot coming down towards me. The bottom of her foot would land on top of me, my face would be shoved against her, the tender underside of her foot. My lips would be stuck no matter how hard I tried to pull them away there was no where for them to go they were stuck pressed up against the underside of her foot. I would prey for her step down all the way on me just to get out of this hellish nightmare. Just so I wouldn’t have to smell the putrid air but it was then she did what I had asked she pressed all her weight down on me for her first step. This was going to be it I thought to myself but no, even with all her weight on me it wasn’t enough to crush me. I would have the unfortunate misery of living through her first step, her second, her third, and the number climbing with her every step. I would spend my time praying that this step would be the one that would do me in but it never happens. The time in which I have no memory of just ticks by ever so slowly with me aware of every second, every moment.

            It is usually at that moment I wake up from my dreams. I say wake up from my dreams because I no longer need sleep. It was one of the many pleasures which she robbed from me. My body no longer requires the drug that all of you can so fruitfully enjoy. I can sleep, but I don’t need too. In fact getting into a state where I can allow myself to dream is a struggle in itself but that is a story for another time. Please excuse me, sometimes I get off on these little side tangents so I apologize.

            Like I was saying I was looking out through this tan prison which I have come to find out is an old nylon. An old ratty pair to make matters worse, they smell like they had been worn a couple of times and never washed. The smell of her sweat is engrained into the fibers of the nylon. One would think that they would get use to the smell of these sweaty nylons but you never do. The smell is just unique enough that you never quite learn to get use to it and the worst part of all is knowing that each day the smell will only get worse.

            The smell is not the worst torture though. The worst part is watching her live her life while I am here. I watch her friends come and go; her boyfriends come and go none of them so much as caring that I am here. It’s almost like I am just an accepted part of the environment. Some of them laugh, some of them point, but none of them think of me as human or equal. I think that is how they can do what they do. To them I am not like them and this is easiest to tell in Larisa. I know that she thinks that I am not human and I don’t know if I even am anymore. All I know is that I am Larisa’s and here is why. This is where everything starts.