Vance's vision was hazy and dark. Darkness filled the room, but he could still tell that his vision would be blurry if he could see anything. The room smelled odd; something pleasant and familiar. A mix of flowery lotion and detergent, but it was subtle enough to be exquisite. The floor was hard below him, but there was something incredibly soft and cottony between him and the floor, so the texture was smooth and pleasing. He rubbed his hand on it, enjoying the feeling, and realized the room wasn't what smelled, it was whatever was beneath him. He grabbed at it, and was surprised as it bunched together in his hand like a blanket. He brought it up to his face and buried himself in it, sniffing at it's lovely aroma. He breathed out heavily before deciding it was time to find out where he was. He began crawling slowly across the smooth floor, but it didn't take long for him to bump his head into something soft. More blankets. They all smelled just like the one he was one, but they were folded and stacked higher than he could reach. He pulled out one of the blankets a small amount to make a landmark, and began carefully making his way along the wall of flower scented blankets. Eventually he came to a corner, and turned with the wall. This happened another three times before he would find himself at his landmark again.

Damn.

Temporarily defeated, he sat and pondered his situation. What was the last thing he could remember? He was studying... and then... nothing. He beat himself on the head with his hands, trying to wrack his brain for more to work with, but nothing was coming to mind. Besides smelling amazing, the air was breathable, and warm enough that he didn't need to use the blankets. The thought crossed his mind to pull over one of the stacks of blankets, but he laughed it off as stupid. What would he do when they fell on him? Suffocate? What's beyond those walls? He was a little hungry and thirsty, but he knew he had quite a bit of time left before he needed to eat anything. He put his hands on his hips and realized he was naked. Had he been naked this whole time?

He plopped down on the floor, when suddenly he heard an enormous crash in the distance. No, not a crash... a gate? It sounded like a door opening and closing, but it was unfathomably louder. Titanic footsteps, each one louder than the last. The floor beneath him shook and he tumbled with it. Light flooded into his cage from above, where a crack of light swiftly grew into a large screen of it, and a giant hand reached down. It took enough time finding him for him to realize that he hadn't been on blankets, he was on and surrounded by gigantic pairs of panties. The hand clasped him firmly in a fist, pinning his arms at his sides, completely covering him in its fingers from head to toe. That's how big a size difference there was here. He was terrified. He felt it in his stomach, he was rising quickly. He could feel his nose start to bleed from the immense altitude gain. The hand relaxed, and he felt himself falling in the air, more quickly than a human should. Much more quickly. In less than a second, he fell what must have been multiple football fields onto what looked like a gigantic bed.

And now he could see it. The hand belonged to his sister. The bed wasn't huge, the panties weren't huge, the door wasn't huge, she wasn't huge... it's him that was the problem here. He was tiny. The memories came flooding back to him. Somehow, she shrunk him when she pointed at him. He bounced up and down on the mattress, and when he stopped, he looked up at his colossal sister. Even know, looking up at her (which was a bad angle to begin with), she was pretty. He felt no physical attraction for her because she was his sister, but he could still see how gorgeous she was. She was dressed in a black t-shirt with short sleeves and long black pants. The look on her face told the story of a girl who was ready to get what she wanted, and wasn't afraid to hurt people to get there. His face blushed as he realized he was nude in front of his own sister. He covered his private parts desperately, hoping to mitigate his shame.

"No." She spat. No? What did she mean? He looked up at her with a clear face of confusion. She responded by kneeling down and slapping her hand down next to him. His life flashed before his eyes. That could have been it right there. If she had moved her hand to the left a little, it would have squished him like a bug. The impact alone sent him flying in the air. When he was back on steady ground again, he looked up at her, hands still covering his crotch.

"Your hands." She commanded. "Move them." He looked down at his crotch, then back at her. There was no way he was moving his hands. "I will hogtie you." She threatened.

He gulped as he moved his hands away from his crotch, and made up for it by repositioning his legs to hide his member. She scowled. "No more games." She demanded. Her enormous hand moved towards him and forced his legs apart. Her other hand quickly flicked him in the balls, her finger landing against them with a *snap*. 

"AAAAHHHHHHHHH!" He screamed in agony, writhing on her bed in pain.

"It wasn't even that hard." She laughed. "You get it now though, right? Pay attention to why I'm asking you to do something, rather than just what it is I'm asking you to do." He couldn't even hear her over his brain panicking, unsure of how to handle the sheer amount of suffering he was going through.

"I'll give you a minute." She smiled, and plopped her butt onto the carpet.

---

A few minutes later, he was sitting again, looking at her. He still winced every now and then from the throbbing soreness she left in his balls with the flick of her finger, but he was able to actually move again.

"How did you-" He began, but stopped suddenly when her finger was pushing his face down, the back of his head pressing into the mattress. He couldn't breathe, and the pressure was causing significant pain.

"You don't talk unless I give you permission, or ask you a question." She said. He nodded with her finger still pressing into him, but she didn't relent. Ten more seconds went by and her finger gave no leeway. He began to panic. He tapped her... maybe she forgot.

20 seconds.

He could feel her unwavering power pressing down on him, the doughy flesh of her finger moulding to the shape of his face, but squishing it as well. The pressure on his nose was painful enough to cause tears to swell in his eyes. He kept tapping on her, now with both hands, harder and faster. What was she playing at?

30 seconds.

He could feel his lungs trying to contract, trying to breathe out and in and failing to do so. Her finger wasn't twitching or shaking in the slightest. There was no hesitation or second guessing here; she knew exactly what she was doing. She wanted to show him just how much more powerful she was than him. He got it. He understood. He stopped using any of his muscles, letting his arms flop onto the bed. If there was no more life in him, she would let go and he could breath again.

40 seconds.

There was no sign of stopping. Had she called his bluff? There's no way. He could feel shuffling. He knew it. She was getting ready to let go. He was barely managing to stop himself from twitching or making movements, but he had done it.
The shuffling stopped.
The finger stayed.

50 seconds.

He couldn't believe it. She was going to hill him. He began pounding on her finger as hard as he could, pushing against it with all his might. It did nothing. He tried to move his face to get the smallest amount of breathe, but to no avail. He was in a vice grip, and she was only using a single finger. His body started convulsing and twitching uncontrollably. Normally he could probably go for two minutes, but the force of her finger had knocked the wind out of him. He was surprised to have lasted 30 seconds, let alone this long. His actions started getting weaker, and weaker...

60 seconds.

This was it. He could feel himself losing his grip on life. His body had stopped convulsing. A tingly sensation filled his head and the rest of his body. He could feel his own heartbeat slowing down. His lungs stilled tried to save him but it was useless. He was done. His life was over. Ended at the hands of his little sister.
The finger rose up, bringing with it a sweet respite. He took a deep breath, the deepest one of his life. His brain wasn't functioning well enough to notice that the shifting from earlier was her getting into a position to use her big toe next, which fell onto his face with no warning, putting more pressure onto it than her finger had.

"We'll do my other big toe next, and then my other finger... and maybe this big toe last just for good measure." She said plainly. "From this point on, you'll never talk without being talked to again.
She was damn right about that.

...

Fuck.