• 7 •

Linear algebra. The more time I spend with mathematics, the more I doubt that my future lies in this field. The professor explains squeeze mapping, something I already understood in the preparatory course.

I just love the plain truth of mathematics, the elegant simplicity of number theory. The mathematical proof is the only proof worth bearing that name, other than the empirical proof that only means that so far no one found an exception from a rule. A mathematical proof, though, is valid to all eternity – were it not for Gödel’s incompleteness theorems, but that’s another matter.

But all these tools of the trade are wearing me out, somehow.

I try to suppress a yawn, but to no effect. I stare at the monitor of my open laptop before me. After a moment I google for ‘shrunken man’. More than eight million results. Videos, porn sites and a seemingly endless cache of pictures, most pretty amateurish, but some stuff is also well made. I try ‘giantess’ and get more than thirteen million results. With this mass of respective material available, I sincerely doubt that this fetish is so eminently exotic or even rare. Surprising and interesting at once.

I look at my fellow students around me. How many of them might secretly dream of some interaction with someone much smaller or bigger? By probability, there should be a few. At least one. Aside from me, that is.

What if Justin was one of them? Did I unwittingly satisfy a secret wish of his by shrinking him and maybe even by putting him underfoot? It came to me as a perfect natural impulse, there and then. When I look at this stuff before me, feet do play an important role, it seems. I remember how desperate he pleaded for his life and can’t help but chuckle. With certainty, I did teach him the difference between wish and reality. And still not a scintilla of remorse in me.

Somebody flops into the seat beside me, placing his feet up on the backrest of the forward row.

Graham Stark. He grins audaciously at me, then peers at my computer.

“Aaah, thinking about your future career as a goddess? Goddess Kim – sounds good to me. I sure wouldn’t mind to grovel at your feet.” He gives me a wink, does a finger pistol and clicks his tongue.

I narrow my eyes in suspicion as I turn to look at him. He’s a handsome guy with a blithe spirit. His bold and forward bearing is somewhere between offensive and ambiguous, but he wears it that charmingly, it always lifts my spirit. Right now, I can’t show this, though.

“For what infernal reason you’re pestering me now, twerp?”

“You slap me with words like steel, most revered Lady! What have I done to deserve such harsh penalty?” His camp reaction is so hilarious, I snort and have to check myself hard to not burst with laughter.

“I’m sure you’re discussing algebra, Mr. Stark, but I’d be most grateful if you did so after the lecture – as grateful as the janitor when you put your feet to ground now, thank you very much indeed.” Professor Houten is obviously bugged by Graham’s disruptive chatter, but I receive a venomous glare from him, too.

“Thanks a lot, moron!” I drive my elbow nastily into Graham’s ribs. He barely suppresses a moan and sits upright.

“Ouch! You’re lucky I’m wearing my rubber ribs!”

Another upset glance by Professor Houten slows his momentum.

“I’m sorry, chief, just been expressing my excitement!” Graham calls towards him placatory.

I click through the pictures on the screen. Now and then I enlarge one for a better view. A close-up of a blonde with her head thrown back, dangling a shrunken guy above her mouth opened wide. I point at it and cast a questioning look at Graham. He pouts and waggles his hand, signalling a ‘better not’. The next one shows a tiny man fleeing from a giantess chasing him. Graham nods affirmative. Then I enhance a picture of a shrunken male kneeling, applying a kiss to a bare female foot. This time he gives me double thumbs up. A close shot of a black flat, crushing a tiny man under its sole with blood and guts oozing out, makes Graham grimace, but I’m sure there was a short flash of excitement before. Highly interesting…

All things come to an end, and so does this lecture.

 “Care to join me at the canteen?” Graham’s question jolts me out of my thoughts.

I cram the rest of my stuff into my bag and sling it over my shoulder. I glare at him for a long moment. Again, this grin of his as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He’s cheeky and presumptuous, but damn, he’s such a cute lout.

“Why, in the world, would I want to have lunch with a one like you?” No need to make this too easy for him.

“Am I unworthy? Impure?” His overexaggerated hangdog look again makes me chuckle.

“These are no categories to me. No, doofus, you simply annoy the hell out of me!”

“Annoy? Wow, you’re a forbearing woman, I thought I were in enrage mode already. You should witness me inducing a frenzy…”

My laughter emerges from deep within. I playfully shove him towards the exit.

“Get a move on, then! But if someone’s asking, we’re not going together but into the same direction by accident.”

The ten-minute-walk to the canteen is fairly amusing. When we sit down with our food trays, I’m in ebullient spirits.

“So, what are you doing when you’re not busy ignoring Professor Houten?” Ah, Graham’s opening the game by reading off my leisure time activities.

“Oh, then I ignore someone else.” I shrug and smile defiantly.

“Obviously you’re very much into sports. Synchronised swimming? Curling?”

“Extreme chequers. I tried freestyle chess last year, but suffered a meltdown from the stress.”

“Aww, poor pumpkin!” He taps my hand sympathetically. “Anything except sports and studying? Mastering the art of the whale song, perhaps? Creating sculptures from week-old cream pies? Odd mattress gymnastics?” The latter he accentuates, arching his brows.

Yah, man, that’s where you wanted to be from the very first moment, hm? Not so fast, lil’ cricket…

“Nope. I vowed chastity. After the university I plan to become a nun.” That hit home! I must perform pretty good, for his smile falters visibly for a moment before he regains his composure.

“Sh’ya right! You a nun - that’s a good one!” His smile is even broader now and I can sense some true relief.

I just keep a straight face and stuff some grilled chicken breast in my mouth.

“What’s so funny?”

Again, Graham seems a bit rattled. He stares at me, cocking his head. Then he laughs out again.

“Kudos! You almost got me. If you have an actress’ career in mind, you’re on the best way.”

I shrug and keep on eating wordlessly.

“Okay, put up or shut up: why were you looking for that giantess stuff?” His tone is still casual, but with more tenseness than before.

 “Plain interest.”

“No…? No! There’s more about it.” He looks inquisitively and I enjoy having him in the defence now. “You have a boyfriend or at least met someone else who’s into it.”

“Why can’t I be interested in this all by myself?”

“Oh, you can, but meeting a girl who’s really into this kind of fetish stuff is a jackpot. Usually, it’s a male thing.”

“I’m not quite sure if this can be considered sexism.” As expected, he shrugs my objection away. Graham launches into another question and I silence him with a single motion.

“No. My turn to ask. Why do you know about this stuff? Are you into it yourself?”

“Kind of, yes.” He nods carefree and his frankness baffles me. I motion him to go on, though.

“I’ve been into trampling my whole life. By my opinion, this giantess thing is very close to it.”

“Okay, trampling means… a girl treading on you and, well, trampling on you? Barefoot or with her shoes on?”

“Both is okay for me. See, when I was a boy, we used to aggravate the girls. You know that childish stuff, I suppose. When they chased us, I often ‘accidentally’ stumbled and fell and then they pounced on me, kicking and stomping. One girl, Sarah Olsson – she was huge for her age – often placed her foot on my back or stomach and held me down while the other girls blistered me. Gawd, it’s been wonderful!”

I cast some disconcerting look at Graham, but right now I wish I could do a swap with those girls.

“Okay, let’s leave it at that, for now. Why do you think that’s related with the giantess thing? I mean, if you were that tiny and a girl stepped on you, you’d most likely get crushed underfoot. Is dying the thrilling part of it?” I hope my voice doesn’t quiver, for that’d surely betray my own commotion.

“No, that’s a bit more complicated. A few years back, I persuaded a girl to trample me. I had chosen her, for she was a tall and heavy woman. Not obese, but sturdy built and voluminous. I was eagerly raring to feel her on me. In my imagination, she was perfectly suited. When she tread on me, though, I immediately feared she’d crush me gravely and I panicked. Truth is, she was far too heavy for me. My desire wanted much, much more than I could take for real.”

So what? This is no answer at all. I shrug and shake my head questioning.

“In our fantasies we want much more than we could possibly handle in reality. For your question this means, the thrilling part would be, for example, watching the giantess crush another tiny guy; thus, you know she’s able and willing to do so. I’m no suicidal lunatic, so: no, I don’t want to get killed, I want her to spare me. But the thought that she could squish me like a bug at any time is highly thrilling indeed!”

I chuckle candidly amused. If you just knew, boy… For a second I’m tempted to tell him, but then I check myself.

“You seem not completely disgusted. May I hope…?” Graham stares at me and for the first time ever I see him insecure but sincere.

“Hope for what?”

“May I allure you to trample me? I’d love to be your rug!” He sounds so keen and craving, I just have to let him dangle.

“I don’t know…” Neither ‘yes’ nor ‘no’ – I’ll keep you in suspense until you freak out.

“You’ll never know if you like it until you tried.” He almost manages to appear impervious. Almost…

“It’s not that you don’t deserve to get kicked until you gasp for forgiveness. I just fear that I get myself into it and you falter and whine like with the rubenesque woman you mentioned. For if you were under my feet, I doubt I’d be gracious.”

His look is priceless! I virtually have him drooling with desire now.

“Would you kneel down before me and kiss my shoes?”

“Absolutely! I’d love to, I mean, during a game it’s…” Graham’s overanxious to please me. How far will he go?

“I mean: here and now!”

From one second to the next, his head is bright crimson. Humiliating himself before me in the well-frequented canteen isn’t something he planned, obviously. He gawks stunned and struggles for words.

“Tell you what: think about it and ask me again the next time we meet.” I stand up, cast my sweetest smile at him and walk off. I don’t have to turn around to know he’s staring behind me, I can feel his gaze burn a hole in my back.

So much for being cocky. Another one bites the dust!