This blind torment carried on for several cheerful minutes. Just when Maggie thought it was over, she was collected into the soupy surface of her mother’s tongue again and splashed like a pancake into the cheek wall. Variety of the worst kind.
After a while this pattern was getting dull, though, at least to Maggie, who was used to some physical tribulation from punishing soccer league drills. Almost on cue, Judy shifted the gentle bouncing from cheek to cheek. Instead, the giant mother’s mouth converged on her tiny prisoner. The walls of those cheeks closed in, air compressed from the space.
Maggie found herself tubed into the grip of her parent’s monstrous tongue at the center. Its swampy, unrelenting mass pulsed from the contact with her body. Tasting her, probably, the digestive enzymes beginning their work at a molecular level. Fresh spit seeped from every pink skin cell, the woman’s mouth evidently accommodating of its potential morsel. To think of these middle school science lessons now repulsed the girl all the greater. Even greater than the sickening sensation of her nethers being smothered by her own mother’s mouth on all sides; this was a revelation Maggie had to force to the side of her thoughts or face breakdown.
However, physically resistance in loathing of the balmy citrus air and viscous terrain was all but impossible. Maggie attempted thrashing at one point, flinging her legs every which way, but she was firmly burritoed by her mother’s lashing muscle. She even tried screaming, if only to catch her mother off guard. This only succeeded in filling the base of Maggie’s lips beneath her tongue with a generous blob of foreign saliva. She wouldn’t be making that mistake twice.
In the intervening seconds, Maggie found she was mostly left alone. Strapped into the tubed tongue, her actions mattered little, but at least she wasn’t being thrown around any longer. Her mother’s cheeks squelched as they sponged to and fro, in bizarre imitation of octopi suction cups. It was then the girl realized what was happening as her skin was plastered once again to the walls of riveted taste bites, only to be released again at the undulation of those cheeks.
She was being sucked on. Judy was sucking on her daughter’s inch-tall body like a mint.
“Oh, Mom!” Maggie groaned. “That’s so effing gross!” She instantly regretted speaking up again, and as she spat out another mouthful of goo, she only shook her head. This was all going so wrong. None of this was proceeding how she recognized it, and had recognized it, for all these years with access to a size-changing ray in the house. This was what happened to Scott. Scott, not her.
All Maggie could think of now throughout this entire disorienting trip of a punishment was how satisfying it was going to be later when she found an excuse to do the same to Scott. Even as the girl was squeezed between the pair of cheeks and redeposited on Judy’s tongue, spit-clogged hair matted to her face, she pressed her tongue to the roof of her own mouth.
She imagined her pathetic, inch-tall criminal of a sibling, the boy she’d been given the legal right to abuse for his wrongs. She imagined him hugged to the roof of her mouth and swished in her mounting saliva. She imagined him moaning for release, his little limbs fighting against the rows of her teeth and tonsils.
Despite the disgust of her current surroundings, Maggie managed the unlikeliest of smirks in the dark. God, it would be sweet to turn the tables. It was only unfortunate she couldn’t enact the same payback on Judy, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, or rather: Maggie didn’t get to pick the hierarchy of the shrinking device. She just got to use it to her heart’s content on her hapless older brother.
Judy’s tongue exercises came to a startling halt as light and fresh oxygen flooded back inside the cave. A murmur of relaxed elation bubbled up from Judy’s gullet. The giant disciplinarian extended her tongue past her teeth, with her daughter sprawled upon it.
Maggie was so thoroughly coated from every angle in the plasma of her mother’s saliva, that her body was glued to the rubbery muscle on contact with cool air. A thumb and forefinger fastened themselves with practiced grace around the girl’s shapely hips. Judy pried her daughter away from her tongue, stretching a seemingly endless strand of spit from Maggie’s thighs down to the serpentine organ inside Judy’s jowls. At last the sticky string came disconnected. The senatorial hopeful held her beloved prize out before her own enormous sea-blue eyes.
“Now, I suppose we’ve learned a little lesson now, haven’t we, sweetie?” Judy questioned with the lilting promise of a stern schoolteacher.
“Ooog,” Maggie said. She wiped her knuckles over her lips and coughed.
“Yes, I suppose we have,” Judy answered for herself. “Think you’ll be testing out any more adult behaviors in your free time again?”
“I kinda said before… I mean-” Maggie corrected bitterly. The last thing she needed right now was to inherit her stupid brother’s lack of common sense and bark back at this woman who had the power to put her anywhere she desired. “-I mean no. I won’t be drinking anymore, Mom. I promise.”
“I’m so pleased to hear that, Margaret,” Judy declared. “Now, if you like, go ahead and shake out your arms and take a deep breath. Make it count. I’m sure this next part will prove… a little challenging, as well. But nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.”
“Next p… Mom!”
“I’m sorry, dear, I truly am,” Judy admitted. She sunk back in her chair and propped one broad bare foot over her knee. “But we have rules in this house. And I don’t bend them an inch for anyone. Even my favorite daughter.”
Judy’s size-twelve appendage flexed and scrunched its meaty width, the buttery wrinkles of her sole a particular threat in Maggie’s eyes as she was lowered down toward her mother’s lower leg. The girl shook her head, her body limp with aggravation and anticipatory perturbance.
She still wasn’t afraid. She’d never be afraid. But that didn’t mean Maggie wasn’t thoroughly repelled in her every fiber as she was pressed face-first, snow-angel style into her mother’s expansive, warm-blooded sole. Judy’s thumb planted and twisted gently but firmly into the small of her inch-tall daughter’s back. The girl wasn’t going anywhere.
“Now, I understand this lesson has little direct correlation with what you choose to imbibe, honey, but just work with me here,” Judy whispered in lullaby. “I know you’re such a fan of this particular form of punishment for your brother. Perhaps it would do you some good to experience it once in a while, as well, for perspective?”
Maggie grunted. She endured the earthy aroma and doughy sole wrinkles caressing past her cheeks. And she swore up and down inside her heart that she would, indeed, remind herself of perspective, just as soon as she regained her full size, what it felt like to be the lording queen with a tiny family member molded to her plush instep.
She smiled again, broader than ever.