"Zoey wai-" was all I got out. . . . My first words to her in over a month. . . But they did no good.


The auburn haired giantess smashed my manhood under the rubber tip of the pencil. With my back to her bare stomach, she felt every jolt of my body as she began to roll the pencil between her fingers, rubbing my package raw while still crushing it into the desktop.


I fought and struggled more furiously than I ever had in my life, but her one hand, and blue panties were enough to keep me from escaping.


The camera captured it all as I went from howls of pain, to curses, to tears as the giantess pulverized me for sport. She switched from grinding, to tapping, and I immediately felt the effects.


3 taps in, I involuntarily vomited, small chunks of bread and v8 ran down my chest.


Zoey laughed above me. "Not so tough now, are you?" She asked, as much to the camera as to me. "You thought you had the balls to stand up to me, but just look where those little balls are now, huh!"


Zoey continued on, farming more screams at the top of my lungs. I imagine it felt good for her to have someone so often the source of her self confidence issues and self doubt, so firmly under her thumb.


Another particularly hard tap, was met with a second spew of vomit, coating my chest and the surface of the desk. I heard Zoey chuckle. She repeated the tap and earned another and another, until I was left painfully dry heaving. Only then did she stop her onslaught of me.


She freed my arms, and the slump of my body pulled my legs free and allowed me to collapse face first into the pool of bodily fluid I had created. I could only sputter and cough.


"Now clean yourself up!" She spat, ruthlessly before her exaggerated stomps left the room.


She was gone just long enough, that she could edit herself out when she came back in. She said not a word to me, and only grabbed the camera before she walked back out into the living room.



Holy fuck. . .


She had been rough on me before, but this was straight bullshit. I was no less beat then when she had brought me in, so I still was unable to move. I did my best to just roll out of my puddle and just layed spread eagle on the desk.


I. . . I really dont know how much more I can take. . . . Not just beating wise. . . All together. 6 months. . . 6 months I've been here. She keeps me under lock and key. Her lack of a significant social life and friends meant that she was all over me all the time. Only when she was at work was there any reprieve from her overbearing personality. I had to get out of here.



Hours later, I was finally able to stand. My stomach still hurt, and my balls were black and blue. By then, the vomit had dried on my chest and face, but my whole body felt crusty. I nearly fell climbing down from the desk, catching myself at the last moment.


It took me some time, but I eventually made my way out into the living room and was on my way to my bed when Zoey called out to me from her seat on the couch. She had her laptop open and her slender bare feet on the coffee table.


"Hey Preston, come here a minute!" She said casually.


I only gave her a dirty look [I don't know if she could see it or not] and rounded the corner into her room.


Right away I heard her laptop close and felt the force of her steps coming for me. Knowing I couldn't handle anything more, I dropped to my knees, and cowered with my hands over my head. She came to a stop with her big feet on either side me.


"Hey, what's your problem? I asked you nicely!" She said to me like she was resolving a conflict with a friend.


This is where the disconnect between her actions and her thoughts lived. This girl who had just most likely sterilized me with a fucking eraser, now had the audacity to ask me for anything. . . . Then question why I gave her the fuck you.

I remained curled and shaking as this grizzly bear of a woman sniffed around her prey. She nudged me with her toes, but I didn't react.

"I just want you to see what you think of my edit. . . I added some new special effects to it." She informed me, quietly but proudly.

I only shook my head no, and continued to shake it.

"Jesus! Ok, fine!" She relented. "At least let me wash you off or something."

She reached down to grab me by my ribs, and I flinched and flattened my belly to the carpet to get away from her. Zoey withdrew her hand and just stared at me, unsure of what to do. It felt like when you step on a pet's tail.

"If you don't stand up, I'm gonna st-" she began but stopped herself. "You're such. . . You're so . . . "

She was struggling. . . . Struggling internally with her inability to deal with situations nonviolently. She physically had to restrain herself from hurting me any further.

With a stomp of her foot, she turned and walked back into the living room. In peace and quiet, I finished my trek to my bed and collapsed face down.


I awoke the next morning, feeling a whole hell of a lot better. To my surprise, my whole body had been washed clean, and I smelled fresh. I had no recollection of her fucking with me last night, but I guess I'm alright with it. It beat being covered in dried puke.

As I sat up, I also noticed that there was a fresh stack of paper, cut to my size by my bed. . . . She was trying to butter me up. To top it all off, she had left her bedroom door open for a change.

Looking at her alarm clock, I saw that it 9:27. She had been gone for a while and she never came home for lunch so I had at least until 5:30 all to myself. Although my body was still tender, I wandered out into the living room. There, Zoey's gifts continued.

On the floor, she had left a paper plate with some slices of meat and cheese and the t.v. was on for me. All nice gestures, but I was still furious with her. It was time to make moves, and see to it that she burned.

First, I stuffed my aching stomach with all the food. There was no point in scheming with an empty stomach.

Being here this long, I knew there really wasn't any way out on my own. I would need outside help. The problem was, from what Zoey had told me there were no neighbors on either side of her apartment nor below. I don't know the details, but apparently she lived in an apartment geared toward the elderly and everyone had recently been either moved, or passed away. It was the perfect situation for holding somebody prisoner.

On top of that, her apartment only had one window that faced the street and after studying for an hour, I realized that nobody ever took the sidewalk in her neighborhood.

Problems. . . Serious problems.

It seemed the only way out was the front door. Things to think about.

I spent the rest of the day, lounging on the couch and just drawing anything and everything. It was therapeutic for me. As the day wore on, my body began to feel even better and by the time 5:30 rolled around, I was about 88%


I heard Zoey stomping down the hall and the key in the door. She swung it open and slammed it shut. . . . Another bad day.


She gave me the stink eye as she walked through the living room and went into her room, closing the door behind her. I thought I could hear her sobbing, but it wasn't like I actually cared. An hour later she emerged.

Her red face and smeared make up confirmed that she had been crying. Instead of her normal attire of panties, she had on a wife beater, sweatpants and fuzzy socks. Zoey walked over to the couch and sat down heavily on the side opposite myself.

We sat in silence for a bit, but I could tell from her body language she wanted me to ask her what was wrong. . . I declined. My small shoulders were none to be cried on, and I personally didn't give a shit what she was going through. I knew it would be something along the lines of "my boss is such an asshole!", a story I had heard a million times before. I could only feel so bad for a person in her position at all, on top of the fact that she didn't just quit her job and get over it.

After the 4th or 5th deep sigh, she was sick of waiting and just began to speak.

"You know, you men can really be unappreciative bastards you know that?" She stated out of nowhere.

I didn't take the bait and continued to sketch the living room as seen from my spot on the couch.

"It's like. . . You work hard. . . Get to work early. . . Stay late. . . And guess who gets the fucking promotion?. . . . The new guy! The bosses "new best friend!" She ranted.

She stared at me, apparently waiting for some type of response, but I remained silent. I guess this course of action was unsatisfactory, because she immediately shifted gears and focused on me.

"Well?" She Asked like She was expecting something. .

"Well what?" I asked her back.

She rolled her eyes in irritation. "Well aren't you going to thank me for everything i did for you today?"

I only chuckled and continued to draw, looking up at the room.

This pissed her off.

"What's so funny!?" She challenged, glaring at me.

I took a deep breath and chose my words carefully.

"What's so funny, is that you stomped the fuck out of me. . . Twice, then destroyed my fucking balls with a pencil eraser until I vomited, then continued past that until I COULD no longer vomit, and only then did you leave me to "clean myself up"! Now, you're here asking for a thank you because you did maybe 10 minutes worth of work in my name. . . . . Well let me tell you something. . . You can fuck right off with that load of bullshit!" I stated, my tone ice cold.

Her faced turned the tell tale shade of red. Retribution was incoming, but I was unphased. At this point, I had ceased giving any shits about it.

She didn't even bother to threaten, and just reached for me, looking to grab my ankle.

"See, here you go! Just gonna bully your way through this huh? This is probably why your boss doesn't respect you. You're a real piece of trash. Your tiny, fucked up mind doesn't make the connection between how you act, and why people don't like you. If you got that handled, you could probably make some actual friends. . . Who knows. " I tore into her with a vengeance.

She froze, her hand just about to grab my leg. She withdrew it, and stood up. She had tears welling up in her eyes now. I wanted to make her cry. . . . I really did. She stood, just looking down on the little man who had just kicked her ass.

Without her noticing, I switched paper sheets, and got the beginning frame work of her standing there, trying not to cry. It was very rough, but I would clean it up and have an amazing picture of this. A moment later, she turned and walked away, back to her room. She flopped down on her bed, buried her face in her pillow, and let out a muffled scream that I imagine would have been ear piercing if not for the pillow.


The rest of the night, and the rest of the week for that matter, were uneventful. Zoey left me alone and straight up avoided me all together. She spent 90% of her time in the studio with the door closed doing lord knows what. Whenever I would enter a room, she would immediately leave and go somewhere else, not even laying a finger on me.


I also noticed that she wore clothes the entire time now, except when she slept. I guess I never realized that she only ever did that for my benefit because I hated her guts. . . . You learn something new every day.


We lived in peace that way for an entire week. I thought about asking her to let me go, but when she wasn't constantly tormenting me, the situation wasn't that bad honestly. I have to admit. . . That as a struggling artist outside these walls, I wasn't always the best at keeping a residence, and the night I actually met Zoey, I had just been kicked out of my art studio when the landlord found out I was squatting there.



Oh well, nothing to dwell on now. I heard Zoey walking up the hallway. . . .



She unlocked the door, but to my surprise, she actually had a smile on her face when she strutted in. Zoey set her purse down reasonably, and walked to her room, shutting the door gently. I thought the whole thing odd, but good for her that she didn't need to be an angry bitch her entire life.



A few minutes later, she came out, in her sweatpants and tank top, and started cooking dinner. An hour passed and the smell only got better and better. My mouth watered as I watched her shoveling food onto her plate. I. . . I had to have some.


I slid my way off the couch, and walked humbly to the kitchen. I knew I was going to swallow my pride if I wanted any chance of getting some good. Zoey glanced over at me, and just as I was about to ask, she moved every last bit of food to her highest shelf, far out of my reach, before politely stepping around me and going back into her studio.



Damn. . .


The passive aggressive snub was almost worse than her being bitchy. With an empty stomach, I moped back to the couch and continued drawing. The worst part of it all was that the smell just lingered in the air, reminding me of what I wasn't eating.


A while later, Zoey opened the studio door and came out. She was holding her camera on the mini tri-pod and it appeared she was vlogging. . . . That was new. .



"So. . . Great news guys! That little jerk I was telling you about, the bosses little brown noser. . . Well he fucked up big time today and I got to watch my asshole boss fire him! It was so good! I thought both of them were gonna cry!" She said as she walked into the kitchen and set her dishes down.


"And that isn't even the best part! After he fired him, he came to me and had to give me the promotion I should have gotten from the start. It totally killed him to do it. . . I loved every minute of it!"


I had to say. . . I hadn't seen her this happy since I'd been here. I still hated her, but I was. . . . I guess. . . Happy?. . . For her?



She signed off the vlog in the kitchen, and was walking back to the studio, when she caught the transition from linoleum to carpet and stumbled. Without thinking, I burst out laughing. It was nothing personal, I would have laughed at anyone. . .



Zoey caught herself and just stared at me for a second, then continued on to the studio again.



Odd. . . .


I settled in, and began drawing a woman I saw on t.v., when I heard footsteps coming up from behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zoey. . . . .only she was back to panties only and was headed straight for me.