Three weeks on, I had settled into my role as Yuliya’s plaything. It was an easy step to make once I accepted that my actions had made me persona non grata back home. If I showed my face back home, the very best I could hope for would be house arrest and having my movements constantly controlled and monitored – exactly what I was getting with Yuliya. More likely I would be executed in whatever gruesome method they deemed to use for a tiny person.
I stood on Yuliya’s desk, looking up at her blue eyes scanning over the page while she read the morning’s reports. This was where I learned about Anna Williamson’s apparent murder in a failed mugging two weeks ago, though I doubted even the most indoctrinated people here believed that. She had been killed by a hit team after making a drop based on information I had given up under threat of being crushed. Initially I fell into a pit of guilt and self-loathing, but a few minutes clenched in Yuliya’s fist cured me of that.
Her thin lips tugged to the sides in a subtle smile while she read, and I knew she was getting more good news courtesy of me. Today she was sporting a new medal on her chest as well as an additional star on each shoulder, no doubt earned on the back of my interrogation. I was helping my “owner,” as it were, greatly increase her power and influence, and I was anxious to see what, if anything, she would do for me in return aside from a gentle pat on the head.
When she had finished, Yuliya took a long sip of coffee and turned her attention downward. “That was last person you gave us,” she started, “and, I think, end of your usefulness. You know what this means, yes?” I could guess, and the sly grin she had while leaning forward did nothing to reassure me. There was nowhere for me to run while her face loomed increasingly large until my sight was dominated by her snow shite skin. Her nose, itself a little taller than I was, bumped into my chest, and she stopped.
There was a long pause while she regarded me, making herself cross-eyed while she stared just past her nose. Finally, she boomed, “End of your probation.” A few simple words made my entire body quake, and before I could recover she had broken out in a broad smile, showcasing her straight, slightly dingy teeth. “You were scared?” I had been, and with her voice threatening to shake me apart with each syllable I was still a little worried. “You have no reason. You are mine, without question now.” While it was reassuring, I did not see how this changed anything for me. Until now, I was not even aware of any probationary period, let alone repercussions for violating it.
Yuliya raised her head, and in a split second the overbearing glare of her pale skin was replaced by her drab brown uniform. She remained hovering over me, regarding me curiously while placing a hand on the desk with one finger extended. Gently she brushed me with the tip from head to toe, pressing harder on the way up and driving me back. Her stroking became quicker and more vigorous, like she was trying to tickle me despite her finger being the size of my chest. Soft cooing came from her pursed lips while the assault continued, and I was powerless to stop her.
She smirked, then shot her finger forward. Yuliya easily overpowered me, toppling me backwards and pinning me underneath her finger. As I laid there, unable to move except to flail my arms, she seemed to become even more satisfied. Carefully she pressed down, compressing my chest and forcing the air out of my lungs before relenting. “You are fun toy,” she declared. “I am glad I did not have to rinse you off boot.”
The office’s door wooshed as it swung open, and Yuliya sat up straight in her chair. Her eyes flicked to the doorway and she took a moment to compose herself, swapping her grin of pure joy for a professional smile. “Good morning, Tatiana Yegorevna,” she greeted the newcomer. “Welcome back from your trip.” I took the opportunity to get back to my feet in preparation for the next onslaught.
“Yuliya Andreyevna, good day,” came the answer. I counted my lucky stars that I had kept fresh on my Russian as they spoke. There was something deeply familiar about the voice though, and I had heard very few voices at this new scale. Tremendous thuds shook the desk as she walked around it, and I turned to see a titanic woman’s body approaching. She was dressed identically to Yuliya except with fewer pieces of flair on her jacket, and had the same confident, almost arrogant demeanor. Before I could reach her face, however, it was obscured by her epaulets, just leaving an ear poking through straight black hair visible.
Tatiana turned and gave Yuliya a curt nod, then crossed her arms over her chest. “I trust you are pleased with my work?” she asked, leaning toward the desk. Her thigh bumped against the surface, sending a powerful tremor through the whole thing. Everything rattled violently and I collapsed backwards again, my knees unable to deal with the sudden shock. Paying the chaos she caused no mind, Tatiana squeezed her fingers on her elbow while focusing on Yuliya.
“Very pleased!” Yuliya answered enthusiastically. “I am writing you up for commendation, in fact. But of course, you did not do it all yourself. Please, say hello to our source.” She gestured toward me with an open palm, then leaned forward and set her elbows on the desk. The rumbling shook my teeth while she continued, “I believe you two are already acquainted?”
Curiously, Tatiana turned to follow Yuliya’s fingers and nearly overlooked my prone body. When she spotted my white shirt, however, her dark eyes widened and she crouched. I looked up at her enormous face dominating the area above me and noticed it lost little of its luster without the heavy makeup. As she looked me over, she was unable to suppress a small grin, and Yuliya pushed her way into the picture was well.
“I see you survived interrogation,” Tatiana said, and though I clearly heard her I scarcely understood a word. Under the watchful gazes of two gorgeous women my attention was spoken for, even though they regarded me like a lab specimen. Aside from their immense size and beauty, the pair could not have been more different. There were skin-deep differences, like Tanya’s dark features contrasted with Yuliya’s almost unbearably bright ones, and subtle differences in their attitudes. Yuliya looked at me with excitement and curiosity, like a neat discovery she couldn’t wait to explore, while Tanya was stolid and a little irritated. I got the feeling that, were Yuliya not there, she might try to smash me out of irritation.
“Yes, he did very well,” Yuliya answered for me. From her voice, it almost sounded like she was proud of me. “Naturally he resisted, but I crushed his resistance.” She gave me a sly wink and continued, “And now, instead of smashed corpse, he is fun toy!”
“Your toy,” Tanya repeated processing the new information. She squinted and gave me a close inspection. “I see he wears our uniform now.” While the statement hung in the air, I could not tell whether she approved.
“I thought it suitable,” Yuliya replied. “He may just be decoration on my desk, but he works here now, does he not? After interrogation it was first thing I gave him. I think he looks sharp in it, much better than ill-fitting clothes he came in.”
Tanya finally cracked a smile. “He is cute, though I am not sure if that is clothes or size.” She leaned a little closer, catching me with the edge of a blast from her nose before pulling back. “Nametag is nice touch. ‘Yuliya’s.’ What more does anyone need to know?”
“I thought so too,” Yuliya ehtnusiastically agreed. “It was expensive to get such precision work done, but with new promotion I can afford it.”
Yuliya turned her attention to Tanya, and I was glad to no longer be under the gaze two beautiful, gigantic women who did not necessarily have my best interests at heart. “Enough about my new toy. Since you did much of field work, you get to brief department chief. You can get notes from my assistant, Captain Yakovlev.”
Tanya stared at me for a moment longer before spinning to face Yuliya, her hair blowing a strong breeze over me. “Captain?” she repeated. “I am being promoted?”
“If chief likes your briefing,” Yuliya replied. “Now go, Tatiana Yegorevna, you have much to read.” In an instant the dark-featured face studying me was gone, standing atop a tower that had sprung up just a few feet from me. She turned, and my ears rang from an enormous pair of heels clicking together while she threw up a quick salute.
“Yes, Yuliya Andreyevna,” she barked, then spun on a heel. The room shook while she strode toward the door, then everything rattled when she pulled it shut behind her. It was back to just Yuliya and I in her office, and she was giving me an unsettlingly playful look.
“That should keep her busy for several hours,” Yuliya stated, leaning back in her chair, and it responded with a great squeal. Her legs continued up, well over the lip of the desk, and her feet their apex somewhere above me. Open-mouthed I watched the shiny leather pumps race down, cognizant that a small shift would lead to me getting flattened beneath them. They crashed onto the desk, the force making my heart skip a beat. She crossed her legs at the ankle and began slowly moving her free foot in the air, brushing the heel of her shoe against the desk.
She arched an eyebrow at me and I looked back, wondering what she wanted me to do. Yuliya had elected to wear a skirt today, the heavy brown fabric pressing it down against her thighs. An exceptionally tall and leggy woman even to people who weren’t shrunken, her legs seemed to stretch longer than I could comprehend. At this scale, on her ankles I could see the fine mesh netting of her flesh-toned stockings that ran up beneath the hem of her skirt. Her shoes themselves had an imposing presence, with one pointing to the sky like an obelisk while the other swayed gently.
“For what are you waiting?” she asked, and I simply stared at her blankly. “My lap is cold; I want you to warm it. You are strong and fit, yes?” Physical conditioning was a part of my daily routine, and climbing was incorporated into the physical exam, but that was a far cry from climbing up a giantess’s stockings. “Then for you, should not be problem.” So as her toy, I would be expected not just to be played with, but to perform on command. Still, I did not want to find out what would happen if I could not perform, or simply refused to.
Yuliya watched me with anticipation as I grabbed two handfuls of nylon clinging to her Achilles tendon. I hopped off the desk and used the elastic material to help propel myself upwards, digging the toes of my boots against her skin to secure my position. These boots were not intended for climbing, but they were able to loop in between the nylon stitching well enough. She let out a quiet giggle while I ascended and her body shuddered, nearly shaking me off her ankle. “Sorry, I should have told you earlier,” she said, and the power of each syllable ran down her body. “I am little bit ticklish.” So I would have that to contend with, too.
I continued upward, making sure that I only ever had one limb not hooked into nylon. Yuliya’s muscles tensed each time I moved, and by the time I reached the round, bony protrusion she could no longer contain herself. She suddenly kicked her feet forward and suppressed a thunderous laugh, shocking me with the sharp jolt of her sudden movement. Almost too late I pressed myself into her ankle, just keeping my hold. “Okay, I lied,” Yuliya began when her kicking spasm ceased, “I am very ticklish.”
The longer it took me to climb, I realized, the longer I would be in danger. Before her sensitivity returned I scrambled upward, surging toward the front of her leg. I reached the curve of her shin and adjusted my posture so I was running on all fours. When I crested the ledge I saw her biting her bottom lip and rushed to brace myself. Her ankle twitched and I dove forward, just managing to snag the stocking on her other leg before the kicking started again. She squirmed, trying to resist the urge to thrash at my every touch, and I was able to weather the storm until it passed.
“Very good, toy,” Yuliya congratulated, still choking down laughter. “Now keep going.” Of course, I was only a few inches into my journey and still had a long way to go. I progressed up her leg, keeping one hand on her other calf for stability. There was a significant downward slope to her legs, making my trip faster than expected. Before long at all I had crossed from the hard surface of her shin bone onto her soft calf, walking into a valley to maintain positive contact with both legs simultaneously.
As I walked further along her legs, the slope of her calf began to work against me. Not enough to offset the natural slope of her long legs propped up on the desk, but it was noticeable. Her eyes intently followed my slow journey up her legs, a mischievous gleam in them. At any moment I expected her to throw another obstacle my way, and with each moment it did not come my anticipation grew. If I continued any further on my path, I realized that I ran the risk of being squeezed between her legs in case of another fit, so I chose a single kneecap to crest and continue my trip.
Yuliya was fighting another fit, but once I was moving along hard bone again it subsided. Her skirt was slightly rumpled with the tilt, making the hem fall above the knee, but I was able to reach it with at brief jaunt over her thigh. I reached the coarse fabric and swung one leg onto it like I was cresting a short wall, then climbed up the rest of the way. Walking down the rest of Yuliya’s thigh would be simple, without even the risk of falling as an obstacle.
After a few more seconds of walking Yuliya must have decided I was done and decided to end the game. She swung her legs off the desk, slamming them onto the ground with a loud crash. I fell back onto her thigh and rolled into the valley her skirt made between her legs while a powerful quake ran through my body. When it had passed I looked up her enormous torso and saw her staring back down at me, looking pleased and, somehow, still a little playful.
“I will have to think of treat for you,” she proclaimed, reaching a hand toward me. I expected her to grab me, but Yuliya simply set her hand down beside me. With a single figure she began gently stroking me, as though she were petting me. The light touch from her index finger was warm and soothing, making me forget my troubles.
Yuliya returned to work, leaving me lying in her lap. She continued stroking me, and I allowed myself to stretch out and be taken in by it. After what I had just been through I was sure she had no immediate plans to hurt me, and for the moment I gave myself to this gorgeous, gigantic woman.