For the rest of the day I simply laid in Yuliya’s lap, sprawled out in the valley her skirt made between her thighs.  Frequently she brought a finger down and softly ran it over me, giving me a gentle stroke when she had a hand free from work.  I could have drifted off to sleep in her office if she did not occasionally change it up by giving me a sharp jab and smiling about it.  Never in my life did I imagine that being a Russian intelligence service’s prisoner in all but name would be so nice.

The whirring of her computer fans stopped, and I expected the usual routine of being seized in her palm for the trip to her apartment.  Instead, she simply stopped stroking my body and reached over me, pinching the back of my jacket between the tips of her thumb and forefinger.  She eased me to my feet and slowly dragged me back and forth over each thigh before bringing me back to the middle, holding me just high enough that my heels couldn’t set down.

Yuliya lifted me toward her face at a painfully slow rate, emphasizing her abject enormity compared to me.  Inch by inch I was pulled upward along her torso, dwarfed by the round medals on my periphery.  Round, gold buttons larger than me were a welcome relief on my skin from the coarse fabric, and she let me linger on those a little longer.  Toward her lapel the cliff began bulging outward, and she pulled me away from it to keep me from sliding between cloth.  When she brought me back onto the upward slope of her breasts it was against a broad strip of black silk, which felt magical as she slowly dragged me along it.  Before reaching the knot she lifted me so I dangled freely from her digits for the rest of the ascent.

The pale skin of her rounded chin was a fresh sight after so many dark colors and her thin, pink lips were drawn tight in a serious expression.  A stream of warm air hit me from her nostrils, and I watched them rapidly expand and contract as she inhaled another breath.  This was the first time I noticed the freckles lightly dotting her chin and cheeks; there was not much opportunity from her desk or while being flung about.  Her sparkling blue eyes came into view not long after, and the long trip up finally stopped with me between her eyes.

There was a long period where she simply stared at me, the only noise her steady breathing and occasional soft click of her eyelids.  I tried to pick an eye to focus on but found myself constantly switching, feeling even smaller the longer I looked into one.  As the silence endured and she continued her stare, doubt began to grow.  Maybe my situation had not changed as much as I thought, or it had even changed for the worse.

Yuliya raised her other hand and extended a finger.  Swiftly it came forward, striking my legs and sent me swinging like a pendulum.  As I swayed uncontrollably forward and back her eyes narrowed, indicating a small grin.  “You are toy,” she declared, “for cat.”  After giving me another quick bat that started me swinging back and forth she continued, “I am cat.”  Her eyes followed my movement, pupils only having to move slightly to stay on me.  “Be glad you are toy and not mouse, or cat would swallow you whole.”  Despite the threat, her accent made it sound like a deeply exciting prospect.

She watched me intently until the swaying stopped, leaving her finger poised beside me to start it again.  Rather than batting me, Yuliya exhaled sharply through her nose and wrinkles appeared at the corners of her eyes as she smiled.  “I do not know how Tatiana Yegorevna does it!” she said through laughter.  “All day she is very serious, stony face, staring people down.  Good for interrogations, not good for people.  Were you scared, toy?”  Her finger came to a rest against my side, comforting me with its warmth.

“I was, Yuliya Andreyevna,” I answered, my heart still racing from her act.

“I told you, just Yuliya!” she replied, smiling broadly.  “Or Yula.  Diminutive toy like you can use diminutive.”  She paused before going back to her original point.  “Hm.  It is easy to scare someone much smaller than you.  That is why we give her new weapon, and let me handle questions.  Maybe I move her to interrogations soon.”  Amid her pontificating I noticed a milestone – she referred to me as “someone.”  It was the first time I recalled her acknowledging I was a person, even in the most general sense.

Her smile faded, though she kept the same gaze on me.  “I must tell you something.”  As usual I would listen, and this sounded particularly interesting.  “Sometimes, I… I wish you were not toy.”

“What, like a pet?” I asked.   What was she even getting at?  She was the one who kept saying I was her toy; she could stop that at any time.  I assumed she could grow me if she wanted, too, though that presupposed they had bothered to develop a way to reverse the shrinking.

“No, not pet,” Yuliya replied.  “Something…” she bit her lip and trailed off.  “Something else, let us say, and leave it at that.  We can come back later.”  I was in no position to press her, so I let it lie.  I got the distinct feeling it was something juicy though, and possibly embarrassing.

“Come, I do am already in office too late,” she said.  If I was not already pressed into her hand, I was unsure how she would get me home with her.  In answer to my silent question she raised me past the bright wall of her forehead and set me down on her scalp, then let go.  Without her supporting me for the first time in what felt like an hour I collapsed onto my knees and fell forward, sliding into her long strands of blond hair.  “Try to stay hidden.  There are not many who can see top of my head, but they exist.”  I did the best I could, digging my way under her hair until, as far as I could tell, it completely covered me.  It was loose and had some slack, which made my job easier, though light still made its way down to me.

I grabbed onto her roots when she stood, keeping myself from sliding out of my hiding spot.  It probably gave her a twinge of pain, but was much less uncomfortable than if I slipped out at an inopportune time.  Her head slightly bobbed with each step of her long, shapely legs, moving me with it, and I maintained my grip.  She dipped her head to fit through the doorway without knocking me off, and I dug my toes into her scalp to keep from flopping onto her forehead.  It happened again, then each bob of her head was accompanied by a click from her heels on tile.

Long fluorescent lights passed overhead, a new one every few steps.  I tried to count them, but with the constant jostling it was difficult to keep focused and I kept starting at one again.  Before long I gave up and focused on my immediate environment.  Yuliya’s hair was soft and had a slight floral fragrance to it that I could not escape from.  Even if I were in complete isolation, this scent would be stuck in my nostrils for days.

One more big dip and she was outside, the fluorescent light fixtures replaced by bright overhead streetlamps.  Shocks ran up her body and I struggled to maintain her grip while she descended a flight of stairs, coinciding with a large portion of the sky being blocked out.  The blackness spread until it encompassed the entire sky and the smell of Yuliya’s hair grew in intensity.  It took a moment, but I realized she had simply put on a hat.

Now that I was covered, I figured I could relax my grip.  Yuliya’s gait was so steady I hardly noticed it, and there was no risk of me falling from atop her head with the new barrier.  Without having to worry about plummeting to the ground, I found the experience more akin to a luxurious train ride.  The gentle swaying felt amazing, and the smell was just weak enough to not be overpowering.

The sudden shock of someone bumping into her changed my mind quickly, but I was too slow to react.  I was thrown out from my light covering of hair and tumbled back over her scalp until running into her cap.  Fortunately, I was too light to press through it, but I came to a rest at the very lowest point.  Her head sloped too sharply for me to quickly correct myself, and my limbs had gotten tangled up in strands of hair.

There was no time to adjust, anyway.  As soon as I came to a stop, she pulled the cap off and I tumbled from the top of her head.  My limbs immediately broke the strand holding them and I dropped, rolling over the black band binding her hair.  Desperately I scrambled to get a firm grip, but I was falling too fast inside her ponytail to grab anything.  All I could do was adjust my trajectory a little by tugging on a strand.

Luckily, I changed my course just enough to avoid getting splattered on the ground.  My legs hit the collar of Yuliya’s shirt and momentum kept me moving forward, rotating my body over it.  I slid head-first down the back of her shirt, scrambling to grab onto anything, but her crisp collar offered no hand holds, nor did her smooth skin or the few wisps of hair.  With an involuntary scream I plunged down her back, still trying to find something to grab onto.  Yuliya’s fingers grabbed at the back of her neck for me, but I was long gone by the time they arrived.

Her toned muscles twitched as I passed by them, and when I landed Yuliya’s torso jerked.  The shirt tail was tucked into her skirt, forming a billowing net that arrested my fall and sent me rolling against the small of her back.  I tried to find some way to get comfortable, but my ride did not approve of my squirming.  Yuliya’s gait had slowed significantly, and seemingly at random her torso jerked back.  Unwilling to risk getting squashed in a ticklish fit, I dug my legs into her skirt and did my best to keep still.

My world suddenly dropped, and though I could not see I guessed Yuliya had sat down.  She arched her back over me to keep from smushing me against the back of her seat and sat as still as possible.  We must have had the same thought: if I got dislodged, she simply might not be able to control what happens next.  Neither of us was too comfortable, and I definitely did not feel safe, but for now, at least, I was alive.

It was difficult to tell how long I was trapped halfway inside Yuliya’s skirt, but it felt like about half an hour.  I braced my arms over the top of the skirt to keep myself from sliding down further and ending up on the ground when she stood.  Every so often she swayed a little, accompanied by a loud screech from outside.  This must have been the subway ride home, and if I were lucky I would soon be out of danger.

Yuliya stood, and it felt like my insides stayed behind on the seat.  Her hips swayed with every step, and I began to feel the strain in my shoulders.  I felt as though I would fall at any second and decided to take a risk.  With a surge of energy I unhooked one arm from her skirt and rotated, wrapping it over the ledge when I was facing away from her.

The sudden movement made my arms burn, but I managed to cling to her clothes.  She felt my sudden movement and froze, and I leaned my weight forward.  When Yuliya resumed walking after a moment, I was no longer worried about her swinging hips making me fall through her skirt.  Riding with a face full of linen was the worst way I had traveled that day, but it was better than being dumped onto the sidewalk.

At last I heard jingling keys, and I knew this chapter of my new life’s ordeal was almost over.  Yuliya pushed the door open, then closed it with a loud bang.  Her shirt billowed outward when she removed her jacket, followed by the clatter of medals when she set it on a chair.  Two more slow, ponderous steps made her hips sway wildly, then she came to a full stop.  Apparently, she thought I was safe enough to have fun with again.

Yuliya reached around her waist and probed for me with her fingers before hooking them into her skirt.  She pinched one side of the fabric and held it firm, then eased the zipper down with her other hand.  The pressure on my chest decreased, but before I could enjoy it Yuliya dropped the skirt.  Suddenly I was given too much freedom and fell briefly until hitting her butt, then rolled out of control down the slope.  I quickly ran out of butt and free fell the rest of the way down her long legs, where I landed in a pile of cloth.

The impact left me dazed and gazing up her slender, shapely legs.  Yuliya took a moment to untie her hair, letting it drape over her shoulders like a golden waterfall with a single, small wave in it.  She took a step back, her shoes pounding the floor hard enough I felt the impacts even through my cushioning.  From her tremendous height she peered down at her discarded skirt looking for me, and as I tried to climb out of a wrinkle it hit me that, while being at the feet of a gorgeous, shapely woman wearing only thigh-high stockings, high heels, and a button-up shirt would have ticked every box for me before, her thinking of me as a plaything canceled it all out.

Gingerly she probed the skirt with the toe of a shoe, trying to flatten imperfections.  Yuliya’s shoe pressed down beside me, grinding the fabric beneath her sole, before picking back up.  It soared over my head and I realized that, if it could flatten cloth, it could do the same to me.  I scrambled to get out, but fortunately it passed right over me and set down on the other side.  She gave it a series of firm pats, shaking the whole structure, and I managed to claw my way to the surface.

Yuliya spotted me almost immediately and stopped probing the skirt, one leg extended.  She leaned back and gazed down at me, then crossed her arms under her chest, fully accentuating her form.  “There you are!” she exclaimed, then arched an eyebrow.  “This is similar to how we first met, yes?  Though I think you will agree we are in happier circumstances now.”  Her lips spread into a smile, and for once she almost looked content.  I gazed up at her and found that I was physically incapable of speech.  Even though I wanted to reply, I could not find words.  It was simply too much for me to take in.

Yuliya squatted over me, still grinning while she rotated a hand in the air over me.  “Unfortunately, it is late and I do not have time to play with toy,” she said.  Unfortunately for me the tail of her shirt was longer than a miniskirt, but there was much more of her to look at.  “I think it is time we go to bed.”  She reached down and pinched me between thumb and forefinger, plucking me out of the skirt when she stood back up.

Her feet thudded on the ground when she stepped out of her heels, then a loud scraping arose when she kicked them to the side.  Yuliya kept me at waist level while she walked to her room, staring down at me the whole time, and I up at her.  It felt like we teleported to stand beside her bed, and suddenly she was holding me over a shoe box.  “Today you met the shoes that came in this,” she said.  “Nice, yes?”  My main thought about them was that they were big, but I managed a nod and that seemed to please her.

Slowly she squatted again and set me down in the box before rocketing back up to her full height.  She peered down said, “If you need anything, yell.  I must get ready.”  Yuliya walked away, her feet steadily thumping on the floor.  Her footfalls made my meager furnishings shake, reinforcing how sparse it was.  All she had provided for me was a washcloth that was too large to be used as a blanket, an old earbud that was too small to be used as a bed, and a shiny coin that made a poor mirror.  Typically, I did not use any of this and slept on bare cardboard.

 Footfalls growing in intensity signaled Yuliya’s return twenty minutes later, and she dominated my view again presently.  She was wearing a silk, pale blue nightie and had brushed her hair so it was thick and full.  “Night-night, my little toy,” she said with a sing-song voice.  It was difficult to sound sweet with a deep, rumbling voice like hers, but she was trying.  “I will play with you more tomorrow, I promise.”  She stepped over my box, giving me a brief view of the full length of her legs, and threw back the covers.

Her mattress creaked as she climbed onto it, and it continued groaning while she got comfortable.  Yuliya reached onto her nightstand and picked one of several brick-sized books she kept there, then propped it open in her lap.  The first few nights I had tried to sleep while she read, but that had proven impossible.  The lamp was bright as a sun for me, and her page turning was unbelievably loud.  I had taken to simply sitting on the earbud’s cushioning and watching her, waiting for when it was time to really sleep.

After only a few minutes the book slammed shut and Yuliya replaced it on the nightstand.  “I can not focus tonight,” she declared.  “My mind is… somewhere else.”  The mattress squealed when she rolled over and reached for the lamp’s switch, but before she flicked it, she paused.  Yuliya looked down and saw me gazing up at her from inside her shoe box.  She stayed like that for a bit before pulling her hand back and leaning on her forearm.

“You know,” she began, “you do not have to sleep in shoe box if you do not want.”

“It seems safer down here than by your feet,” I shouted back.

“Not by feet,” Yuliya replied.  “On pillow, by head.”  I was surprised by the offer, and she elaborated.  “My bed is for two, and I am only one.  One and half, by length.” She smirked, and I found my voice.

“Yeah, I’ll sleep on your pillow,” I agreed.  There was probably a cooler way to have said that, but in such a high-pressure situation like this there was scarcely time to think.

Yuliya simply smiled and lowered a hand into the box, pinching me between her thumb and forefinger as usual.  She plucked me up from the interior and it felt like my stomach remained in the box, though it caught up with me by the time she set me down on the pillow.  I was directly beneath the gaze of her tired blue eyes, though I could tell she still had a small grin.  With her other hand she draped some hair over me and started giggling uncontrollably.

When she finally got control of herself, she was able to speak again.  “Do you remember what I said earlier?”

“You said lots of things earlier,” I answered.  “You’ll have to be more specific, Yula.”

That seemed to make her happy, and she responded, “Please, Yulenka.  About how I wish you were not… toy.  Or pet.  But other thing.”

“I recall something along those lines.”  I had only been wondering what the hell she meant by that since she said it.

“I want you to be… partner.  Does that work?”  We stared at each other for a moment before she explained, “You are cute, smart man.  I am pretty, smart woman.  We go together.  Is partner not correct term?”

The shock of her offering this was even more powerful than her voice was at this distance.  “No, it’s right,” I began, “but you’re… much larger than me.  And wouldn’t your superiors look down on you for dating a foreigner?”

“Yes, they would,” Yuliya confirmed.  “But you are so very small, I could hide you anywhere!  My hair, my pockets,” her voice lowered, “my stockings or panties.”  She leaned in close until one of her enormous eyes nearly touched me and whispered, “And it would be very exciting, that is half of fun.”

I had to admit that she was making a very strong case.  “Maybe too exciting,” I pushed back.  “You’ve made it very clear that you can smash me if I do something you don’t like, would I really have any choice or equality in this?”

She blinked, and her eyelashes tickled me for an instant.  “You do not have to do anything you do not want to,” Yuliya said, “but I have seen how you look at me.  I know you want to.”  Her nose nudged me when she tilted her head back confidently.  “I would not have asked otherwise.  I know I am desirable woman, and to me you are desirable man.  And you know how many ‘equal’ partners?  One always makes all decisions, has all power.  We will just be more honest.”

It was a tortured point, but valid.  More importantly, she was right in that I wanted her badly, even though I suspected she had helped engineer it.  “I’ll give it a shot, Yulenka,” I said at last.  “If it doesn’t work out, you can just smash me.”

She smiled and replied, “I would not.”  Yuliya leaned forward and planted a gigantic kiss on me, her lips covering my whole body, and pulled back with a quiet smack.  “But now we sleep.  Tomorrow is Friday, and I look forward to much playing with you.”  Her arm reached over me, and with a click the room was overcome by darkness.  I curled up, using her hair as a blanket to keep inside a new inner warmth.  Soon I drifted off, hopefully to dreams of her playing with me, and she followed soon after.