- Text Size +
Story Notes:

Reposted for posterity.

 

 

Prologue

 

 

 

Monsters were after her. Three of these monsters were over twenty feet in length and they worked in perfect cooperation. Wherever they went, wherever they explored hungrily they had in tow with them a smaller monster. Perhaps this one was not fully mature? She was a mere fifteen feet in length and only four feet in diameter, slender and timid compared to her three sisters who were easily five feet around. The smaller sister often helped from behind, often supported the other three's attack.

 

 

 

Of the four monsters there was a definite leader, much more graceful than her other three sisters. She was often the first to confront the girl, often leading the charge against her and spurring the chase of the other three. The girl knew this one intimately. This was the explorer, the accuser, always the first to attempt a task, and always the companion, or the minion of the huge enforcer. This one would circle her, mocking the girl's weakness and slowness. This one liked to pounce on her, liked to let her feel it's immense weight, liked to toy with her in terrible ways, sometimes in savage ways.

 

 

 

But there were not just four monsters. There was another one, much more terrible than the other four. It was marginally longer than the runt of the pack, but it was frighteningly stout and muscular, at least seven feet in diameter. This was the enforcer, cooperating perfectly with the other four. This one made the girl feel even more tiny and insignificant than the other ones ever could. Of the five monsters this one was by far the most intimidating. If the girl had truly angered the mistress of these five monsters, the stout enforcer would come alone and it would dominate her entirely, almost crushing her beneath it's unstoppable bulk. The leader of the four would often work in tandem with the mighty enforcer, they complemented each other, and their complex dance of cooperation was perfect. The leader was grace and her huge companion was the muscle of the pack of five. These two monsters working together were more effective than the other three combined, easily.

 

 

 

The sad girl knew well enough to steer clear of this tag-team duo of grace and might. But, she could never get away. She was always confined to the ground, whatever that happened to be whenever the chase was afoot. She couldn't fly, couldn't glide gracefully like the pack of monsters could. It was never a fair hunt.

 

 

 

They were the strangest of monsters. Proud, beautiful beasts who were groomed to perfection. Despite their unstoppable nature they were intentionally kept soft. Not in a way that the sad, outnumbered girl could ever really appreciate, not to her. But for their kind, these monstrosities were quite silky, well-groomed, elegant even. Monstrosities fit for a mythic beauty pageant among their own awful kind. Show monsters, primped and coddled, arrogantly spoiled.

 

 

 

They could fly. They were also completely blind. They were commanded by what always resided in the sky overhead, obeying the silent signals which were lightning quick and efficient. Their route was always overseen, their course always instantly plotted. The sad, slow girl had no chance at all, save to hide from what commanded the colossal, blind monsters from on high.

 

 

 

The girl didn't like to look upon the monsters. She always wanted to turn away when they were near. She didn't like to be reminded of what had happened, of that day when she became their cherished toy, their favorite prey. The monsters reminded her of absolute might, and of her own incredible frailty. Beyond all of that, the monsters were just wrong. They shouldn't exist, not like this, not so frightening. They should be like kittens, like beautiful candy, or like flowers. They should be lovely, perhaps trivial things that were beautiful for beauty's sake. They should be wholesome, perhaps innocent, maybe even unremarkable. Not monsters. Not a pack of fearless hunters. Not invincible oppressors.

 

 

 

They had her trapped and then they pounced. The girl had the wind driven from her lungs and she fell to the ground as they gloated around her triumphantly. They pressed against her harshly and immobilized her as she wept. The other pack of five, the sister pack of this one caught her scent and they arrived, twins which glided down out of the sky to circle her almost hungrily. They brought with them things to shame her, things to mock her defeat.

 

 

 

The girl sobbed as the twin packs of monsters got to work, readying her for the stripping of what was left of her well-hidden dignity. The monsters took her remaining dignity from her slowly, as they scared her deeply. Their blind, beautifully armored heads kept her still as the mockeries were attached to her back with slow precision, guided by the terrible force in the sky. The girl was released from their bruising, brutal ministrations. They mocked her silently as she lay sobbing, the delicate satires crinkled loudly as she rolled over to her back.

 

 

 

The girl wanted nothing more than to go home, where she belonged, where such monsters were sane and had a laughably mundane context. But the girl couldn't find the impossible route, she didn't know the way to the magical mirror, that merciful portal, or the arcane elixir that could restore her and drive off such monsters and their mistress. She was utterly lost. Vanquished completely and for all time. Peace with the terrible thing in the sky which guided and kept the monsters in check, on course and beautiful could not be had. After all, the poor girl had nothing at all to offer in a bargain. Demons were shrewd in every detail. That was why they were demons, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The beautiful, naked girl was on her hands and knees. Her face was incredibly sad, her large dark eyes had a terrible haunted look to them. Her dark hair was messy and she shifted, wincing as the flower's pollen stuck to her knees and shins. The pair of gossamer dragonfly wings shifted and drooped as she tried to steady herself on the subtly wobbling flower head.

 

 

 

The sound file, a stylized click of a camera sounded again and again, causing the girl to tighten each time the overly loud and unpredictable burst of sound would erupt.

 

 

 

"Linda, please!" She whined, she knew she couldn't be heard so she reached out a tiny arm towards her photographer.

 

 

 

"Please, Linda, this is scaring me!"

 

 

 

The response was also a feminine voice, but it was so loud, so powerful and deeply driven that the naked mock-fairy could feel the sound waves tickle and buzz in her skin. The word's impacts reminded her that her tiny eyes were made of delicate jelly, they itched in her sockets as her smiling photographer cooed thunderously.

 

 

 

"Oh, Jesse! You look so pretty! You are such a pretty girl, aren't you? Come on, just a few more! Come on! Look sexy for me!”

 

 

 

The little troubled face glowered angrily and she was once again assaulted by the obnoxiously blaring cartoony shutter noise.

 

 

 

"That's wonderful! Smile for me, pretty please? Aww. Are you tired? I guess we could be done here, if you want. Here, let me pick you up. I'll let you rest in your toy box."

 

 

 

An alarmingly massive female hand hovered beyond the flower head. The colossal index finger and thumb readied to pinch Jesse up. They were beautiful fingers, the long natural nails were painted a light lavender. The skin and cuticles were flawless, well nourished, well-maintained. Tiny Jesse sitting in this hand would make a nicely artistic cover for a magazine or a catalog aimed at the fashionable fifteen to thirty-five year old female demographic. A piece of whimsical photo manipulation art to prepare the clientele for the upscale, new-age-y hygiene products and clothes within. Or perhaps the cover for a modestly raunchy fantasy novel drop-kicked into pop culture's cowardly fickle and watery eye.

 

 

 

Terror filled Jesse's large, beautiful eyes suddenly. She knew what Linda was alluding to with the term "toy box". The bile rose in her throat and she shuddered with nausea. For Jesse that pet name was a terrible place. Her helpless body delicately tucked up underneath one of the beautiful demon's long, healthy toenails which adorned her plump, dense big toes. A bit of abandoned human lint, a shred of cotton tamped into a drafty crack.

 

 

 

For Jesse's boyfriend, Steve, the term "toy box" meant something entirely different and much worse. Jesse was never covered in a foul smelling ooze when the demoness would retrieve her like Steve always was. Jesse was only fraught by sticky, slightly smelly horror afterward. Steve would almost die… inside... of the titaness each time. Steve seemed to permanently lose something after each play session with Linda. Linda was a morbidly unique kind of monster. She would sometimes torment poor broken Jesse by using her to "clean" those two terrible places, even though Jesse knew that Linda maintained all of herself scrupulously clean. Jesse had watched Linda prepare for her day many times. Jesse had never seen someone use a nail brush and soap to scrub beneath toenails like that. She knew that Linda did it exclusively for her playthings. The scary blonde woman had a strange fixation with demeaning them under there. The titaness had many unusual predilections, it seemed that all of them required tiny living dolls.

 

 

 

Jesse adamantly shook her head no as the fingertips surrounded her. The beautiful, soft skyscraper smiled and shook her head with a pout as her eyes grew large and sad.

 

 

 

"No? You're not done yet? Well, let me get the camera ready again and then you give me some big smiles, okay? We are almost done! You are really going to like these, Jesse! Those wings look perfect on you!"

 

 

 

Jesse watched as the chocolate colored DSLR camera floated up level with her. She twisted her tiny hips as she knelt there and managed to smile warmly while the stupid electronic belches hurt her tiny ears.

 

 

 

"Oh, you are just so beautiful, Jesse. Really. It's so hard for me to see that tiny face most of the time. I forget sometimes that you are so much more than just a tiny, squirming pink thing. I'm really going to have to buy something to help me see you better. Maybe a little electronic field microscope, or another camera! Something I can hook up to one of the televisions? I'll have to go hunting online. But, you look so sad. Jesse! You have fairy wings! Come on! Give me another big smile!"

 

 

 

Something touched her. Before she could react something was crawling onto Jesse's leg. She twisted violently and caught a glimpse for a moment. White and glistening, pulpy and segmented. Jesse shrieked, her tiny cries were immediately grating, piercing falsettos. The flower head began to sway under her violent motions, almost tossing her to the kitchen table. Jesse dug her tiny fingers into the hairy hemisphere as she hung on against the dangerous motion and kicked her legs.

 

 

 

"Shit! Jesse!"

 

 

 

Linda dropped the camera noisily onto the kitchen table and the fingers of her left hand parted as they swept underneath the flower head, capturing the stem against the webbing of her middle finger and ring finger.

 

 

 

"Hold on! Shit!"

 

 

 

It was on her back now. She was crawling frantically across the flower's sticky center and screaming. Linda's enormous fingertips fumbled and Jesse's slender torso was momentarily caught in between the curved, lavender pinch of the huge nails.

 

 

 

"Jesse, please! Hold still, goddammit!"

 

 

 

The thick thumb of the hand which held the flower head folded tightly down over Jesse. Linda's face swept in and the broad tip of the long thumbnail gently pinned one of Jesse's flailing arms and her tiny head harshly into the flower's hairy sex. Jesse screamed despondently, gossamer strands of drool spilled from her agonized mouth.

 

 

 

"Just hold still, Jesse! I can get it if you just…"

 

 

 

Broad monstrous nail tips bruised her as they pinched at it. Jesse cried out in pain. Then Linda had it as the creature tried to take shelter in Jesse's hair. Jesse's head was pried back as the colossal fingertips pulled away. Jesse screamed as some of her hair was pulled out by the pinched nails. A large drop of golden nectar squeezed out of the end of the tiny ugly creature as Linda lifted it away. The enormous thumb arched upwards and Jesse scrambled, tumbling off of the flower head and into Linda's enormous palm.

 

 

 

Linda held it to her eyes.

 

 

 

"I think it's an aphid! Yup. That's an aphid."

 

 

 

The flower head slid away from between the fingers and Linda thundered over to the kitchen sink. She flicked the tiny bug into the drain and rinsed off her fingers before drying them on a hanging towel. Linda brought the tiny girl up to her eyes. Jesse was curled in a ball and hysterically crying.

 

 

 

"Shhh. It's okay now. I got it."

 

 

 

Linda touched her with a fingertip and Jesse cried out before lunging away from her across the palm.

 

 

 

"Shhh. I've got you, Jesse. You're safe!"

 

 

 

Linda gently gathered her in between her fingers and raised the tiny girl closer to her. Jesse's little face was red and wet. She was clinging tightly to the pad of Linda's thumb tip. Linda softly pet her with a finger and the little thing pushed up against the underside of her thumbnail, trying to not be touched.

 

 

 

Linda gently pried loose the tiny wings from the sobbing form. She smiled sadly at her and the two women stared at each other for a time. Finally, Jesse raised her head and shouted something at the blue eyes. She repeated it, growing shrill, her voice cracking. Linda brought her to her ear and listened as she raggedly repeated it.

 

 

 

"I don't want to be tiny! I don't want to be tiny! Please, I'm sorry for what I did! I-"

 

 

 

"But you are tiny, Jesse. It can't be reversed. You should be thankful that I managed to get that off of you. You should be thankful that it wasn't a spider!"

 

 

 

Linda softly put her into an enormous hand.

 

 

 

"I know this is difficult for you, Jesse. But, look on the bright side, I'm very careful with my toys, aren't I? We get to have so much fun together and you never get hurt, you never really suffer. Because I'm careful. Because I love you."

 

 

 

Jesse flopped over and curled up. Linda watched her for quite a while, watched the little back tremble as she sobbed. For a while Linda felt her sadness along with her. It was really a horrible fate, who in their right mind would want to be an inch tall? But that caused Linda to smile. There was someone who had wanted it, in this very house. But moreover, he had asked to be tiny, he had begged over and over again to be reduced to a trembling, powerless trinket. But the best part, the best part was that he had wanted Linda to have him. He had wanted so badly to be a toy for his own mother.

 

 

 

Linda softly touched Jesse.

 

 

 

"You have had quite a scare today, Jesse. Maybe I shouldn't put you in your toy box. You were a good girl, after all. I think you deserve some time to yourself, don't you? Oh my, I almost forgot about that nasty pollen. Let's go get that taken care of and then you can give me a kiss. Don't you want to thank you rescuer? You should be polite, Jesse. You should always be polite. Ladylike. Fairies aren't mean and ungrateful, are they? They're gracious and cheerful, even if they're tiny. You are just too beautiful to act like a little savage."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2:Tender Words, Between Friends by V11

 

It wasn't the easiest way to communicate, laying on your chest, screaming at the floor. Each of them was trapped in a tall drinking glass that had been upended. Each of them had a tiny bit of tissue to use as a bed, a bottle cap with water and another for excretion. Linda had left them here on the end table next to her bed. She had made promises that soon their accommodations would not be so haphazard. Mike was initially not in the mood for talking, but he knew Steve and he knew that Steve needed to talk, talking consoled him. It didn't matter whether or not he was arguing or having a laugh. Steve, when pushed, wanted to talk.

 

 

 

"Someone is going to come around. I'm telling you! Maybe she has already talked to the police? But, shit, all three of us are missing… and you and I, we were roommates bro. We worked together!"

 

 

 

"It doesn't matter."

 

 

 

"Why doesn't it matter?"

 

 

 

"She's a lawyer."

 

 

 

Steve thought about that for a second and then threw a little tantrum, slapping first the floor with his palms and then punching his own thigh repeatedly. He knew all about Mike's gigantic mother's ability to construct elaborate stories, out of thin air if need be, and she could stick to them, she could warp you like that if she kept at it long enough.

 

 

 

"Can I ask you something?"

 

 

 

"I really wish you wouldn't."

 

 

 

"You know, I think about everything, and I really want to know how she shrank us. I mean, that shit ain't possible, you know? But… that isn't what's really eating me."

 

 

 

They stared at each other through the distorted and streaked glass. Steve had a weird look on his face, his eyes were big and he would not look away.

 

 

 

"Do you want to know what's eating me?"

 

 

 

"No."

 

 

 

"Does she do stuff to you?"

 

 

 

Mike turned away.

 

 

 

"Bro? Is she nuts? I mean, she does things to you, right? And you…"

 

 

 

Mike want to go to sleep again on the scratchy tissue that felt like fiberglass. But he had already slept a lot.

 

 

 

"She does stuff to me to, you know. Really, really bad shit."

 

 

 

Steve covered his eyes with his arm and laid there. Mike went and took another drink from the enormous plastic bottle cap. Steve was sobbing. Mike came and sat down again.

 

 

 

"Why is she like that? Do you know why?" Steve rolled his head towards Mike and stared at him, "So… Did she, you know, before she shrank you, you know."

 

 

 

Mike shook his head no.

 

 

 

"She is going to kill me one of these days, Mike. I know it. We got to do something, bro! We have to escape!"

 

 

 

Mike was quiet.

 

 

 

"How are we going to escape? How are we going to pull this off? Huh? I mean… shit. I'm just so fucked! We are fucked, completely fucked."

 

 

 

They were both quiet for a long time, locked in their own heads, locked in their own hells.

 

 

 

"Sometimes. Sometimes the stuff she does to me is not so bad. But it doesn't last long. Sometimes I like it for a little bit."

 

 

 

Steve stared at him again, his eyes bulging.

 

 

 

"You know what's funny, bro? I've watched you. She keeps us separated so much. But, I've watched you, like a hawk. You get a stiffy, you know? I don't even think you even know sometimes. Who gets a stiffy when they're around their own mother? Huh? Is that why she shrank you? Huh?"

 

 

 

Mike really wanted to go and curl up on the tissue.

 

 

 

"Your mom's hot, you know. I mean, like raging, rabid fucking perfectly fine hot. But, bro, you've got two strikes against you and you can't deny 'em."

 

 

 

Steve counted them on his fingers as his eyes became manic and his face stiff.

 

 

 

"One, she is your goddamned mother! And, of course, we can't fucking ignore number two, can we? She is absolutely, epically fucking humongous! And you sport wood whenever she comes crashing over to sweep you up for some fucking sick game!"

 

 

 

Mike was beet red and he was trying not to shake.

 

 

 

"Well! I know why you're fucking here, don't I? What I don't know is... WHY AM I FUCKING HERE AT ALL!"

 

 

 

Steve started screaming as he shuddered in rage. He jumped up and punched the glass several times. Then he ran over and tried to shred his tissue bedding, red-faced and screaming obscenities. Steve raged for several minutes. Mike quietly got up and walked over to his own laughable bed. He turned away from Steve and curled up, shutting his eyes.

 

 

 

"You fucking pervert! You are a fucking pervert! No! I knew exactly what you are! You are the ultimate Mama's boy! That's funny! She's... and you're... Hey, goddammit! Hey, Mike, goddammit! That's funny shit, bro! You don't get it, do you? Hey!"

 

 

 

Mike tried to think about the bedding beneath him, about how he had found a comfortable spot and it almost felt like a proper place to sleep for once.

 

 

 

"I'm going to kill you, you know, just so you know. I'm going to get out of here and I'm going to come over there and I'm gonna kill you, Mike."

 

 

 

It was almost like being in his own bed, far away from here, in an apartment, in the city. He had a car and a girlfriend. He was doing okay.

 

 

 

"I hope she squishes you. I hope she squishes you, Mike. I hope she's playing with you with those goddamn scary toes of hers and I hope she squishes you. Right underneath one of those gigantic fucking…"

 

 

 

Steve's eyes suddenly grew huge.

 

 

 

"What was that!? Did you feel that!!?"

 

 

 

Half a breath later Mike felt it as well, a subtle wave of energy which pulsed through the dense wood of the end table beneath them. Then another invisible kinetic surge raced past them. One more, stronger. Then the pulses revealed themselves as quakes steadily growing in strength as they overlapped in time.

 

 

 

It was all too familiar by now. It was Mike's mother's footsteps.

 

 

 

"Is she coming this way? I think... yeah, I think she's coming in here. Jesus. Here we go, pervert, any moment now... and… Fuck! I think I'll never get used to that," Steve hissed glumly. The lanky young man shuddered, a palsied recoil of his entire body as a mock-skyscraper, a feminine silhouette filled the bright rectangle of the bedroom's door.

 

 

 

Linda padded quietly into the room, her right hand held in a careful fist and pressed against her flat tummy. The blonde's left hand swung in time with her casual, thunderous steps and held her expensive camera. As she placed the camera onto her bed Mike felt the slight influx of thick air between the loose intersection of dimpled melamine and his prison's thick glass wall.

 

 

 

The towering blonde beauty turned towards them and took in their tiny forms with a pleased and gentle smirk. She made her way to where they sat, her distant blue eyes locked onto them, amused. Mike's prick grew warm and heavy as his mother's tremendous form swelled almost grotesquely to overwhelm his pitifully limited vision. Linda's shapely bare legs distorted into thick, tanned pillars right before they became vertical seas of violently pistoning flesh.

 

 

 

Steve gibbered nonsensically to himself as he scrambled to the farthest point away from the thundering colossus. Mike frowned as he witnessed Steve maniacally perform a repetitive and halting series of actions. The mahogany-skinned twenty-three-year-old would cover his head with his hands, his mouth fighting back against seemingly a gagging reflex before suddenly casting aside his useless shield. He would glance upwards at the source of the approaching thunder, his eyes squinting almost in pain and quickly cover his head again. Steve was stuck in this fenzied, helpless circuit as the displaced air from the approaching form seethed beneath the upended transparent towers.

 

 

 

Mike's mother had stopped in front of the end table, transformed almost completely into the endless skin of her thighs. Far above them floated an astronomical structure composed of blue cloth. It was just Linda's shorts, the tight material forming a vast, thick arch crowning the rampant thighs. The subtle bulge of the colossi's vast hidden sex was awe-inspiring and strangely ominous. Such tiny young men could be forgiven for mistaking the gargantuan intersection of skin-tight cloth as gloating down upon them arrogantly, but this was just the midway point of this impossible feminine form. The two tiny men were covered in shadow as a vast hand took it's place just above the overturned glasses. Mike clamped his hands over his ears as the fingers mischievously wiggled, the gently striking nails above him creating a ringing that made him nauseous. Steve shrieked and jumped to his feet, diving into a hollow beneath his tissue bed.

 

 

 

The panic inducing fingers took hold of the top of Steve's prison. A moment later it had been lifted free and created it's own violent quake through the tabletop as it was sat down. A thumb and index finger daintily took away the folds of tissue. There was a yelp as Steve tumbled free of the receding paper. He scrambled on all fours and pressed his face against the wall of Mike's prison. Steve managed to wrench his right arm underneath the thick glass rim and he clawed in the air at Mike.

 

 

 

"Come here, motherfucker! I'm gonna drag your sick ass out of there! Just come a little closer you fucking-"

 

 

 

The entire tower of glass shuddered as the unreal fingertips grazed down the bottom quarter of it. Steve grew pale as convex pools of hardened lavender polish drew in close behind his crouched form. He desperately lunged at Mike, his wild, angry eyes becoming as big as saucers. Steve grimaced as the hunks of ridged flesh slowly closed around him.

 

 

 

"Oh God! Help me, Mike! You've got to help me! Oh fuuu-"

 

 

 

Steve's arm slapped against the scuffed melamine as he crumpled like paper. Acrid vomit splattered against the distorted glass wall. For a second, Steve's terrified face mopped spasmodically through the vomit before the clawing arm and grimacing face were effortlessly whisked backwards from Mike's strange room.

 

 

 

Mike couldn't really help it, to see someone his size in direct comparison to the impossibly huge form of his mother caused him to harden up automatically. Steve dangled upside down, caught between a feminine thumb and index finger that seem to be almost the girth of those concrete pylons used to support highway overpasses. He pressed his body up against the glass as the gigantic, beautiful hand towed it's tiny, weightless cargo to the middle of the end table. With a careful grace Steve's tiny swinging form was lowered and then released onto the black plain.

 

 

 

Mike watched as Steve twitched, cowering on hands and knees. Above him the titanic hand hovered, digits folded loosely. Mike could hear him coughing as a massive index finger unfolded and traced a wide, playful circle around his tiny, glistening form. Glancing upwards Mike caught the distant foreshortened face of his omnipotent and smiling parent. The cheerful blue eyes snapped over to him for a moment before coming to rest once again on the tiny, blustery loudmouth. Was she checking to see if he was watching?

 

 

 

Steve staggered up onto his feet. He was wiping vomit from his face. The tiny thing was nudged by a lavender polished fingernail as tall as he was. Steve cussed as he pitched over onto his stomach. He began to crawl as Linda's hand came low over him. The index finger daintily intercepted the pitiful young man. Mike adjusted slightly against the glass to a spot that offered a less distorted view as Steve's scream was cut off by the fingertip. All Mike could see was a pair of tiny spasmodically clenching hands which peeked out from beneath the bulging, rotund flesh.

 

 

 

Linda's unstoppable digits took their time in getting a firm pinch around Steve's fatigued body. The massive hand came slowly across the table to where Mike stood pressed against the glass. He stepped away as Steve's soiled and defeated face hovered there in front of him. Both of Steve's tiny hands were clenched on the edge of the massive index fingernail which jutted outwards beneath him. They stared at each other for a moment, Steve's mouth working silently at unknown words. He was crying. The gigantic fingertips came closer as Steve's eyes widened. He began shouting in frustration as Linda pressed his face up against the glass. Then Steve began to beg her as she dragged his tiny face slowly across the glass. Mike watched as his mother slowly traced the silhouette of a heart. Then Steve was taken away.

 

 

 

Mike watched the moaning, helpless form ascend rapidly. In only the blink of an eye Steve was gone, hidden somewhere in the endless and distorted vision of his own mother. The colossus nonchalantly brought her pinched fingers up to her other, now-opened hand. She could have been depositing a bit of dirt she had just found, or a lost earring into her palm. But Mike knew better.

 

 

 

As Mike watched the vast blue swathed hips turned away from him. His bones rattled as Linda went to her walk in closet. At the furthest point from him, Mike could finally recognize the newly rearranged vision of his beautiful yet seemingly ordinary parent as she put away her toys. Then she was smiling down on him as she covered the vast distance to his absurd confinement. Her hands were working free the buttons of her blue shorts as her familiar shape distorted into fields of moving, breathing color and texture. The shorts and the silky hints of panties slid away, downwards to be lost somewhere below on the endless plain of the carpet. Mike took in the awe-inspiring sight of what dominated the sky directly above him as a hand situated itself around the top of his glass cage.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3:Candy-Land Kiss by V11

 

 

Their home was a strange one. The giantess had opted for a squat, glass candy dish with a tight fitting lid. The kind of thing one might find at their own grandparent's house, or orphaned at a flea market. Then there was the enormous pile of scratchy, white fluff that filled half of their little chamber. Jesse kept correcting Steve when he disparaged it.

 

 

 

"No, it's organic cotton. Linda used organic cotton. It isn't some stuffing from inside of an old teddy bear or something. It isn't craft store crap."

 

 

 

They had argued about that. Steve didn't give a rat's ass what the oversized Beer Maiden had employed at all, but Jesse seem to find it important to stress that Linda really did care about them. Though Linda was twisted into something almost wholly unrecognizable and alarming.

 

 

 

Two plastic bottle caps and a piece of thick fabric completed their luxurious home. Linda had been nice enough to push the fluffy, scratchy material off of the bottom of the glass dish on one side, where the bottle caps resided. The fabric was used to keep them off of the cotton as they slept, it was so large that they would double it over and use it as a blanket.

 

 

 

The spacious candy dish had it's own space on a deep shelf in Linda's enormous walk-in closet. The air here was permanently tainted with the smell of Linda's clothes and the sharp, pungent leather scent of the enormous shoes which populated the rest of the shelves surrounding them.

 

 

 

They both thought that their captor was spending time with her son. Steve tried to broach the subject with Jesse of Mike's arousal around Linda. Jesse didn't want to talk about it. He had wheedled, plainly stating the fact that Mike always had a hard on whenever Steve had the rare opportunity to see mother and son together.

 

 

 

"Can you blame him?" Jessie had said.

 

 

 

The statement had absolutely blown up in Steve's face, it was so strange and so unexpected that he could not help himself. They were at it again, yelling at each other, but about that now. But they didn't cover any ground, not about Mike at least, it was more about Jesse and Linda. Steve hated it when she would occasionally say something cryptic that seemed like she was sticking up for Linda. She had done it at least three times in the last week or so since they had been abducted, and Steve wanted to know exactly why this was.

 

 

 

Steve knew something. He could just tell something weird was going on with Jesse, he just didn't know which of his suspicions were correct. But, he wasn't going to find out right now. He had already driven Jesse to the point that she was really angry at him. Somehow, Jesse either understood something about Linda that he could not possibly fathom. Or, Linda treated Jesse much differently when she was in her gigantic clutches. Or, Jesse liked it. Or all three. Or none. Steve hated thinking about stuff like this. It was pointless to him, it was all the result of drama, as he liked to call it. All of that shit Steve hated about high school. All of that shit that his friends who worked in offices talked about incessantly, as either active participants in or the harried victims of the sycophantic "like me games".

 

 

 

"Can you blame him?" What the hell did that mean? What could that possibly mean? That Linda was so incredibly beautiful? That Mike was in the clutches of an enormous person? How could that even be overwhelmingly erotic? That Mike was subjected to who-fucking-knows-what by his own mother? Steve quietly wondered if Jesse was a sadist. He wondered if perhaps Mike and Jesse wore little costumes and had delicious cakes and nice tea with the panic-inducing Linda while he, himself was rubbed against the enormous ex-cheerleader's clitoris, smashed and grated against the mammoth-tooth ridges of a yacht-sized sole? Was their treatment really that disparate?

 

 

 

Steve was very confused, so much so that he felt blank and somewhat tired with trying to plumb internally too many things that were just plainly too fucking weird. Jesse had that look, once she had calmed down, once she could stand to look at him again. Steve could never say no to that look, not from Jesse. Was there anyone who could?

 

 

 

Steve should have known better. He did that sometimes, not thinking through something entirely, acting out brashly. But, when something made him angry, sometimes, when something got to him…

 

 

 

They were really going at it. They were good at this, with each other. This was what had sustained their relationship even though Steve was an ass, and Jesse could be such a mess sometimes. But, the makeup sex, it was so good and it happened so often. Because Jesse liked to cuddle when she had been hurt and Steve could not touch her like that when she was doe-eyed and fragile without immediately wanting to put it to her.

 

 

 

"What was that? Did you hear something?"

 

 

 

Jesse had tried to pause and get Steve to pay attention. But he wouldn't, he wanted release, he just wanted to stop thinking about this terrible situation. He wanted to be somewhere else so badly. He ignored her wide eyes and cocked head straining to listen. He had pushed her lower and deeply kissed her mouth until she gave up with a lusty giggle.

 

 

 

Steve actually liked the batting, or the "organic cotton" or whatever it was, for sex. His knees could sink on either side of Jesse into it. He could pull her to him since she was so small and light, bunching it up underneath her tender hips. He could push her head further down and angle himself just right for deep and slow penetration.

 

 

 

He liked it so much, he could feel and reach so much more without hotspots on his knees, he had really learned to get into their lovemaking in a new way. He had his eyes shut, really getting into filling her and feeling her move against him. He didn't know for how long he had closed his eyes listening instead to the deep tickle of flesh. But, when Steve opened his eyes she was right there. He had flinched violently.

 

 

 

"Steve!"

 

 

 

"It's okay, sorry baby."

 

 

 

He looked at Jesse until she had shut her eyes again and then Steve snapped his own up to see what Linda was going to do. He wasn't about to stop just because Linda was checking on them. He wasn't Linda's toy. He would not give her the satisfaction.

 

 

 

As he watched Linda lowered her enormous face until she blotted out everything beyond the shelf. Her enormous eyes were amused and Steve watched as that beautiful mouth smirked haughtily. He could just tell what she was thinking, he knew her well enough by now.

 

 

 

"Oh my, this is delicious!"

 

 

 

That is what, more or less, the pretty face betrayed. Steve kept staring at her as he pumped into Jesse. The giant blonde head came closer and lowered slowly. Steve fully expected her to tap one of her fingernails on the glass, like what one would do in a pet shop despite all of the signs asking nicely to refrain from such a thing. She didn't.

 

 

 

As Steve watched the perfect lips slowly slid back and out into a wide grin, showing off immaculate teeth that were easily the size of his own torso if not greater. Steve continued giving it Jesse who was lost reaching and savoring the sensations from behind her beautiful closed eyelids.

 

 

 

Then, as Steve watched Linda grew playful. Her full lips went gently into a puckered 'O' and she held it there for a moment before relaxing them into a giant, sexy pout. Then she slowly licked her lips for him as she peered down with heavily-lidded eyes. Steve had a little smile playing across his face as he quickened the pace inside of Jesse. Linda brought her mouth much closer to the glass where Steve could not ignore her and she was running her enormous tongue slowly over her teeth. She blew him a little kiss, the vast lips bucking outwards in a slow motion eruption of pillowing, blossoming flesh.

 

 

 

Steve was getting harder. He wanted to fuck Linda. The first moment he had laid eyes on her he had wanted to fuck her. But he knew she was unobtainable, even in the first seconds of taking in her smiling, slinky golden form draped across his stupid little apartment's doorway. Now Linda was genuinely unobtainable. She had done this to them, to him. She had skewed everything with that goddamned perfume bottle. Now Steve was beyond exposed, beyond vulnerable and obtainable to her. But everything had been inverted, turned into a wretched fun house parody. Linda could never be had, at the expense of Jesse and Mike and Steve's own now tiny and vulnerable bodies. She had dipped a pretty finger into the base code of physics and screwed everything up for them.

 

 

 

Linda was gliding an enormous fingertip across her lips and it couched itself between them. This almost threw Steve out of his rhythm and off his concentration. Linda's fingers were a piece of her, certainly, and in context belonged there as a complement to that gorgeous face. But to him, her fingers brought forth strong feelings that seemed more appropriately attached to what he might ponder about a prowling great white shark. He pushed instantly past this hitch, after all, Linda was not threatening but giving him a show. Would he ever get a chance like this again? Steve watched as the titaness made love to her finger with her mouth slowly. She was staring at him with those cold blue eyes as she slowly licked and wetly engulfed her fingertip in her own pout.

 

 

 

Steve was close. He wasn't thinking about Jesse. She was just a mount, the fleshy, malleable perch that he was thrusting into as he linked Jesse's warm resistance to Linda's mouth and enormous amused eyes.

 

 

 

"What the fuck? Oh my God! Steve!"

 

 

 

Jesse pulled away and kicked him. Then the lid of the candy dish screeched as everything shook. They were deafened as the enormous glass lid rang out as it was removed. The light in their tiny, makeshift home dimmed as waterfalls of platinum hair cascaded downwards, thumping and rustling eerily on the other side of the glass. The enormous, pretty face hovered just above the circular opening of the candy dish, too large to see entirely at once in the opening. Linda's thick, powerful voice poured down into the little candy dish and crashed into every surface, flesh, glass and cotton simultaneously.

 

 

 

"Steven! Just what do you think you are doing to her! Jesse, I'm so sorry! He is a randy little ape! It's okay honey, he doesn't understand, he was just trying to mark his territory, I think."

 

 

 

Jesse tumbled away, covering her tits as an elegant thumb and index finger closed around Steve and lifted him away.

 

 

 

"Well, I'm not buying any more pet psychology books, they're useless. You want to take advantage of that poor, beautiful girl, Steven? Well, why don't you try that with someone who can fight back, hmm?"

 

 

 

Jesse stumbled and fell into the cotton as Linda propped her elbows down on either side of the candy dish. Far above her Steve was being passed back and forth between both sets of gigantic, exquisite digits like an inch-length of wet shoestring. Linda was grinning as she played with his tiny rag doll of a body.

 

 

 

"I am not about to let you finish yourself off down there in front of her with your... own hand. God, that's distasteful for me to even say, Steven. But that's okay. I know I interrupted you trying to… mark and claim that poor girl. I know it's uncomfortable to be interrupted. I know about blue-balls, Steven."

 

 

 

Linda had laid him in her palm for a moment and her face was everywhere above him. The nails of her index finger and thumb closed around the base of one of his thighs, immobilizing his tiny leg upwards in her pinch. Her thumbnail had pinned his tiny hard cock to the inside of his trapped leg. Steve was screaming and punching the pretty digits as she dragged him a little ways across the soft sculpture of her palm. They weren't dolls to her, they were too small for that. They were more like doll shaped bugs. The colossus stopped tugging at him and the beautiful face became even closer beyond his fleshy torture stage. The pretty eyes squinted as the vast, sexy mouth undulated into a smirk. Linda's broad thumbnail repositioned itself, exposing the tiny cock, not much more than a large splinter against the field of purple lacquer. Linda grinned as she caressed Steve's hard penis with the edge of her thumbnail before letting go of his leg.

 

 

 

"I know you think of me as some sort of a princess, Steven."

 

 

 

Steve flipped over onto his stomach and tried to crawl away from the colossal assaulting digits that hovered between him and her smiling face. A fingernail's broad curving face pushed him off of his hands and knees into a struggling pile. Linda's vast face held an easy smile as her five-foot diameter finger made short work of Steve's struggles. His tiny hindering arms were thrown aside effortlessly with an almost imperceptible nudge. The fingernail separated his kicking legs and began to explore his pitiful aroused junk.

 

 

 

"Well, I figured out long ago that boy's private parts don't really turn blue, thank you very much!"

 

 

 

The light purple fingernail delicately prodded the tiny man's balls and then slid itself up and down his sticky shaft. Linda flared her nostrils and smiled widely as she gently captured Steve again in a slow pinch. Linda brought him upward and appraised him in front of her face. She gently blew on him and brushed against the infinitesimal cock with the nail of her littlest finger as she held him close to her eyes.

 

 

 

"You weren't the first boy I gave my heart to, Steven. I am not as experienced as you, I know. But I do know a little bit about these things. These tiny little things. I know how boys are. I still have all those pamphlets they gave out in that naughty class in school. It was such good information, Steven. Really invaluable for a shy girl to have."

 

 

 

The tip of Linda's tongue started exploring Steve's tiny legs and crotch as he hung limply and compressed between her fingertips. Linda was gentle to him. Occasionally she would smile down at Jesse as she raped him. A few minutes later she paused and looked him over.

 

 

 

"I know what you like, Steven. I know exactly what you like about me. You told me once, remember? You said it was my pretty smile!"

 

 

 

She brought Steve close to her lips as her tongue resumed it's stroking. As he neared climax Linda gently pressed him against her puckered lips, engulfing the tiny body in slow little teasing kisses.

 

 

 

The deep, powerful feminine voice caused Steve's vision to blur and he buried his tiny face into a supple, swelling pleat of the vast lower lip where Linda had paused in her mouth play. "You like to watch, little bug?" The enormous mouth whispered sensuously, "do you like to watch my mouth, Steven?"

 

 

 

Steve was dragged off the lower lip and floated in front of the beautiful mouth once again. It unfurled into an easy, wide smile. The nib, the very tip of Linda's tongue finished him off as it peeked from between lips that combined were even taller than he was. As Steve came Linda slowly ran his tiny bucking body across her lower lip as she smiled.

 

 

 

Linda puckered and sunk the tiny sweaty body into her vast, playful mouth in a kiss. She engulfed him completely, cradling his exhausted form in the soft, full flesh. Linda took hold of the tiny, limp legs and pulled him free. She slathered him triumphantly across her pretty index fingertip. Then she brought Steve up close to one enormous blue eye and stared at him for a long moment.

 

 

 

She whispered to him, "serves you right. Doesn't it, Steven?"

 

 

 

Jesse watched, cowering, as the flawlessly manicured thumb and index finger invaded their spacious and transparent bedroom. One tiny leg swung limply from the gently formed crevice of the opposed digits. Jesse could have mistaken it for five strands of hair bundled wetly into a single unit or, perhaps, a bit of light brown wire. Not a human leg, certainly not Steve's lower leg.

 

 

 

The immense digits parted and Jesse gasped in shock. Steve was gurgling in wide-eyed panic, adhered belly-first to the downturned index fingertip.

 

 

 

“Let him go, Linda! Let him go!” Jesse shrieked, hopping in panic for a moment before wading uselessly into the cotton fluff. The blonde beauty laughed thunderously. The index finger waggled for a moment as Jesse fought the scratchy cloud, tiny arms outstretched towards her saliva-coated lover as she stumbled and fell into the bedding.

 

 

 

The thumb bent tightly against itself and it's nail slowly scraped down the length of dense flesh. Tiny Steve's body crumpled and collected wetly onto the thumbnail. The immense vertically downturned thumb held still as Linda monstrously peered down into the dish with an amused smirk. Steve was coughing, his tiny body quivered with effort as he slowly slid from the blonde's scrupulously tended thumbnail, landing in the cotton pile. Linda nudged him with her thumbnail as he coughed, rolling him over with it. She drove him down into the fiber cloud lightly with her thumb, softly touching repeatedly down onto the tiny form as she chided him. Jesse was screaming in protest.

 

 

 

"Now, leave her alone, Steven. Just because she smiles at you and she's really, really pretty is no justification for your actions! You can be so stupid, sometimes! All fairies look like that! Didn't you know? They can't help it."

 

 

 

Steve was whimpering as the enormous thumb repeatedly collided with his pitiful form until finally he went silent, nearly knocked unconscious and struggling mightily to take a breath. The huge pretty digit covered him ominously, lightly compressing his tiny body. Linda's eyes swept across and focused on Jesse.

 

 

 

"I think we deserve some girl time, you and I. Let's just let him think about what he's done. What else can I do other than rub his nose in it and hope he learns? Come on, Jesse. I'll buy you a drink. I want to ask you what you think about a little experiment. Something I might want your help with, hmm? Let's just let him stew it over."

 

 

 

As Jesse cowered, Linda gathered her up in a monstrous but soft pinch and replaced the lid.

 

 

 

Steve laid there for a long time, staring up out of the grave-like hole made out of ridiculous material. It wasn't entirely a bad experience. He certainly had his last, most immediate wish fulfilled, in a way.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4: Buy You a Drink by V11

 

Linda had carried Jesse somewhere in her muggy cave of a fist. Jesse watched as colors and random, disjointed details of a house sped past the strangely shaped open window formed by thumb and index finger nestled loosely against one another. The enormous hot fingers slowly opened and Jesse managed to not end up plastered to the lightly sticky "roof" of fleshy pillows as the elephantine, tree length columns parted and unfolded.

 

 

 

Linda actually let her crawl out of her hand for once. Jesse was not sure which was worse, being dominated helplessly in a pinch or crawling naked across the ridges and shiny, indented creases that marked where the dinosaur-sized joints of super-dense bone worked within the gleaming flesh. The tiny young woman picked her way carefully across the fingers, ever mindful that her tiny limbs, or even entire body, could plunge and be caught in the deep, round-sided crevices where finger lay resting against finger. She knew Linda by now all too well and that such an accident would prompt immediate play and arch, gleeful mockery. Jesse's only company on the dark faux wooden tabletop was a monumental wine glass and a condensation covered wine bottle.

 

 

 

Jesse had never been in this room before. There was an expensive, massive computer desk made from dark wood off to one side. There were two long tables pushed together at the far end of the room. Little boxes were strewn on one end, there were tools laid out, several kinds of sharp, pointed tweezers, like surgical instruments. There were bottles of glue, what looked to be little hand saws, a tiny vise clamped to the table. It looked like a place a jeweler might work except there were no machines, there was no polishing rouge thrown in a thin film over everything, no little torch attached to grim fuel tanks.

 

 

 

Jesse realized that these boxes had contained these very items. Linda had been busy purchasing… things… very recently. Linda thundered over to the table and was gathering stuff from it. Jesse's eyes picked over the detritus and she realized that some of these boxes had contained model kits. Two were illustrated with cheery, old fashioned, almost medieval-style houses basking in a warm sun. A little, long rectangular box was emblazoned with images of furniture. Past Linda's roaming hands was a partially built foundation of tiny bricks. Then Jesse saw people, tiny people, like her!

 

 

 

No, they were not real. There were little puddles of material under the feet. Little bases to help facilitate their upright and static postures. Jesse was deeply relieved, but simultaneously rather sad.

 

 

 

But then she caught movement, she realized that one tiny person was indeed real. Linda had paused and she slowly bent at the waist as she held her long blonde hair back in a hand. She was smiling down at whomever it was, standing in the middle of the partially built foundation. Jesse watched as Linda gently overwhelmed the tiny figure with the strokes of a fingertip. She was whispering something gently as she smiled. It had to be Mike.

 

 

 

Linda stood slowly and thundered past her with a happy smile, a gently closed hand held close to her waist. She disappeared through the doorway and Jesse was left shivering on the table by herself. The huge wine bottle was at fault, thick and clammily cold air had filled the table's top, radiating from the glassy and wet tower. Jesse crouched and pulled her legs into herself, wrapping them in her arms as goosebumps tightened her skin.

 

 

 

Then, the titaness returned. She picked up several things from the far tables and brought them with her to where Jesse huddled. As the enormous figure drew close, Linda's hips overwhelmed Jesse's view of anything else beyond the table. Linda was pouting, her vivid eyes big and sympathetic. It was a look reserved for a baby, a puppy, a cherished rodent. Linda lowered and her magnificent legs thrust gracefully beyond the overhang of the table beneath Jesse.

 

 

 

"Aww. I'm sorry Jesse! I wasn't thinking! Let me put these things down."

 

 

 

The hands arched over Jesse and thumps shook the table.

 

 

 

"Here, let me get you warmed up! Oh, you poor little thing!"

 

 

 

Jesse was gently picked up in a light pinch. The next thing she knew Linda had laid her into her palm.

 

 

 

"You won't like this, but you'll be nice and toasty in a second."

 

 

 

Linda smiled and a wide pretty thumb lowered down.

 

 

 

"No, Linda! Oh, god, please don't!"

 

 

 

Linda's smile broke into a delighted grin as the tiny protests reached her ears. Jesse rolled to get up and the palm's flesh beneath her compressed into bulges at the long creases as it scrunched upwards into a cupped trough. Jesse was denied the momentum to complete her roll and only managed to simply scoot a bit as she flailed on her back. She settled in a giant crease on the palm and the flesh on each side quickly swelled and pressed in on her as she cried. The bulky thumb pad lightly touched down, covering her completely, Jesse squealed as her tiny limbs quivered, trapped and made impotent. She was surrounded in hot, tacky flesh on all sides, held gently in the firm crevice by Linda's simple gesture.

 

 

 

"Oh, stop it now. I am not hurting you, Jesse. I'm just warming you up. Aren't I? Isn't this nice and warm?"

 

 

 

Jesse was crying, but she was sheathed in a hot blanket of air. She screamed as Linda's slow, soothing voice rattled her teeth suddenly, making her vision blur and her breasts ache. The monster must have brought her fearsome mouth down just beyond Jesse's confinement.

 

 

 

"Be a good girl, Jesse. I'm trying to help you. That's all. Or, maybe next time you'll go somewhere much, much hotter to drive off your little chills."

 

 

 

Jesse pressed her face against the mighty thumb and tried unsuccessfully to gain purchase with her tiny teeth. The swirled mass lifted off of her, and she felt a light sting as her skin peeled quickly from the demon's flesh. Jesse was blinking in the light and Linda was shaking her head as she stared down her long nose at her.

 

 

 

"Well, this just won't do. You need a blanket."

 

 

 

Linda deposited her next to the wine glass and then rummaged around on the far side of the room. Jesse heard scissors being worked and then Linda was back. Fingertips offered a tiny square of fabric to her and Jesse gratefully pulled the corner of it from the frightening crevice. She realized that it was the same material as the huge coverlet in the candy dish. Jesse wrapped it tightly around her and watched as Linda's huge form rolled downwards past her as she sat in the chair. The table was too small. Linda was too close, towering almost straight up into the air, where it was rather difficult for Jesse to see her face.

 

 

 

"I wanted to relax with you, Jesse. To really have some time together. I didn't bring you here to scare you. I wanted to have you help me with something. Try something out I just got. Okay?"

 

 

 

Jesse stared up at her. The problem with dealing with the demoness was that Jesse never knew. She could never tell what was really going on, what Linda might be setting her up for. There was never a warning, a crack in the pretense's subtle veneer. Never.

 

 

 

Linda smiled down at her, and Jesse felt very, very small and trapped. This was almost like being on her body, Linda was a towering, breathing wall which shot straight upwards just beyond the edge of Jesse's flat, featureless world. Her wine-infused breath tumbled invisibly downwards onto the table and slowly spread and swept across it, warming Jesse and tickling her elbows and neck as it eddied around her.

 

 

 

"Okay. Well, as you can see I've been busy. You know, the other day, when I got to see you through the camera. It got me thinking. So, I stayed up late that night doing research and shopping. It was worth it to have these things shipped overnight. I am excited. Here, let me just show you."

 

 

 

Linda reached over her to retrieve her purchases. She began assembling things on one of the front corners of the table. A black plastic box was deposited, twice as tall as Jesse, the top covered with thickly-knurled knobs the size of large residential HVAC units. The terrifying fingers plugged a black, flexible girder-sized cord from another, smaller device into a silver lined hole in the side of the plastic box.

 

 

 

An enormous black stand was sat down, the top of it was crowned with what was obviously a camera. Linda's intimidating fingers made short flights here and there at breathtaking speeds and applied incredible forces to these objects which she was assembling. Jesse realized just how delicate and slowly the titaness had always handled her. It seemed such an obvious thing, but up to this point Jesse had only been concerned with the harrowing physical and heinous mental effects of Linda's interactions.

 

 

 

The titaness slid out a long shelf from the computer desk and began to set up a laptop and power supply upon it. Jesse stayed well back from Linda's activity and as the enormous being moved around her little table Jesse knelt warily, frightened that the huge woman would accidentally bump her cluttered perch.

 

 

 

Half an hour later, with the laptop running and all of the gear turned on Linda seemed happy.

 

 

 

"Would you like some wine? I'm going to have some more."

 

 

 

Linda reached over to the computer desk and then lowered a table, Jesse's size, down in front of her. Linda giggled as Jesse got up and came over to it, running her fingers over the dense surface. It looked like a wooden table from a storybook castle. The wood grain finish was heavily indented into the surface. The fake nail heads across the top were sloppily colored with dark splotches of poorly aimed paint.

 

 

 

"I've washed it off really well. I have little dishes and goblets in the mail. I'm sorry, but this is just how you're going to have to drink your wine for now."

 

 

 

Jesse backed up as one of Linda's fingernails deposited a huge drop of wine onto the tabletop. It was the size of Jesse's head and Linda smiled.

 

 

 

"Go ahead! It's good stuff, I promise. Now, let's see if this will finally work…"

 

 

 

As Jesse drank the sweet Spanish wine Linda was busy fiddling with the laptop.

 

 

 

"Aha!" Linda exclaimed, "it's working! Oh, good!"

 

 

 

Linda adjusted the camera downwards as she looked to the laptop's screen. Then, Linda began giggling loudly.

 

 

 

"There you are! There's that beautiful face!"

 

 

 

Jesse could see herself in profile on the laptop. She turned and looked at the camera and then again at the screen. Jesse waved and Linda giggled and waggled a finger at her.

 

 

 

"Hi, Jesse! Well, that's a relief. I couldn't get it working earlier. Well, let's see what other gizmos my magic, secret post office box has brought for us to try out."

 

 

 

Linda's huge fingers slid the tethered device closer to the tiny table. Jesse watched as the purple nails worked at removing a small plastic bag that protected the central projection. The giantess tore the tape away and removed it. Jesse realized that this was some specialized kind of microphone. Perhaps something for a musical instrument, or some other unknown purpose.

 

 

 

Linda plugged something very small into the other side of the black box, it looked to be a wireless transceiver. Linda pressed a wireless earpiece into her ear. She fiddled with her smart phone, then punched a button on the black box and looked expectantly down on Jesse.

 

 

 

"Say something."

 

 

 

Linda shook her head and fiddled with the enormous knobs on the black box again.

 

 

 

"Try it again."

 

 

 

Linda's eyes grew wide as she grinned and she tweaked the controls.

 

 

 

"One more time."

 

 

 

"Linda? Hello?"

 

 

 

"Hi, Jesse! I can hear you! Clear as a bell!"

 

 

 

"Linda? You can really hear me?"

 

 

 

"Yes! Oh, it's wonderful! Hi!"

 

 

 

"Linda?"

 

 

 

"This is amazing, isn't it?"

 

 

 

"You leave my boyfriend alone, you gigantic bitch! Do you understand me?"

 

 

 

Linda grinned.

 

 

 

"I can't stop you. I can't keep you from doing terrible things to us! But, don't you ever do that again! Don't you ever get between us like that, ever again! Do you understand me?"

 

 

 

"I think, my tiny fairy, that you need to understand something," the blonde colossus was smiling and she casually extended an index finger and brought it to Jesse.

 

 

 

Jesse marched right up and kicked Linda's five-foot-diameter fingertip.

 

 

 

"I don't care! What are you going to do, huh? Are you going to touch me? Are you going to hold me down? Are you going to finally squish me, Linda? What's it going to be today? Huh?"

 

 

 

Jesse smacked the bulge of flesh that welled up, framing the long fingernail on one side. Linda kept the finger still, fascinated, or perhaps still listening.

 

 

 

"If you want to do anything to Steve or myself I can't stop you. But, you don't compete with me! Do you understand? You don't get to do that to me! You pick him up and you go and you torture him in your pussy, or whatever other sick fucking things you come up with! I can't stop you! It really hurts Steve! You're an evil monster. I know you won't stop. You won't listen to me. But..."

 

 

 

Jesse started slapping both of her hands against the dense flesh as she screamed up at Linda's face.

 

 

 

"You don't get to go behind my back! You don't get to tease him like that when we are having sex! Why can't you just let me have Steve like that? Why did you have to play with him like that?"

 

 

 

Linda unfolded the rest of her fingers and rested them on the edge of the table. Tiny Jesse didn't flinch and didn't move though she was now a tiny slip of pale flesh between mammoth threats. She was slapping Linda right beyond her cuticle. She kicked the bulging side of the lovely fingertip.

 

 

 

"It's not fair! You're supposed to be the monster! Don't you understand? You're supposed to be the monster!"

 

 

 

Linda could see little tears and Jesse had lost her blanket. Linda could hear her sobbing as Jesse slapped her hands on the side of the huge fingertip.

 

 

 

"You can't make him like it! That isn't fair! All I have is Steve now! Don't take Steve away from me! You great big bitch! Don't you dare do that to me! What the fuck is wrong with you? We are already your little goddamned toys, Linda! What is wrong with you? You leave Steve alone when he is with me!"

 

 

 

Jesse punched her again and then was glaring up at her.

 

 

 

"Go ahead, torture me. Stick me in that horrible place and laugh at me. I know you want to. I know it gets you off. I can hear you fingering yourself sometimes when you abandon me under there! I'm not stupid. Go ahead, Linda. What's stopping you?"

 

 

 

The enormous fingers slid off the edge as Jesse hugged herself. Linda pinched up the blanket and held it in front of Jesse.

 

 

 

"Wouldn't you rather talk to me? Don't you want to drink some wine with me?"

 

 

 

Jesse took the blanket and wrapped it back around herself. She looked up at Linda and then turned away, marching angrily over to the gigantic scarlet blob rested in the center of little table. Linda was staring at the monitor, looking at her, studying her tiny face.

 

 

 

Jesse broke the surface tension of the drop and guzzled the wine. She wiped off her face and looked into the camera.

 

 

 

"What the fuck did you expect? Huh? You gigantic, sadistic... Did you think that I was going to tell you what you wanted to hear when you hooked up that microphone?"

 

 

 

"No. I hooked it up, so… I want to talk to you."

 

 

 

"Well, we're talking now."

 

 

 

As Linda's chair slid backwards everything trembled around Jesse. Then the enormous face lowered and floated just beyond the edge of the table. Linda adjusted the earpiece and watched as Jesse took another drink.

 

 

 

"Ah. Is the wine good? I like it."

 

 

 

"Yes. Linda?"

 

 

 

"Yes?"

 

 

 

"Why are you like this?"

 

 

 

"What do you mean?"

 

 

 

"You know what I mean."

 

 

 

"No, I don't. What do you mean?"

 

 

 

"Why did you shrink us? I mean, what's wrong with you? Did something… fuck, Linda, you shrank your own son."

 

 

 

"Adopted son."

 

 

 

"Oh. Well, that makes it okay then, doesn't it? I mean, if he was your biological son there would be no way that you could bring yourself to…"

 

 

 

Linda reached over and picked up her glass. She drained it and poured herself another. A finger invaded Jesse's space as Linda renewed the droplet upon the one-to-seventy-two scaled table. She sat there for a moment, looking out into space in serious thought before smiling down on Jesse.

 

 

 

"Let me tell you about my grandfather, Fritz, and my friend Kaori... and Heinrich."

 

 

 

"Umm. Okay."

 

 

 

"At the end of World War II there was a German project, one of those desperate, crazy Nazi experiments, it was top secret. Well, my grandfather, Fritz..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jesse had listened intently, enraptured. Now she understood why Linda was Linda. Now she knew why they suffered. Despite all of the intelligence, the discipline, the tenacity and imagination, there was just beneath Linda's surface the newly unleashed core of that little girl. Someone who wanted to capture, touch, play, and now dominate the helpless and magically tiny victims of a terrible thing called Keepsake. A strange and potent legacy from what seemed to Jesse to be a normal and loving family.

 

 

 

Linda had continued to drink and so had she. Jesse could tell that Linda had softened, that there was a strange relief in telling Jesse how she had came into possession of such a frightening power. Jesse realized something uncompromisingly awful, she knew that Linda could not be reasoned with. She wasn't crazy, she was Linda, the child surrounded by the tiny possibilities, the dividends of that terrible project. There was no reversing Jesse's fate, or Steve's, or even Mike's. But…

 

 

 

Jesse took the opportunity. She laid out her proposal, an understanding and an accord with the huge woman...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Look, I told you! That's the deal. You either take it or leave it."

 

 

 

Linda's chin rested on the edge of the table. She liked how her exhalations caused Jesse's hair to flutter. Linda reached out a finger and ran her nail across Jesse's leg as the tiny thing leaned over the miniature table and gulped down wine.

 

 

 

"Don't touch me! I don't want you to touch me!"

 

 

 

Jesse pushed at the bowed purple surface and Linda relented, resting her gargantuan finger a little ways away. Jesse calmed and then looked up at the huge face.

 

 

 

"Well?"

 

 

 

"Okay. You have a deal, fairy-girl."

 

 

 

Jesse smiled.

 

 

 

"Linda?"

 

 

 

"Yes?"

 

 

 

"I have to pee."

 

 

 

Jesse started laughing and Linda's face grimaced as she suppressed a gale-force belly laugh before rocketing upwards, away from the table. She held a hand over her mouth and laughed deafeningly.

 

 

 

"Well, let me go get a bottle cap. I really have to come up with something better than that. I haven't even thought about it yet."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5: "Mikey" a Silent Film by V11

 

He was right. Dammit, he was right about the disparity in treatment. Linda had brought Jesse back hours after she had taken her. Jesse was stinking drunk. It smelled like wine. So did the sexy monster's breath.

 

 

 

Jesse had pretended to be traumatized for a little bit, but she was just way too drunk. Eventually she was fucking with him, throwing little wads of the cotton at him as she leered and fingered herself nastily. Completely out of her gourd. She wouldn't tell him what had happened between her and Linda other than when pressed to say it wasn't pleasant. Steve had believed that part. You couldn't be an inch tall and around Linda Johnson for very long at all before she would begin to play.

 

 

 

Jesse had passed out, face down in the scratchy cotton. Later that night she had woke him up with her vomiting. The next day Jesse was in a foul mood, weak and badly hung over. Linda had left them alone for the most part, only appearing to feed them and take away the bottle caps when finished. If there was only something to do to pass the boredom between the horror. But there wasn't, and that entire day Steve had been left alone with the moody and mostly sleeping Jesse.

 

 

 

The next morning, or so Steve thought, Linda came and plucked Jesse up. Steve spent five minutes cursing up at the impossibly large woman as she tormented him with one of her overly-pampered fingers. Finally the towheaded behemoth let him be and turned her attention to Jesse. Steve listened to Jesse's terrified screams as Linda slowly thundered out of the closet, giggling and cooing condescendingly. If Linda was already starting in on her, Steve knew that Jesse would not be coming back drunk and in a good mood from the encounter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I want you to test something for mommy. Will you do that for me, Mikey? It's for Steve and Jesse. But I don't want them to know, okay?"

 

 

 

I shook my head exaggeratedly yes and she slid her underwear drawer open a bit further. She deafened me with a giggle as I was launched on to a pair of pink silk panties. Her beautiful hand invaded my world and I was softly gathered up before my stomach flipped over nauseously.

 

 

 

I had no idea what she was trying to accomplish. I wasn't even sure at first that this really was for Jesse and Steve. But I realized quite soon that it was probably not intended for me as my mother wrapped my waist and upper thighs in the piece of thread.

 

 

 

"Hold still, little boy. I have to tie this."

 

 

 

I don't know why Linda didn't just let me tie it. Sure, the knot was at the small of my back, but even so, I could accomplish it so much better than she could with those frightening tweezers. She left trailing off of me a long piece of thread, probably six inches or so. It is pretty easy to make accurate measurements when you are just shy of one inch in height. She tied the other end of the thread to the front of a snow sled she had gotten online. It was a far cry from a real one, but it was also tiny, just like me, just like them.

 

 

 

I spent the next ten minutes with my beautiful mother stacking tiny bricks onto the sled, one by one, with those tweezers she liked so much.

 

 

 

"Can you pull it now, Mikey? How about now?"

 

 

 

More bricks, and finally I could not budge it.

 

 

 

Her beautiful finger's nails gently closed onto the tiny sled and she carefully took it upwards before dumping all of the bricks into her palm.

 

 

 

"Good job, Mikey! But, I want to see if you can pull it on the carpet, you know? Here, I'll just grab a few more teeny-tiny bricks. Then, let's try the den. The carpet is short there."

 

 

 

I watched as she pressed her fingertip down onto each additional tiny brick and as they adhered there, she move them to the diminutive pile in her palm. There was something about that which made me even harder. But then I was aloft and flying through the air at several hundred miles an hour in my scale. The canopy of folded fingers shielded me from the worst of the whistling wind currents.

 

 

 

The tiny pile of bricks was dumped first irreverently to the carpet and then my vast mother carefully brought my tiny form and the equally tiny sled down. I watched as she snatched something from the coffee table. She sat down that imposing black camera on it's stout mount out a good distance away from me. She smiled at me as she adjusted it downwards, one eye shut and her head directly behind it as she crouched on her enormous elbows and knees beyond it.

 

 

 

"For posterity! I have all those films of you as a newly-adopted baby, just learning to crawl! This will be just as cute! Don't you think, Mikey?"

 

 

 

I hated it when she called me that. Since my fantastical abduction that seemed to be the least mocking and acerbic name she would level at me. Still, we both knew I was tiny. I didn't really understand why she bounced between a syrupy, condescending tone and something filled with more menace and emasculating mockery.

 

 

 

I watched the wondrous and frightening sight of my enormous mother crawling on her hands and knees towards me. She smiled at me and then hunkered down onto her elbows. She produced the fearsome tweezers again and began to stack the tiny bricks onto the sled.

 

 

 

"I don't have scales to see how much you weigh yet. They're expensive. Like really expensive, Mikey, even for mommy. Besides, that would only tell me how much you weigh. It wouldn't tell me how strong you are. But, I will get scales. I'll know just how much it takes to immobilize Jesse and Steve. That's good to know, right Mikey?"

 

 

 

She finally finished her neat, interlaced stack. It became boring to watch and I tried to help, but those tweezers moving around with those wicked points.

 

 

 

"Hold on a second."

 

 

 

She rose upwards into the sky on her knees and she was fussing was something on the coffee table.

 

 

 

"Well, let me go and push record on the DVR, then I can watch your little…"

 

 

 

The doorbell rang.

 

 

 

"Shit. Um."

 

 

 

Both sets of pretty fingers reached towards me and twitched indecisively.

 

 

 

The doorbell rang again.

 

 

 

"Well, whoever it is won't get past me. I'll be right back, Mikey."

 

 

 

My awe-inspiring mother climbed to her feet and snatching up her phone thundered away from me, leaving me in the middle of the floor of the den.

 

 

 

The doorbell rang again.

 

 

 

"I'm coming! Hold your horses!"

 

 

 

I heard the door open and the distant sound of her voice. I heard some movement from the front door, a strange thump and some other small activity, more movement of some sort.

 

 

 

I looked around. I was alone. I was alone! Maybe I could… Maybe she wouldn't be able to…

 

 

 

Well, fuck, I had to at least try. I knew that there were probably some crumbs of food underneath where she always sat to eat at the kitchen table. There just had to be. Besides that, there was always my bedroom. There had to be something edible, even now after this long time, wedged randomly in the carpet around my enormous, silly old bed.

 

 

 

Shit.

 

 

 

I glanced back at the camera. I'm not sure why. It was off, I knew that much.

 

 

 

I tugged at the lead tied around my infinitesimal waist.

 

 

 

Mike, you moron.

 

 

 

I let out a small frustrated sound from my throat and frantically ran to the stupid little sled. I started pushing off bricks, I bruised the backs of my hands as I hollowed out the center of the stack and the sides fell in and almost hurt me.

 

 

 

I froze. What was that? Was she done at the door? Was there someone else coming in to my prison, my childhood home?

 

 

 

I ran back out until the slack was gone and began to slowly pull the sled across the short pile of the carpet. It could be done. I was doing it.

 

 

 

Where was I going to go? Under the couch? No. It was in the center of the room, across from the den's television against the wall. I would be caught, my gigantic mother could easily skirt around it in a few steps. Out into the hallway, make a break for my bedroom?

 

 

 

No. It was too far and the carpet changed at the beginning of the hallway to a tall, thick and bristly sea. To the kitchen? That was going towards her. Even if I stayed against the wall…

 

 

 

My decision was made for me. I heard footsteps, loud and decisive. But, these were the sounds of gigantic shoed feet! My mother had been bare foot! Oh God. Who was in the house? Was she with them? I had to get away! Find cover!

 

 

 

I pulled with all of my might as the hard footsteps rang out on the linoleum. There was only one place I might be able to reach, one of the antique chairs that was my mother's pride and joy. I pulled as hard as I could, straining against the stupid load that I was unable to lighten sufficiently.

 

 

 

The sharp clacking steps had now crossed most of the kitchen. Any moment now and I suspected that a normal sized person would gain a good enough angle to see me over the hip-high decorative wall which poorly partitioned the kitchen from the den. I managed to make it to the thick, sculpted front leg of the antique chair. I dragged my load until it was concealed behind my meager cover and then I scrambled to join it.

 

 

 

A pair of monstrous feet came to the threshold of the den's carpeting and stopped. I cautiously peered from my cover. Tall, dark brown open toed heels. A woman's shoes. They might spot me! I ducked back to my comforting cover. I cursed myself, why hadn't I checked above the monstrous waist? I was such an idiot. Such a tiny idiot!

 

 

 

Then I heard the thunderous reports of the enormous feet as this invader entered the den. I froze, crouched over the pile of tiny bricks. The tremors grew louder. The feet were moving slowly, almost stealthily or cautiously.

 

 

 

The feet stopped. I slowly stood and crept around the other side of the chair's leg.

 

 

 

There was a giantess. She was dressed in an old summer dress, some kind of a flower print. The hair was long and dark brown. She was not facing me. As I watched the colossus took several slow steps towards the hallway.

 

 

 

Crunch.

 

 

 

The enormous being stopped. She had just stepped on my tiny, discarded bricks. I watched as she looked down and stepped back, taking the enormous high heel cautiously off of the tiny pile. Her hands were tucked into pockets that were on the front of the dress. I watched as the enormous head looked curiously downwards and one scuffed high heel nudged the tiny things.

 

 

 

She started to bend at the knees as her head dropped, trying to discern what the brittle things were. Suddenly she turned towards me. I stifled a yelp and ducked back behind the enormous chair leg.

 

 

 

I heard her steps. She was coming towards the chair.

 

 

 

Then, the giantess was right there. Right on the other side of my hiding spot.

 

 

 

I heard a thump. Felt it slightly through my feet. Then, the chair lifted away, upwards into the air. I began screaming as I covered my head. I collapsed down next to the sled and I tried to tuck myself in parallel to it as tight as I could. I shut my eyes tightly and I trembled. I felt the chair pound mutely back to earth behind me.

 

 

 

There was a deafening sound, and the air was almost driven from my lungs from the explosive tremor. I could tell that the light had been blotted out through my shut eyes. I coughed and then sneezed as particles of enormous dust were freed from the carpet around me.

 

 

 

Still I kept my eyes shut.

 

 

 

The sled moved! I could hear the bricks tumble from it! I came up screaming, waving my arms as I opened my eyes.

 

 

 

An enormous spire, a spike, the stiletto of the heel was only feet away from me. The hard rubber tip was triumphantly planted into the pile of tiny bricks, breaking many beneath it into gravel. The enormous shoe was tilted back on the fulcrum of the stiletto.

 

 

 

I could not see my terrible new captor.

 

 

 

The scuffed rubber of the high heel rocked forward and the toe of it slammed down. I knelt underneath the arch, staring up into the monogrammed size and brand logo. I was trapped. Trapped beneath the foot of another giantess.

 

 

 

Where was my mother? Why had she not rescued me already? Where was her fast talk and her stories to decoy this creature away?

 

 

 

Then as I trembled underneath the high heel I realized that the imposing camera had moved. It was facing me, it's cold and almost illegible eye stared blankly at my bleak, miniature terror.

 

 

 

There was a rustling sound overhead and then something landed on the floor near the couch. It was a brunette wig.

 

 

 

"Where is that little bug? That little sled is here. But I don't see that poor, teeny-tiny little thing."

 

 

 

It was her! It was my mother the whole time! I ran out from underneath the shoe, a big, shit-eating grin on my face. She had got me! That was an epic prank!

 

 

 

The toe of the heel pivoted back and it rotated. I managed one glimpse of my mother, hands on hips, cruel smile on her face, her hair streaming in wisps out from where she had gathered and hastily pinned it. Then the toe of the high heel eclipsed my view. It lowered as I screamed.

 

 

 

I heard the monstrous creaking of leather above me, perhaps reminiscent of the timbers of a church protesting in a thunderstorm. The gritty, shallowly tread surface continued to fall. I was on my stomach, and I was screaming, and I crawled furiously. It touched my back and then I had rolled free.

 

 

 

Above me, to my side was a chocolate brown platform, like a stage. Crouching ensconced on the stage were five hulking, gorgeous toes. I rolled over and jumped up to my feet. The foot raised slowly as I did so and the platform caught me right in the stomach. I was gently tossed away from the enormous foot. The wind had been knocked from me.

 

 

 

I lay there gasping and I watched my mother press a fingertip against the headset perched in her ear.

 

 

 

"You are a very bad little bug, Mikey boy. Aren't you? Were you trying to escape?"

 

 

 

My answer was a dollop of spit awkwardly ejected onto my own face. Then I started coughing.

 

 

 

She bent at the waist, almost doubling up and I could see her tremendous fingers working free the straps on the old high heels before she swept back up into the sky.

 

 

 

"Well, little bug. I don't suppose you want me to squish you under these old shoes, do you? I should! You've been a disappointment ever since you went away from here. You know that, don't you?"

 

 

 

I watched as the colossus dropped several inches in overwhelming height. I watched as she kicked the shoes away to the side. I watched her rub her beautiful toes together.

 

 

 

"I leave you alone for three minutes. Three minutes! And what do you do?"

 

 

 

Her mighty big toe with the assistance of her long second toe closed around the tiny sled. She started to drag me backwards, putting me completely beneath her.

 

 

 

"You try to run away? Yes. The little bug tries to get away."

 

 

 

I ended up directly in front of her left foot. The goddess wiggled her shapely toes and the dust caused me to cough violently. The little sled was discarded behind her heel and the other beautiful foot dropped to the carpet once again. My mother lightly took up the camera and adjusted it so I could be seen.

 

 

 

"Go ahead. Go on. You're free to go, Mikey. If you can get away from me."

 

 

 

Her right foot took flight and she pointed her big toe down. It zeroed in on me. The long, purple toenail collided with my tiny body and she rolled me forcibly across the carpet, tangling my tiny legs in the cable-like thread I wore as a tail, a pitiful bug-lanyard.

 

 

 

"Well, go ahead! Fight back! Did you know that Jesse has more fight in her than you ever will? She bites me sometimes, Mikey. It's spectacular!"

 

 

 

I was tearing up. I tried to stand, but the thread impeded my silly legs too tightly. I hopped ridiculously for a moment before I pitched over onto my side.

 

 

 

"Mikey, god, you can be so pathetic sometimes. You know, even at an inch tall, sometimes you're much more pathetic than even that. Maybe if you were half an inch. Yeah, maybe at a half an inch your shenanigans wouldn't seem so absurd. Well, I guess your mother is going to have to bail you out again, aren't I?"

 

 

 

She hiked up the thing dress and lowered, booming as she folded down onto the carpet around me. I watched as she moved the little camera. Then her fingers plucked the sled from the carpet. She slowly dragged me towards her beautiful, frightening foot that lay sideways on the carpet. As she spoke, looking so thoughtful and so innocent, she ran the tiny sled between each immense toe. Soon I was next to her clenched pinky toe. The little thread had reached the stout, powerful big toe and she slowly ran the tiny sled over the top of that digit.

 

 

 

"When I was a little girl there was this game you would play with yarn. You've probably never seen that game, have you Mikey? You would run it between your fingers. Cats cradle? Was that it? Well, whatever it was. A game to you is something that takes batteries, doesn't it? So many batteries through the years. All of your birthdays, every Christmas. Then in the summertime when you weren't trying to be a hero on some sports team. All of those batteries while you played your little baseball game in your tree house. This game doesn't need batteries. I really used to like this game, Mikey."

 

 

 

I was lifted, legs first and I was slid slowly in between her pinky and next toe. She paused with me there, hanging diagonally and panting. I watched as she calmly adjusted the base of the camera and guessed at it's placement.

 

 

 

"Maybe this is a good place to stop for a moment, Mikey. Look around you, do that for me, would you? What do you see? I know what I see. I see two pretty toes. They're beautiful, aren't they, Mikey? You should know. Tell mommy. Tell me, Mikey. Are these toes beautiful? Do they meet your approval?"

 

 

 

"Yes! For the love of fuck! Come on-"

 

 

 

The crevices closed around me. I was suddenly completely encapsulated and compressed in the heavily ridged and smelly flesh. I was screaming and I wiggled like a worm. That's what I was, I was a worm. I think I might have always been a worm secretly, to her.

 

 

 

"Oh, well I guess I'm just not as good as you at descriptors! I forgot, I'm sorry, Mikey. They're big too, aren't they? Like, really big, and powerful. You can tell that they're attached to me. It's a pretty simple formula. Big, really big, beautiful, of course, and really, really fucking powerful."

 

 

 

She gave me another wring before she let go. I dangled, spent and bawling. Then, I was pulled limply over the top of the next toe until I was laying on it's top inside, confronted by an even larger sister above me.

 

 

 

"Kiss me, you little shit."

 

 

 

The crevices narrowed threateningly for a second. I began lavishing kisses on both surfaces as I begged her to just leave me alone.

 

 

 

"Too tiny. Not heartfelt enough. Too bad."

 

 

 

She closed her tremendous toes, sealing me gently inside the hot, pulsing flesh. I felt her pet me gently with a finger as I struggled there. She finally released me and I began my journey up underneath the trunk of the next toe.

 

 

 

"Oh, God, no! Mother! It was a prank! You're doing this on purpose!"

 

 

 

She paused again. I hung vertically underneath of the toe.

 

 

 

"What I like about how small all of you are is that I barely have to do anything at all to totally wreck you. It's wonderful. I guess the only problem is that it's so easy to hurt you. Mommy doesn't want to really hurt you. Permanently hurt you."

 

 

 

An enormous fingertip gently pressed me into the bottom of this toe. She began to flex it closed and I was pushed into an obscene crevice right at one of the toe joints. She held me there. I could not breathe. My head and my legs from the knees down stuck out past the soft, hot digit. She stared at me, quizzically for a moment.

 

 

 

"You look good there, Mikey! Like you belong there! That's good. That's the kind of spirit I want to see."

 

 

 

Her frightening fingernails deftly caught the little thread that was taut from my legs between them. My mother smiled strangely as she slowly pulled me up through the sweaty, dust-laden crevice. She let go and I coughed, my spittle landing tinily on the inoffensive looking toe I had just left. Then, my journey began again.

 

 

 

She tortured me with each great, perfect toe and then once I reached her big toe she captured me with it cruelly, forcing my tiny form into the crevice at the base of her scrunched digit. I was completely engulfed in her flesh and I screamed and screamed. Outside of my prison I could hear her speaking words of encouragement to me. Calmly stating asinine things.

 

 

 

She gathered me up and took the thread off of me, cutting it away with a pair of tiny sewing scissors. Then she held the camera in one hand as she ran me across the monstrous, bulging and smelly pad of each toe. It didn't take long and once she could see it she purposefully badgered it.

 

 

 

Before I could find release she placed me on the toenail of her big toe and lined up the goddamned camera again. She made me jack myself off there. I was like the tiniest of ugly, overused and discarded toys. A raw and red, delicately spindly, ethereal creature. She spoke soothing, ridiculous words of encouragement until I was done. Then I was whisked away, back to the panty drawer.

 

 

 

I wondered what I had done wrong. I thought that we had an agreement, though we had not talked about such a thing. She had seemed so happy as I helped her build the little house. Sure, I tried to escape. But, she put me there. She left me alone.

 

 

 

All I knew was that I was an idiot. This was my mother. I think I had forgotten that. I thought that perhaps Jesse and Steve had lightened my burden of emasculating ridicule and horrific, bizarre body-torture. That was apparently not the case. Now we merely took turns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Was it good? Did you enjoy that?"

 

 

 

"Oh, Linda! You have no idea!"

 

 

 

Linda's nostrils flared and a little, nasty grin flitted across her face.

 

 

 

"Can you explain something to me?"

 

 

 

"Of course, my tiny fairy."

 

 

 

"So, you are aroused by tiny… people? Not just tiny men. But…"

 

 

 

"People. Yes. Delicious, little…"

 

 

 

"Come here. Bring your little finger here."

 

 

 

Linda lowered her upturned pinky in front of the tiny thing. Jesse came to it and ran her fingers down the intaglio-like natural and raised engraving of the fingerprint. Jesse grazed her hand across the rounded form as she stepped on her tip toes into the cold, concave trough of the fingernail. As Linda watched, the tiny nude crawled up on to her fingertip and wrapped her legs around it. She smiled up at Linda as she slaked away the hot, salty oils beneath her gracefully. Then Jesse began to grind.

 

 

 

Linda lowered her eyes to the peculiar, wonderful sight and her pupils dilated ever so slightly as she smiled and held her breath. Oh, that was definitely worth it. Definitely.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6: No Good Deed by V11

 

He watched the blonde woman come up the street. She was fiddling with her phone at first and then put it away into her purse. It was when she came up into the driveway that Frank disengaged the mower deck and drove over to where she stood.

 

 

 

She was gorgeous and embarrassed. The kind of woman you see on vacation while you're visiting the beach. Someone from an overly-hurried television ad for a new kind of bra. Someone who reads your news to you from behind a thick and gigantic sculptural desk. Someone who smiles warmly with a hint of weary anxiousness before the camera zooms in to show off the blazer she's wearing, or the bracelet or ring on her hand.

 

 

 

She had ran out of gas. Her cell phone battery had died. Frank quickly offered to lend her his gas can with the few gallons remaining. He refused the cash. They talked about how beautiful it was out here, away from the city, as they both walked up to the garage.

 

 

 

Frank grabbed a rag and cleaned the gas can's handle off. This was not the sort of woman who would know what to do with gasoline on her hands.

 

 

 

"This is a nice place. A big yard for a family. You're very lucky."

 

 

 

"Thank you. Well, the step-kids enjoyed it, the yard, they're in college now."

 

 

 

"Yeah, isn't that nice? Peace and quiet. Though, I bet your wife misses them. I miss mine. He's away at college, too. He's doing pretty well."

 

 

 

"Well, it's just me here now. But I really like it. Quiet, you know?"

 

 

 

"I hate to impose further on you, but, could I get something to drink? That was a long walk."

 

 

 

"Sure thing! Come on in, I'll get you a glass and some ice."

 

 

 

"Oh, thank you! I really appreciate all of this!"

 

 

 

"No problem! If you want, you can use my phone. Or, if you can take the gas. There is a station not more than five miles from here."

 

 

 

They stepped into Frank's home. Outdated, tacky decorations. Six different fishing hats on pegs. Cracked linoleum and pictures of his children. As Frank prepared her water the blonde woman peered at the pictures. A beautiful dark-haired girl with a little bit of baby fat in her face. So young. Sad looking, dark eyes, but hopeful, as children are.

 

 

 

"Well, here you go-"

 

 

 

The glass shattered and Linda got her shins and shoes wet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was in a moving vehicle. Arms and legs bound. There was something he didn't understand. Besides being sucker-punched or tasered or whatever the hell that had been. Beyond the terrible, shocking surprise of waking up bound and confined in some place dark that smelled of expensive perfume. These things didn't make sense, but they met the reluctant approval of his mind, but there was one thing did not meet it's approval. What exactly was in his mouth? It tasted like a fresh, fleshy cherry, the juice of it had trickled into his hair, tickled his neck with it's cloying and endless fluid. But whatever it was, it was the size of a softball, it was painfully and deeply wedged. It made his jaw hurt. His teeth had stopped against something hard within this fruit. What was that big? Was it something from Asia?

 

 

 

He felt the air move around him and then there was light above him. Yes, a hard knot at the back of his head. Some kind of cloth across his eyes. There was no way to even force his eyes down far enough to see if there was a crack at the top of his cheeks. Frank was blind.

 

 

 

Something pressed against his leg, then it traced up and touched his junk. Frank grunted and struggled uselessly. It felt like someone was running their knee against his crotch. Then, Frank squealed against the heavy, wet fruit as something very warm clamped down on his flaccid cock. Was it gloves? It felt like a catcher's mitt. His cock was pulled painfully away from him as he struggled to roll sideways away from the intrusion. His phantom molester let go after a moment.

 

 

 

Something again, like someone's bare leg, brushing up against his balls. It was like he was being felt up by something covered in rhinoceros or elephant leather. Something strong and forceful. Something that had a lot of leverage. He didn't understand what the hell could feel like that. Frank got the distinct feeling that this was a man. Oh, God. A big, strong, murderous man clad in leather, or coveralls. Frank waited for the kick to his balls. He waited for someone to grab him by the hair and drag him out of this strange smelling cloth prison.

 

 

 

Something cold and smooth ran across his balls. Then his balls were enclosed from each side between the surfaces. Oh, God. It's some… thing. Some… piece of equipment. They were going to cut off his balls! It was metal. Frank had visions of spring-loaded gopher traps, pruning shears, post hole diggers, machetes. He was crying now. Whatever it was pinched his balls and held them, driving the cold, metal or plastic surfaces against the insides of his legs.

 

 

 

"Not long now, Frank. Not long until the fun begins! Are you excited? I'm excited, Frank."

 

 

 

It was that woman. He recognized the voice. She had a strong, feminine voice, a speaking voice.

 

 

 

Then his scrotum was left alone and the light faded with a warm breeze tainted with the hint of perfume and leather.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7: Before They Put Him In The Ground by V11

Automatic garage door started moving outside of the car, muted, lumbering and shuddering upward. Then he was inside of the place, the running engine sounded different. Motor turned off. Garage door shut. A car door opened and then slammed shut loudly. A much louder car door to Frank's left opened. Then he didn't understand. He was rising, his stomach fluttered, and then whatever was surrounding him crumpled in and touched him. Then there was swaying.

 

 

 

Why was there swaying?

 

 

 

He could understand being dumped onto some wheeled gurney. He could understand being dragged across a floor. But, swaying? It wasn't a fireman's carry. Frank was not slung over someone's shoulder. Wherever he was, the whole damned thing was taken away and it was swaying.

 

 

 

There was lots of movement, lots of swaying. Frank could only hear one set of feet pounding away beneath him. Then, the sound of a door opening. There was not an echo. Frank kept expecting to hear an echo for some reason. He kept expecting there to be a warehouse. It had sounded like a normal wooden door inside of a normal house. Then, the cloth pressing against him relaxed and Frank was dropping.

 

 

 

Light again, beyond the blindfold. Then there was something Frank did not want to feel.

 

 

 

He knew he was naked. Trussed up like a pig, gagged with who knows what and blindfolded. But…

 

 

 

Things touched him. They were warm and had that strange texture again, leathery and thick, almost rubbery. They rolled him almost over onto his face as they forced their way beneath him. Individuals. Multiple things. Like legs. There was a smell…

 

 

 

Lavender. Hand lotion. Probably expensive, like the perfume. They felt like…

 

 

 

… just couldn't be…

 

 

 

Frank was cradled in what felt like hot, rubber coated concrete. Concrete in the spring around ten in the morning, radiating all of that heat that it had been absorbing since sunrise. Frank was lifted.

 

 

 

"Aww. You look like a suckling pig, Frank. All pale and tied up, just ready for the fire. You even have a piece of fruit in your mouth! My goodness, it looks like you've really let yourself go, Frankie. That is quite the dad-bod you're sporting there. Well, middle age can do that. Makes you soft, doesn't it? All those beers, all that sitting. I think I'm going to like you Frank."

 

 

 

He was being lowered. Then he lay on a deep and scratchy surface. It smelled dusty, that sharp, indistinct odor of carpet. But this wasn't shag. It rose up around his body, scratching and tickling his balls and his ears. It was tall, like tall grass.

 

 

 

"Let's get that out of your mouth, Frank. I'd like to hear what you think so far."

 

 

 

Frank had the thing ripped from his mouth. His jaw popped as he shut it. Then he was crying out for help.

 

 

 

"Help! Someone help me, please! Oh, God! Please don't hurt me! Look, I don't understand. Help! You've got to-"

 

 

 

For a second he thought he had been punched. But, something had been driven into the left side of his head and as he pulled away from it his head collided against another thing, on the right side. Then, more of the hot rubbery surface, his head was clamped between them and immobilized. What was this? Frank expected to hear the sound of a ratchet. Or, at least to feel something like straps slap across his forehead next. That did not happen.

 

 

 

"No one is coming to help you, Frank. Here in a little bit I'll let you know why. But, this is a lot of fun, keeping you in the dark."

 

 

 

"Oh, please don't hurt me! Please, please, please don't hurt me! I have children! I've never done anything to anyone! You have to-"

 

 

 

Something slid forcefully into his mouth. It forced his tongue down into it's wet, pink depression as the cold, hard thing filled his mouth. Frank was gagging, the corners of his mouth hurt and it continued. The new, horrible gag was tickling his epiglottis and Frank coughed and retched raggedly.

 

 

 

"Really? You've never done anything to anyone? I find that hard to believe, Frank. I also know that you have done things. Bad things, Frank. Really bad things. You know, it's interesting to me that you tell me that you have children and then that you've never done a single bad thing in your life. That is really interesting to me, Frank."

 

 

 

Frank was crying now and he had relaxed, whatever was in his mouth was so strong as to keep his entire body sagging in a sit.

 

 

 

"I know why your wife left you, Frank. Where are all of your friends? They've left you too, haven't they?"

 

 

 

Frank found it better to put the muscles of his back to work supporting his body upright rather than to hang there painfully off of the thing which had buried itself in his mouth.

 

 

 

"Do you like little girls, Frank? Or, was it just because she was your step-daughter? Was it because she was so pretty?"

 

 

 

Frank began to sob. He would take it all back if he could. All of it. He had always wished that you could take it all back. But he couldn't. Now... this was bleak. They weren't going to kill him right away, whoever they were. Frank was going to experience some pain, somehow, before his captors put him in the ground. Did she instigate this? It certainly seemed like it.

 

 

 

"She's beautiful, Frank, isn't she? She was doing so well, too. But now she would like some closure. She wants to tidy up a few things before she turns away from them and embraces her new life."

 

 

 

Frank was heaving with sorrow.

 

 

 

"Do you like little girls, Frank?"

 

 

 

With some amount of pain, the thick, gently curved piece of plastic was removed from his mouth. Frank was panting, his mouth pulled back in a rictus of overwhelming gloom.

 

 

 

"Tell me, Frank. You can tell me. Do you like little girls?"

 

 

 

"I didn't mean to. I had lost my job-"

 

 

 

"No, Frank. You're missing the point. Do you like little girls?"

 

 

 

"Yes."

 

 

 

"I hate to disappoint you, Frank. I'm sorry. I am not a little girl."

 

 

 

Something hard scraped against the side of Frank's head and ripped the blindfold up and off of him.

 

 

 

What he saw did not make any sense. The toes were almost as long as his arms, and larger perhaps than his thighs. Except for the big toes, they seemed larger around than he was. Then, they moved. Frank looked up, past the folded, crouched legs, past the tight, black shirt. He looked up into that woman's face.

 

 

 

Frank was shrieking as she smiled and slowly enclosed his head in a hot and leathery fist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8: Frank, At a Loss by V11

 

Frank was complete a wreck. He couldn't stop sobbing and every time the enormous woman would touch him he would cry out and struggle. What made matters much worse for him was the giant woman's absolutely aberrant reactions to his horror and panic. After each outburst the fifty-foot tall beauty would smile with a burst of pure delight, or giggle ferociously. There was a perverse, girlish innocence radiating from her, but each interaction was carried out with a frightening and calculated might.

 

 

 

Frank quickly learned that his struggles only made things worse for him. There was no comparison in strength even possible. She could snap his limbs like soda straws, suffocate him with one hand, or turn him to jelly beneath one of those awe-inspiring feet.

 

 

 

She had picked up her dirty socks from where they had been tucked into her expensive leather shoes. Frank tried to run and she followed him around the room, her long muscular legs making a mockery of his desperate scrambling. She had cornered him and knelt down threateningly.

 

 

 

"Frank, come on, I just want to make you pretty! I think you'll like it! I know you'll like it! So, you just give me the benefit of the doubt for now, okay? Just trust in me, Frank. It's time for a makeover. You've put it off for way too long!"

 

 

 

She pinned his arms to his sides in one hot and unstoppable fist.

 

 

 

"There, there. It's okay!"

 

 

 

She slid the sock down to his navel and as he struggled she held his legs beneath one of her terrible feet. He fought her, screaming, but she managed to forcibly manipulate him and tie the other sock across his torso, pinning his folded arms tightly.

 

 

 

"Let me just get the cream and the trash bag. I think you're really going to like this!"

 

 

 

Frank struggled to make it to his feet but he was unlucky and she was back and in control of him again before he could do it. She laid him down onto what he assumed was a spread out trash bag. He was pleading to her again but she ignored him, he could hear what sounded like rubber gloves being fought with, being put on. A minute later a cold wetness flooded over his crotch. She whispered comforting things to him, in a tone reserved for little children as she spread the cold, thick substance over his legs.

 

 

 

It stank. Frank recognized it, something his ex-wife had tried one summer with little long-term success. Hair removal cream.

 

 

 

Frank was pinned in place, the dirty, sticky sock was ground into his features. The beautiful woman had pinned him beneath one of her high arched feet.

 

 

 

"Five minutes, Frank. What would you like to do for five minutes? Or, maybe you wouldn't mind just laying here, underneath my foot? I'd like that. Let's do that! I have messages to check on my phone."

 

 

 

When the time was up she hoisted him into the air and carried him somewhere. Frank sobbed as his legs were washed in a torrent of warm water. Then, the socks were removed. She had him in a marble sink. The process began again, but it was worse this time. When Frank tried to struggle the nightmarish mantrap flicked his balls lightly.

 

 

 

Frank ended up curled in the bottom of the wet sink. She had grown tired of struggling with him and she had tied his legs together with one of the wet socks. Then as he had continued to protest she pushed the nail of her little finger slowly into his mouth. Each time he would try something the sadistic bitch would press deeper causing pain and panicked, retching convulsions.

 

 

 

He laid there for five minutes, the unpleasantly dirt-like taste of her fingernail filled his mouth. His head, eyebrows, chest, and armpits itched fiercely from the cream and he could do nothing about it.

 

 

 

The worst part was that because of his struggles, because of what she had to do to restrain him, they were face-to-face as she waited for the cream to remove his hair. This terrified him. He was confronted by a face as tall as he was. But, he also felt like he was intruding upon this woman somehow. Like two people forced into uncomfortable proximity while riding a subway. There were fine, barely visible white hairs which covered her pleasant face in a downy sheen. He forbade himself from staring at her mouth. He did not want to look there and he was frightened of what she might do to him if he stared for too long there. Frank found her eyes to be quite dreadful. They were beautiful.

 

 

 

Frank didn't understand that. On some childish level society assumes, and it instructs that evil people are ugly and beautiful people are good. She was beautiful, innocent looking, even as she overwhelmed him with her gaze. Frank was laid bare in a sort of helpless awe as this huge being shrank him to fit his body's new size with her enigmatic, unwavering and domineering stare. Her stare weakened Frank far more than the terrible thing wedged in his mouth.

 

 

 

She clamped one hand down across his torso and washed the itching cream from him. Then she soaped up her fingers and began actually cleaning him. Frank was squeezed and tugged as the fingerprints scrubbed into him like brushes might. He realized as she washed him just how physically powerless he really was. He never did touch the bottom of the sink and she cleaned every inch of him with a speedy and punishing efficiency.

 

 

 

Frank was cradled in an enormous fluffy white towel as this unwanted and hellish mother-being dried him. Powerful and careful fingers ran over his sensitive, denuded skin as she inspected him.

 

 

 

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it? You're so pretty now! Don't you think you're pretty, Frank?"

 

 

 

She caught his chin with a fingertip and raised his face. She was smiling warmly, her eyes twinkling.

 

 

 

"Aw, don't cry Frank."

 

 

 

The thumb and index finger close lightly around his head as he winced. The thumb stroked down his face, wiping away his tears.

 

 

 

"You're almost ready. I've made you all nice and clean. Nice and smooth."

 

 

 

"Please. Want are you going to do to me? Am I going to die?"

 

 

 

The thumb traced down until it rested on his ribs. The huge blonde woman smiled sympathetically as Frank trembled.

 

 

 

"Well, I don't know everything, Frank. We are all going to die, aren't we? That's a silly question and I don't think you're being fair to me by asking it. Do I look like a biologist to you, Frank? A theologist? Hmm? I just like dolls. I'm very simple. It doesn't take much to make me happy."

 

 

 

"Please. Please tell me."

 

 

 

"You can ask Jesse when you see her. Maybe she has some interesting insights? Trauma can do that, you know. It can open your eyes, make you really see things for what they are."

 

 

 

"Oh, God no! Oh God!"

 

 

 

Linda wrapped her fist around him as he began to scream and thrash. She pressed him into the bottom of the towel and quickly gathered up the edges. She made a loose bag of it, clamping it shut with one tight fist around the gathered material at the top. Linda carefully tied one of the wet socks beneath her clenched hand and made sure the knot was tight. She carefully put him into a shipping box in the corner of her craft room and left him alone there to throw his little fit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve didn't like it. Something had changed. Jesse was being very weird. Steve felt like he no longer had her confidence, something had happened. He acted like nothing was wrong but he was watching her carefully. He could tell that she was waiting for something. She kept picking at things on her arms and legs, an old habit that she exhibited only when she was anxious. There were several times he had caught her staring out over the bland features of the walk-in closet, where the immense doorway was. The beautiful monster's entry point.

 

 

 

It was Linda. It was so obvious to him after what Linda had done while they were having sex. She was trying to get into their heads and fuck with them. She was like a pack of wolves, always looking for a place to exploit, always testing, probing. It wasn't enough for her to have them literally at her fingertips. Linda wanted to break them in the same way that someone wore down a horse or a recalcitrant pet. She either wanted willing toys or despondent toys, Steve had not figured out which yet, or if it even mattered to the colossus. Whatever was going on, Linda had tailor-made it just for Jesse, in the same way that she had designed her ongoing sexual torment and belittlement of Steve.

 

 

 

Was this what Jesse had meant by, "can you blame him," in reference to Mike? Had Linda trained her own son to exhibit a sexual response whenever she was around? Had she started years ago? Was Steve just absolutely full of shit?

 

 

 

They heard her coming, feeling it at first through the shelving which the candy dish sat upon. Then Linda's enormous form surged into the closet and exploded upwards over them, silvery gold and nearly limitless. She was smiling and she looked tired. For once the demon's hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The lid was removed and fingers entered carrying a bottle cap clasped in between them. The cap was sat down, it's top had several small dollops of food adhered to it.

 

 

 

"There you go, Steven, your favorite meatloaf! Do you want me to turn on the baseball game, honey? I want my big, strong breadwinner to relax and have everything he needs while he eats. Steven? Baseball game?"

 

 

 

Steve flipped her off.

 

 

 

Linda herded him with a fingertip over to the pile of cotton. She nudged him with her nail and he was tossed into the middle of it.

 

 

 

"There is no reason to be rude! Maybe I won't wash your laundry tonight after all. Maybe I'll go play cards with my girlfriends. Maybe we'll smoke cigarettes! You just think about that, Steven, think about the depravities you're driving me to."

 

 

 

Linda's fingertip touched Jesse.

 

 

 

"The fairy-girl doesn't get to eat with you tonight, Steven. She needs to clean my toenails. Don't worry, though. I'll smear some of my mother's meatloaf onto one of them. She can lick that off, if she makes the time."

 

 

 

Jesse disappeared between the enormous digits and Steve watched as she flailed her tiny feet while ascending skyward. The lid was replaced and Steve was alone, again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I have a surprise for you, Jesse. But, I have a couple of… requests."

 

 

 

"Okay, umm, okay?"

 

 

 

"You don't kill. Not yet. If you want to later that's your business. But not right now. And… I want to watch. I want the microphone and the camera close by. I want to watch."

 

 

 

"Linda? Did you do what I think you did? Did you-"

 

 

 

"Shh. It's a surprise! Okay. Do you agree? You don't kill and I get to watch?"

 

 

 

"Linda… I know that whatever this is I'm going to be... emotional. This is going to hurt me."

 

 

 

"I know, and that's okay. You and I have an understanding, don't we? Let me in a little bit and maybe… Who knows?"

 

 

 

"Okay... Okay."

 

 

 

"Are you ready?"

 

 

 

Jesse took a deep breath. Linda was absolutely glowing, she had that terrible, mischievous glint that Jesse remembered from the apartment. If she would have only ran when she saw it.

 

 

 

"Alright! Lay it on me, Linda."

 

 

 

Linda thundered over to the computer desk and Jesse watched as the titaness gently took up the end of the blanket she had cut for her. It had been simply tied into a little bag. Linda cupped her other hand beneath it and ever so slowly came over to Jesse, laying it down with bated breath and molasses-slow movement.

 

 

 

Linda whispered, "you should be able to undo the thread. I'm going to turn on the camera. Good luck!"

 

 

 

Linda smiled sweetly and sat down in her chair, punching a button on the laptop.

 

 

 

Jesse fumbled with the thick, stiff thread. She was able to eventually get it to start pulling apart. She untied the knot and wrestled with it, trying to uncoil it from the cloth. Something was moving inside.

 

 

 

Jesse gently laid the blanket down and pulled the corners back. There was a little pale shape, the size of one of her fingers. Jesse knelt and brought her face in closer. One of Linda's hands moved back a small box, making room. It began to scream, a high-pitched almost helium-affected sound. Almost more of a whistling squeal, a squeak-toy. Jesse could see it now, she had laid down and her face was very close. It was turned away from her, staring into space. In the immediate sky overhead one of Linda's hands moved the camera to a different position.

 

 

 

The tiny thing's scream was cut off and it went limp. Not unconscious, just trembling violently. Jesse touched the tiny being with her finger and it flailed, hesitating before turning to look at her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He knew to whom that hand had belonged. Those hands were very distinct. She could now crush the moon in one. He started shaking, the image of being chased like that, the smile on her face as she had herded him, as he tumbled into that place. It had been in his mouth. The thing he had laid in had been in his mouth. Before that, it was something he hadn't even noticed on her as he cleaned off the gas can. How could he have not noticed it? It was huge. Because, it was just a tiny piece of her, not even an important one, not even, really, a permanent piece.

 

 

 

What had she said? When she looked more like a person and not a distant mountain? Something about children? Was that it? No. It was that she wasn't a little girl. Well, of course she wasn't.

 

 

 

Frank wasn't sure if it was proper, if it was okay to call God a girl. She looked more like a woman, but she had big blue eyes, not like…

 

 

 

What had she said? It wasn't about children. Well, then, what was it?

 

 

 

Something touched him. Something huge and very, very warm. But it wasn't her, it wasn't her. She was in the sky, back behind him. He couldn't look. He couldn't look. Who was it? Someone wanted to tell him something and had tapped on his shoulder. He couldn't be impolite. Not with God watching. That might be bad.

 

 

 

Frank turned as he managed a smile. He had to be pleasant. God might be watching.

 

 

 

At first he didn't recognize the face. But those big dark eyes. He knew those big dark eyes. That's what God had said to him. That Jesse was going to tell him about death. She knew something.

 

 

 

The beautiful girl smiled. Oh, how she'd grown!

 

 

 

Frank giggled. She had grown a lot. She was huge! Did Jesse work for God now? Was that why she knew so much about death?

 

 

 

She smirked. He could see it, the corners of her mouth betrayed it. She knew something. Frank earnestly hoped that Jesse could answer his questions. He was a bit confused. God was confusing. This was not how Frank had envisioned God.

 

 

 

The smirk lifted and curled for a second into a snarl before it softened again. Jesse's nostrils fluttered, her eyes were laughing. It was probably because Frank didn't have any clothes on. God took his hair away too. That sort of made sense to Frank. Jesse must be working for God, she still had her beautiful hair. She got to keep it! That was a sure sign. His ex had hoped she would at least be a legal secretary. Here she was, larger-than-life and crouched in front of the throne. Did everyone perceive heaven differently? This certainly looked like a spare bedroom. Where was all of the gold? Oh. It was right there, behind Jesse. The streets were not paved with it after all. God had it.

 

 

 

Frank felt a sense of peace as God smiled down. Jesse touched him again, softly, with a huge finger. He tore his eyes away and focused on her.

 

 

 

"Hi, Frank! Did you miss me?" 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9: Table for Two by V11

"Well, did you?"

 

 

 

The little wretch's eyes were huge. Jessie watched as he checked the sky again. When he turned to her and spoke she realized that there had been a change in him since the last time she had seen this man. What had Linda done to him?

 

 

 

"Jesse! Oh, Jesse Jesse Jesse! Have you seen her? She's everywhere!"

 

 

 

Jesse reached out and wrapped her fingers around him. She slowly got to her feet and brought him up to her face. His tiny arms were splayed out across the beginning of her thumb and index finger. His tiny fingers tickled as they gripped her skin. He felt a lot like a newborn puppy, sans the peach-like fuzz. He was also not nearly as hot as little newborn puppies, they were more like miniature furnaces.

 

 

 

"She came and talked to me! She said her car was broken down! I bet it was a chariot- Oh! I would've liked to have seen it! Then, the most wonderful thing happened, Jesse! She took away my hair! So I could be here with you! That was the price of admission, I think!"

 

 

 

"Linda? I think you made him crazy."

 

 

 

Linda frowned a little bit in shallow concern.

 

 

 

"I didn't do anything."

 

 

 

Frank froze, his tiny fingers clenched into Jesse's hand. He was looking around, his eyes the size of saucers.

 

 

 

"You scared the sense out of him."

 

 

 

Frank reached a tiny arm out towards Jessie's eyes.

 

 

 

"God told me… I have to remember. God told me that you were going to explain death to me."

 

 

 

Jessie looked over her shoulder at Linda.

 

 

 

"Linda… Did you hear that? He thinks you're God."

 

 

 

Linda grinned widely and then a hand fluttered up to her mouth. She tried to suppress a giggle. She clamped the back of her hand over her mouth and shook, tears coming to the corners of her eyes.

 

 

 

"Do you remember what you did to me, Frank?"

 

 

 

Frank thought for a long moment, his tiny face blank and struggling. Then it rushed back into him. The tiny mouth gaped and he stared into the beautiful black eyes.

 

 

 

"No, no no no! We've been over this, Jesse! I told you, like I told your mom, nothing-"

 

 

 

Jesse opened her hand as her other digits rushed up to take part in his confinement. She brought the struggling, tiny, paunchy doll up to her beautiful mouth. As he babbled and began to scream angrily at her, Jesse slid him into her mouth. She lay him on top of the molars on the right side and gently closed, clenching him between her huge molars. A hot little trembling bag of guts and bones. A little bit of soft resistance between her jaws. Little fingers slapping and clawing at her tongue, gentle and frantic motions. The girl with the kitten face now had a mouse.

 

 

 

He was screaming inside of her mouth and Jesse smiled around the tiny shins. She looked up into the camera and she heard Linda gasp. Jesse came up closer to the camera.

 

 

 

"Out of focus… you're out of focus," Linda managed to whisper. Jesse stepped back until Linda nodded her huge beautiful head. Jesse maneuvered him around with her tongue, the tiny legs kicking against her nice, straight teeth.

 

 

 

Jesse glanced sideways to where Linda sat. The colossus had slipped her mammoth fingers down the front of her tights. Jesse smiled and caught the tiny lower legs in her fist. She started to slowly and delicately pump the doll-like, screaming form of her former stepfather through her pursed lips.

 

 

 

She gave Linda the best show she could. Rubbing the tiny, pleading thing across her nipples, tracing down her taut little stomach, reddening his silky skin through her bush. Linda fought to adjust the camera and simultaneously pleasure herself as Jesse knelt down on her knees.

 

 

 

"Frank? Frank? I don't forgive you. I want you to know that. I won't ever forgive you. You took away something from me and I'll never get it back. But, it's okay, Frank. It was a trade-off. You took some of my innocence, Frank, but in return I got strength, some toughness. It wasn't a fair trade, Frank, not at all! But, I'm strong now. I'm all grown up, too. Do you know what else, Frank? I'm a tiny, little doll now. For Linda. You know Linda, Frank? That blonde lady. I'm her little toy now. It can be terrible sometimes. But she doesn't mean it, not really, she can't help herself that she's like that."

 

 

 

Jesse raised Frank up to her face. She kissed him, overwhelming his tiny, sputtering features. Jesse laid him in her hand and pet him, ignoring and overwhelming his tiny punches and kicks.

 

 

 

"It's not terrible all of the time, Frank. Linda is really pretty and she can be nice to me. She does things for me. Sometimes she even gets me things, little presents. She says she loves me, I think she loves me because I'm tiny and pretty, but I'm not sure. Maybe she does really love me? Linda gave me a doll today, my very own doll. Now Linda has her dolls and I have mine. You are my little doll, Frank. You're mine now. My very own little dolly. But, I don't love you."

 

 

 

Jesse lowered him to between her legs and started to insert the little struggling thing. Occasionally there was enough of an opening created from the struggling and Jesse could hear him screaming inside of her.

 

 

 

Linda was sweating. She gritted her teeth as she pleasured herself deeply. Jesse could smell her effort and could smell her. There were two sets of moans, one was deep and resounding, the other seemed to almost answer it sometimes, from the laptop's speakers, from the earpiece. Their moans pushed each other further, an impelling affirmation that was tantalizing. They both climbed that wonderful mountain path alone, yet simultaneously. Sitting next to each other, in two separate worlds, but both of them pleasured themselves with the same focus in their minds.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10: I'm Fragile Steven by V11

 

Steve could hear her thundering ever closer. Sometimes she would pass by the closet, but there seemed to be a point of no return, a defining crescendo where the chaos of enormous footsteps meant only one thing. As Steve began to feel the throb through his feet Linda's form appeared in the monolithic doorway. He sometimes wished she would stay at such a distance where Steve could look upon her as a normal woman, not a collection of enormous parts: eyes, fingers, lips and breasts. But, he knew Linda always wanted to be close. Steve knew that she delighted in their tininess and fed off of their panic and dismay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As Linda gracefully boomed towards him Steve habitually checked her hands. Neither hand was closed in a fist nor were fingers delicately pinched and held carefully, steadily in front of her breasts. Jesse was not with her. Steve could already tell that the monster had been drinking by how she held her face. Linda grinned and took an especially large step before she lightly jumped. The behemoth landed directly in front of the shelf and Steve was knocked to the glass floor by the impact. A small laugh caused the lid to ring musically from the enormous sonic waves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda's colossal face lowered and she smiled coquettishly down on him as he picked himself back up. Writhing fingertips swept across the front of the candy dish as the nails tapped against the glass. The hand flew upwards and then it gently removed the lid. Linda leaned over the opening, a gold stippled tower of forearm touched down elbow first with a quake and she couched her chin in it's distant hand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Jesse doesn't feel good. The tiny little thing thinks she's getting the flu. I didn't think you would want such nasty germs around you, Steven. So I gave the help the night off. It's just you and I, honey."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve stared up at her, the acrid and stale notes of wine almost made his eyes water as her hot breath filled his prison. Linda smiled languidly and an index fingertip traced across the rim of the squat glassware.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Don't be so eager! You know I don't like it when you act so uncouth. I'm a lady, Steven, you have to earn the right touch me. Every time. I'm fragile, Steven, very flighty. It's all of that etiquette training mother insisted upon."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The fingertip must have been pressing harder as it traced the rim. Steve could hear the dense flesh squeal against the glass and the action was sending stuttering jolts into his tiny feet as the glass was vibrated.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda's enormous beautiful face lowered over the opening. Steve do not like the way she was looking at him. Blasts of hot breath from her terrifying nostrils caused the heap of cotton to dance. The beautiful mouth smiled, seemingly so close, but it wasn't. Linda was just absolutely vast.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I'm not one of your Bogart movie starlets out of one of your pulp novels. I don't know why you even read those things. Those women are just trash, Steven, not sexy and definitely not cultivated. I think seduction is a man's purview. Men are supposed to chase women, not the other way around. Things just have to be a certain way, Steven, the right way."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The massive thumb and index finger dipped down over him and came into the candy dish. There was no place to go, Linda's immaculate digits could cover the entire distance within the candy dish with the smallest of movements. However, the colossus enjoyed Steve's tiny attempts to thwart her, the feel of the tiny body brushing against her closing fingers as he scrambled in a wary crouch past her playfully slow mock attempts to catch him. She giggled thunderously as he finally tried to hide in the pile of cotton from her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Where are you going? Hmm? You had better be careful, Steven, there may be baby mice hiding in there. Steven? Steven! Did the baby mice get you? Did one of them roll over onto you?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An enormous index finger skimmed over the wiry, white heap before lowering into the cotton. Linda slowly began to probe through it, feeling for the tiny body.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm going to find you, Steven. Really, what's gotten into you? I never knew that you liked to play games like this. Is that you? Right there? Oh, that was just a tiny tuft of cotton. It was so small and soft, I thought that... Well, never mind that. Where are you hiding, Steven? Little Linda is going to find you!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda's massive digit soon found him and it's unstoppable bulk punished his naked form, gently overwhelming him beneath it as she slowly felt him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm surprised, Steven! I thought for sure you would hide in a much more creative place than underneath the bed."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda's frightening thumb swept down to assist the gentle bully and they closed softly around him. Steve shuddered as the mattress-sized cushions of barely resilient anatomy gently, almost lovingly pressed into him before releasing again. The columns of ridged, glittering flesh were no longer touching him, but were ensconced in the white fluff on each side of him. Steve shivered involuntarily as the blonde goddess smiled down on him from beyond the glass. The dense, slightly tacky boulders closed slowly onto him again and for a moment Steve was in that terrible, crushing hell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Oh my, Steven! You're quite the snuggle-bunny, aren't you? Maybe... maybe tonight will be the night?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve tried to clamber free from between her confining fingertips and she pouted threateningly as he was lightly squeezed again. Then Linda's digits molded around him for a proper handling. Steve was sealed between them, his tiny legs kicking ineffectually as he was lifted out of his hiding place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tiny Steve was lifted free of the candy dish. The vertical terrain of Linda's upper body and long neck rushed past and then he floated in front of her enormous, sexy mouth. The unadorned pink lips pouted for a moment before puckering and blowing a gale of hot, winey breath over his uncomfortably confined form. The mouth spoke in a sultry whisper

as Steve was slowly brought close enough to it he could have reached out and touched her.

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm just so happy that even now, after all this time you find me attractive. What we have is special, Steven. It always has been. It's rare and it's pure." Steve was pressed into the hot, soft flesh of her slightly pursed lips. "Now you just lie down, darling. I've got something special in mind tonight for my handsome, strong beau."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve was gently deposited into Linda's palm and the panic-inducing face lowered over him as he scrambled up, only to be gently chided with a fingernail onto his back once again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Not all the articles in my magazines deal with cleaning and cooking... once in a while... Well, suffice to say I thought it was scandalous at first, but I've read the article six times! It was very instructional, Steven. Very. You should lie down, honey. Just relax."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve's shoulders and head were pinned beneath an imperious, nonchalant fingertip as he kicked and punched. It stayed in place until the weight and heat of it sapped his strength. The fingertip left him, there was a parting sting as his skin tore free of the sticky embrace of scant sweat and oils concealed between the ridges. Linda's face came down lower until it grew dark around him, until Steve fretted that she was going to crush him against those glorious lips. The mouth smiled slowly and the tip of Linda's monstous tongue slid across the edge of her upper lip, a pink, rounded shark's fin breaking the pillowed, vast surface directly above him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You love my mouth," she whispered deafeningly into his naked skin, "don't you, Steven? Show me. Show me how you'd pump that cock into my wonderful mouth."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda's vast face pulled away far enough that her shining blue eyes could take in his tiny form surrounded by the grove of her gently curled fingers. Her mouth was putting on a graceful, slow-motion show for him, striking each archetype in the iconic, erotic repertoire of femininity. Steve sat blinking, stunned for a moment before taking up his member into his own hand and stroking it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You want to fuck my mouth, don't you? Oh, yes, I like that! Get closer, pump that cock, Steven! Get it closer! Mmm!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The hush, sulkily unashamed words covered Steve in the divine, heavy fragrance of Linda's immense, internal biology. The scent of that colossal, hot, soft and wet flesh-lined antechamber hidden tauntingly just beyond the gorgeous lips.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"That's it! That's it, Steven! I want you to spew your load all over my face. I want you to get it in my hair as I nibble on your delicious shaft. Mmmm."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The lips pulled back and Linda's monolithic teeth nibbled at the air before being plunged into a lip-biting pout. Steve flopped backwards onto the ever-shifting creases of the immense palm and he grimaced as his hand doubled it's intent and speed. Steve's back arched as his eyes shut for a moment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As Steve cried out with satisfaction his forearm, hand and cock were trapped in a gigantic hard, glassy vice. He spasmed as his eyes shot open in surprise. His vision was filled with the colossal and gently convex, purple lacquered scutes pressed against his tiny form from above. Linda had delicately taken hold of his tiny cock in an adept pinch of her fingernails. Steve wailed as he struggled to free his arm, beating his free fist on the closest nail pressed against him. Linda deafened him with a throaty giggle as she kept his penis and arm hostage. The colossus was intentionally keeping him from ejaculating.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"No sir! Did you forget, Steven? I'm a good girl, remember? We're just not ready for our first child! You still need to win that promotion, we need to find a bigger home... You even said my mother could move in first. Goodness sakes, it's just not time yet, Steven."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve kicked and fought her, pounding with his free hand as his face pressed in effort against the huge opalescent purple structure. His tiny body wriggled like a hooked worm and above him Linda was mockingly stern, taking it all in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Lindaaa! You're hurting me! You're going to... You're... Please, just... Linda!?? Aaah!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I want to do this right, Steven! Don't you? Hmm?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve was bawling, slobbering on the merciless and indestructable bit of feminine frivolousness that dominated the most vulnerable part of his now limitless frailty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I want to do it right, I want to do it right I want to... Lllindaaa!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Well, I forgive you, Steven. You just got carried away. We just got carried away."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The beautiful digits let go of Steve's tiny crotch and his cork popped, strands of his cum were flung onto the immense being. Steve's semen was explosive but meager, partially halted by his surprised and frightened body.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Please don't leave yet Steven. Please... just stay here with me a little longer. I want to snuggle after that, don't you?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The glistening fingertips dropped down on each side of him, indenting the dense flesh of her palm. As Steve screamed hoarsely Linda's huge thumbnail and index fingernail's undersides scooped up most of his tiny body between them. She was smiling sweetly as her nails closed, locking his tiny, quivering limbs into immobility in a sidelong triangle of mammoth flesh and steely keratin. Steve's tiny head and shoulders were free of the titanic digits. He thrashed as he groaned, the blood of his compressed body heating and reddening his tiny face until it itched fiercely.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Mmm. That's nice, Steven. Like two peas in a pod. You're so good to me."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve was airborn and Linda's other hand transformed as it rose to float parallel in front of him. The mammoth pads of her other thumb and index finger overwhelmed him and his tiny bones groaned as he was transferred to their crushing, stifling care. He was taken upwards past stories of beautiful face until he hung twitching in front of one alarming blue eye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Oh, I'm so fragile after... that, Steven, after our... lovemaking," Linda whispered sultrily, "Oh! Your big, strong arms make me feel like a little girl. Hold me, Steven. You fluster me so. I think I'm trembling! Do you feel it, Steven? You have to be gentle with me right now, darling. Just hold me."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The thick, steamy pads of Linda's mighty fingertips softly ground sideways against each other, rolling Steve's tiny body like a scrap of dough between them. Steve cried out in pain as his tiny rib cage flexed, his fragile arms were driven harshly into his own torso as his shoulder sockets threatened to collapse. But the worst part was Linda's immense and inescapable face looming just beyond Steve's torture. She was unfazed, casual, even cheerful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You'll always take care of me, won't you, Steven? I would be helpless without you."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda continued to roll him gently between her fingertips as she pouted coquettishly. He was moaning and begging the relaxed, amused face whenever his tiny head was briefly exposed out of the encompassing, undulating crevice of her dainty grip. Linda smiled, a mock look of doe-eyed, youthful bliss beamed hopefully at the tiny thing she tormented.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Oh, my big, strong man! When you hold me like this everything seems right with the world!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda stopped assaulting the tiny form and she beamed happily down at the tiny head drooping from her pinch. Steve was panting, mouth gasping. Suddenly his head rocked upwards and Steve sprayed vomit out past the vast index fingertip's ridged bulk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda pondered the tiny spray of vomit, she seemed pleased with herself, "Steven! Have you been sneaking sips out of that silver flask you claim you don't even own anymore? No wonder you're so romantic tonight! Well, I might just be a housewife- your loving and devoted housewife- but I am not stupid! I know what you get to down in the basement sometimes! Sneaking off to have a drink! For shame!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda tilted her hand and a thin, dark smile crossed her face as Steve sagged. His tiny skull become even more wedged in the well-hydrated crevice of her flesh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Well, I forgive you Steven, again. How could I ever stay angry at you? You're my protector, my brave lover! Let me help you to the bathroom so we can just clean that off. Just lean on me, honey. Oof! Goodness, you are heavy! Well, just what did I expect with that broad chest and those nice muscles? I suppose that's a silly question, isn't it? I'll tell you what I expect, some handsome, healthy children!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda smiled and dipped her hand back down into the candy dish. The beautiful fingertips gently released Steve onto the makeshift blanket spread out over the cotton. Linda's cruel index fingertip kept him company, the long purple fingernail softly pressed into him with it's cold, massive edge as she spoke. Steve was groaning and slowly pulled his arms and legs in close to himself. The massive beauty smiled and the pad of her fingertip dominated the tightly curled young man beneath it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I think we should stay in tonight. It's been so long since we've spent time with each other. Let's recover properly and then do something special! I think I want to freshen up a bit after our romp in the sack. I want to be pretty for you, Steven, all night long. Maybe it's the endophins, but... well, I feel just so incredibly lucky to have you!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda retracted her finger from the candy dish and reached into her back pocket, retrieving something. Steve watched as she slid the long cap from the thing and inverted it, poising it in the opening over him. He weakly raised an arm and shook it in a feeble, protesting dissent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"No, Linda. Liiinnndaaa! Oh, God, no. Please, Linda, please don't…"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hmm. I've got a wonderful idea! Let's play another game, Steven! You can help me freshen up! Oh, don't give me such a face! I played you're game of hide and seek, so you can indulge me now, just a little bit! Now, I know full well you've never touched such a thing. But I think it will be fun, educational. You can see what I have to do everyday to make myself presentable for you. Oh, don't worry, it's just like those black smudges your favorite quarterback puts on his face, honey, it's nothing complicated. You'll help me, won't you, my big, strong man? You're not afraid of your little Linda's female accoutrements, are you? Oh, Steven, really? You're just so adventurous and kind! So fun loving! Well, in a dignified, manly sort of way."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda brought the huge object to bear, lowering it slowly over his tiny, curled form. The angled, waxen column of crimson pigment touched down onto Steve. He was moaning in objection and then Linda began to drive him down into the cotton with it. When she felt resistance Linda carefully held there for a moment. Steve had the air crushed from him as his diminutive form sunk into the warm pillar.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda slowly raised it up and brought Steve up close to one huge blue eye, checking to make sure he was fine. Linda shook as she stifled a giggle, the sight of him was just too much. She cupped a palm beneath the lipstick and began to softly make her way to her bathroom mirror.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was screaming, assaulted by yards of firm muscle. The air was crushed from him and then he was buried in Linda's lower lip again. His tiny arms trailed behind him in the fleshy wake of the gigantic stroke. Then he was hovering in front of the beautiful mouth as it pouted and erupted in a crown shaped, slow-motion kiss. Then again, buried and screaming against the beautiful mouth of the goddess.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda was terrible and awe-inspiring. Her face was a vertical landscape, covered in a sheen of oil and silvery down. This seemed as bad as being a trinket for her tyrannical fingers. This was almost as bad, in its own way, as being plastered to the oppressively hot walls of her pussy. Steve felt even smaller here somehow, just an inconsequential bump on her lipstick as she silently studied him between being forced against her soft lips.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You're doing a good job, Steven. I'm actually surprised. Who would have thought that my beau would have some artistic talent? Well, you had best not spread it around at the office, hmm? Those cigar-chompers would bully my poor, gallant man. No sir. You had best keep your talent to yourself, mister!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She took her time. It was ten minutes before Linda was done humiliating him. She laid the lipstick down on the counter as she primped. Steve lay there like some tormented soul in a Hieronymus Bosch painting, but his prison was a monumental lipstick, and his torment an ordinary woman. Only the barest outlines of his tiny, impressed form were visible in the misshapen waxy tip. His tiny, pink-rimmed eyes blinked from the shining red surface and the little mouth panted, just a tiny aperture, a single Swiss cheese hole punctuating the center of the enormous pillar. Freeing himself was an impossibility and Steve was forced to be content in mutely observing the enormous form towering up over the marble counter top.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda filled the sink and gently picked up Steve's sticky trap.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Oh my! I think you got some lipstick on you, Steven! No, honey, just a little bit. Now, there's no need to make such a disgusted face. Let me take care of that for you!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The huge purple fingernails carefully dug him out of the dense material. Her fingertips scrubbed him carefully. It was quite a while before Steve was clean. Linda dried him off with a tissue. Steve was completely exhausted and Linda gently laid him down on the vast marble plain next to the sink. The colossus lowered her face and gently blew on him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Thank you for helping me, Steven. You are so wonderful to me! I don't know what I did to deserve you. I never knew I could be so happy. You just let me know if I can get you some cocoa or your robe, okay honey?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve weakly rolled over and stared at her for a long moment. She was so satisfied with herself, so smug and confident. He raised one wobbling arm and flipped her off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda grinned widely. A pretty hand rose above the edge of the counter and descended onto him. She pinched him up and rose up to her full height. Steve was brought to her face and she leaned in until she was close to the mirror. Linda's pinky fingertip of her other hand stroked one of his tiny dangling legs as he hung in front of her mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Look at those tiny, dangling things. I can't decide. Are you a bug, Steven? Are you a doll? You're so skinny, you know that? I know what you are! I know exactly what you are!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve was brought down in front of her mouth and the red lips slid back, revealing her perfect teeth. Linda pressed him against one of her front teeth. He was limp as the demoness ran his tiny chest and face against the curved, slick enamel of a single, huge front tooth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The beautiful demon cooed as Steve was pulled away from her teeth, "this should be heaven for you, right, little bug? You get to experience even more of my sexy mouth! More than anyone else ever will, that's for sure. Let's put that tiny body to work, shall we?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda cleaned her teeth with Steve. She investigating her gums, sliding the tiny body against their slick warmth. She forced the tiny face into the top arched spaces between the huge pearly objects and ran the tiny groaning head in the cracks between her front teeth. Her punishing fingertips passed him between them, rotating him until his tiny legs were exposed. She put the dangling little things to work as toothpicks, ever so careful to not break or catch a tiny foot as she probed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda was completely quiet, and it was even worse because of it. Steve was well past the ability to fight back. Steve tired of gazing upon her frightening face in the mirror as she occasionally grimaced to examine her perfect teeth. He clamped shut his eyes and concentrating on breathing in the dense and punishing vice of ridged flesh as his legs were slowly assaulted against and between the wet ivory boulders.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda's mouth opened wide and Steve was thrust into the shadowy cave past the straight, perfect rows of teeth. The oppressive fingertips parted and he slid from them. Steve crashed limply to the thick, beveled crowns of Linda's lower molars. He could only lay there and weakly wail in protest as the light was cut off. A moment later the terrifying edges of Linda's upper molars pressed into his flesh. His tiny skeleton was forcibly conformed to the crenellations and valleys of her massive molars. A vast, pebbly tongue pressed against his trembling, trapped form and Steve could feel the entire mouth quake in mirth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eventually Linda lowered Steve to the counter top and pushed him off of the fingertip he had adhered to with a thumbnail, depositing him like a bit of trash. Steve tried to raise his head, but her saliva had mounted him, glued down like a specimen to the cold surface. The beautiful face floated in to where Steve could see her. She was staring at him, a cold and enigmatic countenance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What's wrong, Steven? Don't you like being my toothpick? I think you make a good toothpick. But, to be honest with you, well, Jesse is the only one out of you three that puts up a good fight. Think about that. Outclassed by a girl. Two girls, really. One has you right where she wants you. Go ahead, Steven, show me some spunk."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda's thumb softly pressed down on him, until only his tiny head was visible. Linda smiled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You're a little piece of shit, you know that? All blustery. Just a teeny-tiny loudmouth."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda raised her thumb, Steve looked like a crucified Roman prisoner, plastered face up to Linda's expansive feminine digit. She scraped him off onto the counter's top with a smirk. He was truly and completely exhausted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The titaness' face came closer until all Steve could see was her mouth. A glob of spit was pushed out from her lips and she dropped it in front of him. An index finger rolled him gently into it and the colossus played with him there. His tiny, slack form was repeatedly adhered to her giant pretty fingertips. Linda was very close and silent as she slowly passed him between them, occasionally wiping him back to the spittle. Linda would only pause in her idle play to clear a viscous cowl of spit from his face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eventually she cleaned him off again and Steve slipped into unconsciousness as Linda laid him into one of her palms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda closed her fist around Steve. She brought her mouth down to her fingers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm going to break you," she whispered.

 

 

 

Chapter 11: Bug Town by V11

 

When Steve finally woke he had no idea where he was. He must be in the candy dish, he thought, as he pushed away the springy cotton fluff. He was not in the candy dish. Steve found himself surrounded on all sides by a transparent plastic shell. It was two halves, press fit together. Just like the plastic bubbles spit out by novelty machines in grocery stores when he was a child. That was it. That was where Steve was, inside of something that used to hold a plastic ring adorned with a fake spider, something that held a miniature and terrible quality skateboard. Something for throw-away Taiwanese and Chinese novelties.

 

 

 

He was on Linda's bedside table. Stretched out before him was the expansive plain of her bed. The sheets were crumpled and stuck out like jagged hills. Beyond the thick shell Steve could pick up sounds if he strained. She was already awake and he finally realized that she was brushing her teeth.

 

 

 

Steve could see that there was nothing underneath the plastic shell. He knew better than to move around too much. The last thing Steve wanted to do was die inside of a novelty toy bubble in a roll and plummet from an end table. His shoulders were still sore and his ribs hurt from where the colossus had "caressed" him between her fingertips. The mere thought of what she had done to him, of everything she had done to him on the bathroom counter frightened Steve deeply. It took no effort on her behalf. The more Steve thought about it the more he realized that it took her much more effort and care to not kill or maim his tiny body in her casual acts.

 

 

 

Steve had taken karate as a child, he had owned several dirt bikes, he knew how to hunt and how far to push a bottle-rocket fight. Steve had been a boy's boy, living in the country, catching frogs and picking ticks off of himself and his dog. Steve had adventures and scars with interesting stories attached to them. He had broken several bones over the course of his childhood and teenage years. In this way Steve was no fool, or perhaps from a different, more aseptic perspective an immense fool. He knew what his own blood looked like, and he often knew the moment before catastrophic failure that what he was attempting to do was patently stupid.

 

 

 

Steve knew that Linda could have just squeezed ever so slightly. She could have wedged a tiny leg in between her pretty teeth and moved her fingertips one centimeter sideways. She could have placed him face down into her spit and merely rested one fingertip on his tiny form as she hummed a little song. But she didn't do any of these things. She wanted to break him somehow, or train him somehow. She wanted him alive for some reason.

 

 

 

Because what good were toys if you just broke them five minutes after you had started to enjoy them? Could Steve use this? How could-

 

 

 

There were footsteps. Then, Linda came out of the bathroom door. Good God, she was beautiful, thought Steve, as the naked skyscraper-sized blonde thundered towards him. Steve slowly laid back down in the white fluff and closed his eyes to slits. There were tan walls suddenly, composed of Linda's thighs which blotted out everything. Above them was the brassy shine of her bush, then further up was the expanse of trim stomach and ribs. Steve wondered what kind of bathing suits Linda owned. Probably expensive ones, black and classy little two piece numbers to contrast with her platinum hair. For a moment he imagined her locked inside of an iron framework with tiny workers fitting her into her immense bikini pieces.

 

 

 

Steve smiled, when he was young he had seen the Statue of Liberty. He had also seen the renovations on television several times. He had even been to the museum and had seen mockups of a few of her pieces. Linda was more than twice the size of that serious looking and strangely dressed statue. There was little comparison. Steve recalled that the sculptor had used his own mother as the inspiration for the statue. Perhaps Mike would appreciate that, or perhaps it would be Linda who would be pleased by that fact. Steve was not entirely sure that Mike was much more than one more of Linda's victims.

 

 

 

Linda's beautiful face floated over his confinement as she checked on him. Then she turned and thundered away to her dresser. Steve sat up and watched her. She slowly and carefully slid out the top drawer. Steve could hear her speaking, she was bent low, her face directly over the drawer. That must be where she kept Mike, he thought. Then Linda reached inside and took a pair of panties out. She was keeping her son in her panty drawer? Mike's prison consisted of an area large enough to build a submarine which held stacks of his own mother's silk panties!? Poor little bastard, thought Steve as he imagined his roommate curled up on an impressively huge crotch of pink silk.

 

 

 

The colossus dressed in front of Steve. He couldn't help it, he was hard, she had stayed far enough away long enough that Steve could appreciate her. Little tight black shorts and a tiny white top. Steve couldn't remember how tall she had been when he had first invited her into the apartment. She couldn't have been taller than him. She didn't look that tall. Steve guessed that she was five foot seven inches or so. He just couldn't remember. Being slipped into her crotch while an inch tall fifteen minutes after that overwrote such trivial things.

 

 

 

Then the graceful colossus moved away and out of the bedroom. Steve looked around him, he wasn't happy about this. Why didn't she just leave him in the candy dish? Was Jesse there? Was Jesse really sick? Steve passed the time in the only way he could, using the only resources at hand to keep himself occupied. He masturbated about Linda, about watching her dress. Tit for tat, he thought, the sexy monster had pleasured herself using him as a terrified and captive stimulant. Fuck her, he thought, this is what Linda's attempts at breaking him had amounted to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"But, I've told you, I don't work for God. You're so stupid! You're tiny, Frank! You are smaller than a piece of rice! I'm only an inch tall, Frank, and you're so much smaller than I am."

 

 

 

The little naked man in her hand paused from pushing at her immobilizing thumb, stunned. Frank's little face went blank as he tried to work out her words. Jesse thought he looked like watching a dog trying to do math. Just a blank void. There wasn't even failure there. He wasn't even able to pick up the pieces of her concept and try to fit them together logically. Just totally blank. Linda had accidentally made him crazy. Perhaps being so tiny meant that the human mind didn't have enough space, enough “horsepower” to work? Perhaps it couldn't exhibit itself in it's full dynamism anymore at such an infinitesimal size?

 

 

 

But, at an inch tall, Jesse felt like herself, everything, everything was just like it had been before Mike's beautiful mother had interrupted Jesse and Steve's lovemaking. That was another world, thought Jesse, the place where she had been raised, which she had belonged. She felt homesick and it hurt deeply. Home wasn't merely a distant place that was unreachable. Linda had done something much more terrible than simply move Jesse through space, through distance. Linda had moved Jesse through scale. Her ex-stepfather was right, in a way, Linda was some sort of a goddess, perhaps in several ways, but not the Deity that Frank had insisted upon. Frank's button-sized face grew determined and Jesse ignored the tight knot in her stomach to turn and frown at the fish-stick sized doll laying across her palm.

 

 

 

"No, Jesse! That was God! She looks just like an angel, just like one! Exactly! Except so much bigger! Now I know why the Angels are always blonde! I never did understand that before. I mean, in the Middle East-"

 

 

 

"Shut up! It's just Linda! Her name is Linda Johnson, not God, you little dildo! I'm only an inch tall to her, so you, naturally, are very very small compared to-"

 

 

 

Frank grew red in the face and began slapping Jesse's thumb.

 

 

 

"No, you're not! You're not tiny, Jesse! You're enormous! Remember that radio tower just outside of town? Your as tall as that, Jesse! God made you magnificent so you could do Her work! Stop squeezing me! You need to listen to me or you'll make God angry!"

 

 

 

Jesse pressed the little flustered doll into her crotch. She kept him there, the palm of her hand laid over him to keep him in place. Jesse loved how he kicked, although sometimes it was not entirely erotic. Frank was just large enough to annoy her occasionally with a well-placed punch or kick. He was screaming bloody hell and Jesse snickered heartlessly.

 

 

 

She could hear the footsteps of Linda approaching. Jesse pulled Frank from her crotch and held him up to her face. She wiped her sweat off of his tiny bald head as she spoke.

 

 

 

"Do you want to see God again, daddy? I'll show you your God, up real close. I know just how to push her buttons. Let's see if she takes the bait, hmm? She has such sensitive skin. Such sensitive fingers. Such beautiful fingers."

 

 

 

Jesse knelt down on her knees on the bottom of the candy dish and slowly worked Frank up inside of her as he roared. Jesse had to hurry and hurt Frank a little bit, forcing him into her before he was lined up correctly, but she quickly found the way. Then she stood back up, one hand protectively pressed between her legs. She could really hold him there, if she tried. Jesse tightened her muscles against him further and heard a pleading whimper that ended raggedly. Jesse would have to try not to suffocate him, it could be a delicate balance, perhaps. But the payoff would be worth it. Linda was in the closet's doorway, and Jesse fought to not tremble at her approach as she wore Frank down in a hot squeeze of her vaginal walls. She didn't want Linda to know he was there in, in case the beautiful monster decided to use the microphone. Frank must be too tired to cry out.

 

 

 

There was a wall in front of the candy dish suddenly, it was a lacy cotton shirt spread over a flat tummy. The golden wreathed head lowered and the lid of the candy dish was removed slowly. Linda smiled and her breath was overpoweringly minty with fresh toothpaste. Jesse's eyes threatened to water from the exhalations.

 

 

 

"Good morning, Jesse!" Linda whispered, "how are you and your tiny toy? Excuse me, sorry, but I need to change these."

 

 

 

The beautiful thumb and index finger slowly lowered down into the transparent room. Linda removed the bottle caps and replaced them with fresh counterparts. As soon as the fingertips were done making the exchange they hovered there for a moment. It was Linda's typical behavior. The beautiful colossus was always strongly tempted to touch them and she often fought to override her instincts. This resulted in little moments of inactivity just like this, where the vast digits hung or rested without input as the skyscraper-sized blonde vacillated.

 

 

 

Jesse slipped herself between the intimidating pads and wrapped her tiny arms as widely as they would go across the huge bulge of the thumb. She began to kiss in an overwrought pantomime, motions large enough that Linda's ridged flesh could work it out and pass it along the vast neural network to the house-sized brain.

 

 

 

Jesse heard Linda's breath catch in her throat. The face lowered and she smiled sweetly from beyond the circular rim of the candy dish.

 

 

 

"Oh my! Someone seems happy to see me today! You must really like your present!"

 

 

 

The thumb and index finger closed slightly until they were barely touching Jesse, surrounding her in a profound warmth.

 

 

 

"You're welcome! I had better make the rest of my rounds."

 

 

 

Jesse began to nibble at the thumbprint's swirling ridges.

 

 

 

"Oh, God, Jesse! Come on, not right now, I've got to-"

 

 

 

Jesse turned in place and bit down as hard as she could into the index finger's print. The beautiful fingertips closed a bit more around Jesse and the mighty thumb caressed her back with great care. Jesse couldn't help it, at an inch tall these digits and the gargantuan, beautiful toes were truly the main signifiers of Linda. To Jesse and perhaps the rest of them, Linda's face was only secondarily her identity. It was completely proper and right, Linda herself would probably be pleased. The colossus explored and dominated with these parts of her, she pampered these parts of her obsessively, and she was aroused through and aroused others with these parts.

 

 

 

As Jesse watched the enormous face lowered until it was the only vista beyond the candy dish. Jesse nibbled again as she squeezed her tiny arms, her eyes thrown to the side and steadily gazing into the vast face. Jesse smiled to herself confidently, as Linda's upper teeth captured her lower lip in a squeeze. Jesse laughed under her breath, she had her. Strange how these colossal, flawless monsters that Linda employed to pin and stroke and squeeze could be used against her. Jesse was the one pinning Linda now, stroking her as the tiny girl had her cornered. Jesse squeezed, and pulled herself upwards until she could wrap her tiny legs partially around the fingertip. Jesse looked outwards at the sunny face and squeezed again with all of her might.

 

 

 

Jesse watched color flood into the cheeks and the high cheekbones began to blaze with a glow as the enormous pupils dilated slightly. Jesse had her, right where she wanted her.

 

 

 

"Take me out. Take me out of here you beautiful, gigantic bitch. Go on."

 

 

 

Linda let out an enormous, low giggle which vibrated the candy dish. The face grew larger until the enormous blue eyes were everything that Jesse could see beyond the ledge of the shelf. Jesse squeezed again with her legs and pressed as hard as she could with her neck muscles, driving her cheek across the swirled corrugations of the resilient pillar she clung to. She could feel the deep and powerful pulse driving into her skull and it was strangely nice, making Jesse feel sleepy with it's powerful, throbbing chug.

 

 

 

"Don't you want to play? Aren't I pretty? Play with me. Don't my pretty legs feel good? Don't you want to capture them? Don't you want to squeeze them? I'm so tiny, aren't I, Linda?"

 

 

 

"What are you saying? Are you thanking me? Oh, God, Jesse! Stop that! Don't do that!"

 

 

 

Jesse squeezed again with everything she had and she nibbled, ignoring the thin sheen of salty oils which coated her cheeks and nose. It was usually very much like kissing or biting a paper towel which had soaked up grease from beneath a batch of homemade french fries most of the time. But Linda had just showered, and this morning, temporarily, the scant coating was scented with lavender and sage from the leviathan's expensive body wash.

 

 

 

"Goddammit! Goddammit Jesse!"

 

 

 

There was a shuddering intake of air and Jesse smiled as she detected the slight tremor which palsied through the enormous neck which held the intensely blue eyes steady. Linda's sex had sent it's overriding signal up through the impossibly huge body. The pupils grew even larger, blossoming out into full-blown lust, or love, that signal from the black circular windows was the same.

 

 

 

"Good girl! You're a good girl, aren't you, Linda? Come on now, capture me. I'm right here. Take me out, don't you want to touch me? Aren't I beautiful? Don't I feel marvelous? Oh, you're such a good girl, Linda. That's it!"

 

 

 

The face rolled upwards slowly and as it did so the beautiful nose was flared. Jesse could hear the hot gale whistle against the outside of the candy dish as it was expelled from the flared nostrils. The vast pretty mouth was open, the teeth were set against each other in tension. Frank whimpered and Jesse fought to relax her muscles a bit. She had grown aroused as well.

 

 

 

The pad of the enormous thumb pressed into her from behind and Jesse was entirely trapped between Linda's fingers. There was an upward motion and Jesse was laughing, her exhalation was trapped as a hot air pocket around her own face. She saved a bit of air for herself. She had to, Linda had her trapped entirely.

 

 

 

The powerful digits parted slowly and Jesse slid downwards through the ridged crevice to land on skin of another texture. The fingertips were gone. Jesse lay upon the immense palm, large enough to accommodate perhaps five cars or more on top of it's rolling, seamed landscape. Linda was above her, the silvery gold hair a silky, waterfall-like hybrid seemingly of metal and crystalline filaments fused together into an incandescent alloy. Honey wine strands shot through with equal parts burnished silver and sunlight. Her face was flushed and her mouth was victimized by the hungry lust. Jesse smiled and threw her tiny arms above her head as she arched her back.

 

 

 

"Well, good morning to you, Jesse!"

 

 

 

Jesse ran her hands down her tummy and worked them into her crotch. As the goddess watched, Jesse slowly tugged Frank free, keeping him hidden beneath a palm. She studied the angle for a moment between herself and the vast blue eyes which drank her in from the sky overhead.

 

 

 

A sleight-of-hand. Linda was just too big to notice. Jesse could even be a bit sloppy from this distance. But, she chose to commit fully. Linda could never be underestimated.

 

 

 

Jesse ran her hands down her thighs, only her left hand was touching the inside of her leg, her right hand mirrored it, yet Frank was held just above her pale skin. Jesse circled the tops of her kneecaps to the outside and gently placed Frank into the crevice at the back of her knee. She closed the soft flesh down onto him by bringing her ankles closer to her own tiny hips slightly. Jesse let go as Frank whimpered.

 

 

 

"Jesse! Oh, please don't! No! I don't want to-"

 

 

 

She held him there, he twitched, feathery and soft against the back of her knee. She had worn him down sufficiently. The tiny thing had no fight left after Jesse's squeeze session. She ran her hands back up and brought them up to her breasts. Jesse played with her nipples as the immense face lowered.

 

 

 

"Your such a pretty girl, aren't you?"

 

 

 

The words were soft, but Jesse loved the tingling across her skin. The vibrations were trapped and stronger in the dead ends of her body's crevices. Her armpits almost stung and her clitoris grew hard as it was buffeted by Linda's low, thick whisper. Linda smiled, an easy, slow gentleness, directly over the top of her.

 

 

 

The other beautiful hand rose above the edge of the palm. The thumb and index finger unfolded and slowly made their way to Jesse. She was utterly dwarfed by them, but she knew well enough to trust in Linda's practiced movements. Linda would not crush her. What would it be today? What had Linda decided to fixate on, which aspect of the tiny banquet would she sample? Or would it be all of her at once?

 

 

 

"Such beautiful little legs! I love your legs, Jesse. They're so nice! So thick and strong, well, you know what I mean. I'll be careful, I promise."

 

 

 

Jesse stretched out her left leg, presenting it to the monumental fingertips. Linda's purple fingernails came on, she was leading with them. Jesse's tiny left leg was ignored, sliding over the top curve of the index fingernail. Linda giggled as she took hold of Jesse's right leg at the thigh gently between her nail tips.

 

 

 

"So tiny! Oh, God, it turns me on so much sometimes. You must think I'm so strange. I have your leg. I have your beautiful, tiny leg."

 

 

 

Linda's breathing had changed to something smoother but more consciously metered. Beyond the enormous fingertips Jesse could see her. Linda almost looked like she was in distress, as if she was about to burst into tears. Her eyebrows lent that assumption. But, it was a profoundly erotic event that Linda was savoring, edging around and sampling with great care. Jesse knew that Linda was teetering on the edge of something. Something that might end up injuring Jesse if Linda were to give in just now, while in such a precarious position.

 

 

 

Jesse's experience was perhaps an inversion of Linda's own. The shapely, well hydrated and gorgeous fingertips were outlandishly huge. They were just right there, right beyond her tiny form. Frank was right. This was like being touched by God. There was a distal concentration, a string of monstrous causality. Linda's enormous head, bent low and everywhere Jesse could see, was the bolstering base, a plainly mighty backdrop. The hand itself, knuckles like a perfected form of elephant's knees was an outcropping of the distant face. The long fingers, the diameter of oil pipeline parts were studded with tiny, white and transparently crystalline hairs along their golden topsides. These immense pieces of Linda were an outcropping, yet again, of the enormous, static hand. But Jesse was smaller than that. All of these things could crush her into a paste with the barest minimum of motion. For the caress, what was required was the last offshoot of Linda's enormity. The long, gently curving and flawless purple nails held the tiny leg so carefully, themselves a smaller, anchored expression. The last piece of Linda's monstrously inescapable but gentle touch.

 

 

 

This was an IMAX experience. This was, whether Linda meant it or not, an intense expression of her size, or Jesse's size, pick one. It was a chained series of relationships between enormous panic-inducing anatomy, from a twenty-thousand ton, four-hundred-ten foot tall woman to a gentle, capturing touch surrounding a pale and beautiful thigh. A bridge between the two disparate worlds which could be mapped in a glance, but that glance would easily drive most people into long-term hysterics.

 

 

 

Linda knew this. Linda was always aware of this, of this strangely erotic math.

 

 

 

The bulky fingertips moved ever so slightly beyond Jesse. The fingernails slid slowly down the tiny leg. Jesse's eyes grew wide and she pulled her hands off of her crotch.

 

 

 

"Shit! Frank! Frank? Daddy?"

 

 

 

"You little bitch! Your nasty fucking slime has me glued to you! You little bitch! Oh God! What is that!!? Jesse! Help me!"

 

 

 

There was a shriek, and again. Frank was calling to her. The primitive and automated override of instincts had kicked in and he was crying out in a repetitive shriek of fear.

 

 

 

"Such a tiny foot! I never have looked at your feet! I didn't realize that until now. I want to see your feet and you little hands, Jesse. Ooh. And your tiny teeth, too! We'll have to get the camera out later, won't we? Now, I don't want to hurt that pretty foot, do I?"

 

 

 

Linda giggled and it burst over Jesse, making her keenly aware that her tiny torso held little nestled hollows called lungs. There was a sonic feedback up her esophagus and she felt it across her tongue and the roof of her mouth as the vibrations exited the hollow parts of her tininess.

 

 

 

Jesse was wide-eyed, searching past her legs over the enormous scope of Linda's beautiful fingertips. Where was he? He was no longer on her! Linda's upturned thumbnail waggled a quarter of a millimeter back and forth, jostling Jesse's tiny foot on the edge of her nail.

 

 

 

There was a tiny pale lump. Perhaps a speck of dust, but Jesse knew better. It was stuck to the underside of Linda's broad thumbnail. Jesse tried to reach out with her foot but Linda was already pulling back. Jesse was left raised, propped onto her elbows, her right foot elevated and pointed towards the fingertips.

 

 

 

Jesse scrambled to her feet. She trotted towards Linda's pinched fingertips.

 

 

 

"Ah! Jesse! You're going to fall!"

 

 

 

The hand transformed around her. Jesse was pitched to her face as the broad glistening surface swelled and slightly contracted at the distant edges. The base of the thumb bulged upwards into a radially-seamed hill as the giant fingers curled overhead behind her. Jesse was now in a pillow-studded bowl of flesh. She picked herself back up and continued to run to the fingers.

 

 

 

"Oh my goodness! Did I make you crazy? Did my little leg pinch make you horny, little fairy?"

 

 

 

Jesse reached upwards, underneath the swollen might of the thumb tip.

 

 

 

"I'll pick you up, if that's what you want?"

 

 

 

Linda spread her fingertips and brought them down to the tiny thing. Jesse made a beeline to the underside of the thumbnail.

 

 

 

"What are you doing?"

 

 

 

Frank was plastered face down to the thick, unbreakable keratin. Jesse lithely gathered him up in her fingers as she pressed herself past the thumbnail against the bulging flesh.

 

 

 

Jesse ran her hand down the juncture between thumbnail and flesh. She turned away from Linda and brought Frank up to her face. He was unharmed, sputtering and gasping, slick with Jesse's vaginal juices.

 

 

 

"I almost lost you, you ungrateful little fucker."

 

 

 

"Jesse! You're hurting me! Please, don't squeeze so tightly!"

 

 

 

Jesse loosened her grip and forced the little head into her mouth like a lollipop. She ran her teeth over his chest and upper back gently. Frank tightened and let out a howl. Jesse pulled him free and planted a kiss on his face.

 

 

 

"I hate you! I hate you! Do you hear me! I-"

 

 

 

Jesse pressed the tiny face into the groove between two of Linda's primitive looking thumb ridges.

 

 

 

"Taste that! Do you know where you are, Frank? This is your angel-faced god's thumb print, you little turd! Taste it! I said, taste it!"

 

 

 

Her thumb and middle finger pressed in at the base of Frank's jaw. She levered open his tiny mouth and pressed it into one of Linda's nearly microscopic pores which resided in the groove.

 

 

 

"Salty, isn't she, Frank?"

 

 

 

Jesse started to laugh evilly. She pressed herself into the gentle curve underneath the thumbnail and started to nibble Linda there.

 

 

 

"Oh! Oh, fuck. Jesse, stop that! It's not good there! I-"

 

 

 

The huge digit twitched. Jesse was bodily tossed away. The wind had been knocked from her. She ended up trapped in a firm pillowed crevice.

 

 

 

"Oh shit! Jesse? Are you okay?"

 

 

 

The palm receded and tightened beneath her into a rigid landscape. Jesse sat up and shook her head. There seemed to be a ringing in her ears. Most of it cleared, except for one clear, piercing note. That wasn't in her head. That was Frank.

 

 

 

Jesse looked around, checking underneath of her legs and bottom. Out some distance from her lay Frank. He was face up, limp like a discarded toy. His tiny eyes were almost bulging from his head. His tiny face was locked onto Linda's immense countenance. Jesse crawled over to him. She lay down next to him, rolling to face him and grinned widely. Jesse placed one hand over his tiny body protectively, but allowed him to see all that was happening in the sky above and around them. Linda's huge, pinching fingertips followed Jesse and her face grew larger as she sought to see Jesse clearly.

 

 

 

"Whoa! Whoa, Jesse! Are you still with me? Did you just pass out?"

 

 

 

Jesse stroked Frank's tiny screaming face with a finger. As Linda's face lowered Frank began to tremble violently. A huge grin lit up Jesse's face as her ex-stepfather spotted the fingertips driven by the crouched and folded hand which hovered above them.

 

 

 

"Doesn't she look like an angel, daddy? She's going to get you! She's going to squish you! See? See those big blue eyes? She's looking for you! Look at those humongous fingers, daddy! She's going to squish you, isn't she? You know what? That isn't God, daddy. If it isn't God, then who do you think it is, little mouse?"

 

 

 

"Nooooo!!"

 

 

 

Frank scrambled. Jesse fumbled, trying to grab him in her fist. The tiny thing darted to her head. Jesse started giggling as the naked body pressed completely against her neck, the tiny hands gripping her hair by the roots. Jesse could feel him as his tiny head buried itself into her hair, much like a newborn animal looking for a nipple. Jesse started laughing hysterically, he tickled. She clamped her hand down against him, holding him in place as she sat up.

 

 

 

"Oh, good! Are you okay?"

 

 

 

Jesse waved her free arm and grinned up at Linda as the tiny thing trembled into the base of her skull and shrieked in her ear.

 

 

 

"Don't let her get me don't let her get me don't let her get me don't let her get me don't let her get me-"

 

 

 

Jesse flourished a thumbs-up sign with a pump of her arm. Linda smiled apologetically from above.

 

 

 

"I'm so sorry! You have to be careful! We have to be careful! You're so tiny!"

 

 

 

"Yes I am, aren't I, you gigantic beautiful bitch!"

 

 

 

Jesse motioned to Linda to come closer. The enormous eyebrows furrowed as the eyes studied her motions. Jesse pointed to her mouth and then blew Linda a kiss.

 

 

 

"Oh! I know what you want! Okay, but… But I won't be able to see you down there. You be careful! Start slapping me if something goes wrong, okay?"

 

 

 

Jesse pumped her arm again.

 

 

 

Linda was grinning as she came closer. Soon she was a chin and broad surfaces of pore-studded skin which framed the gorgeous mouth and the huge underside of the faceted nose.

 

 

 

She grew even closer still. Now Linda was a wonderful mouth directly over Jesse. Jesse shuddered, dripping with arousal. The lips puckered and lowered gently, trapping her for a moment beneath them, pressing her into the hard flesh of the palm at her back. Jesse stroked her tiny arms across the soft flesh. She loved this. Linda was so soft here. As the lips pulled away a short distance there was a tiny doll trapped within the closing pleat between two bulges of lip-flesh. It was completely hysterical, a tiny arm reaching out, the tiny face squeezed and red as it disappeared with a tormented, mad scream.

 

 

 

Jesse was laughing explosively. Tears began to roll down her face with her cruel mirth as Frank was swallowed completely in the pillowed flesh. The last thing Jesse could see was the tiny pale hand, clawing as Linda puckered again. For some reason the sight of this drove Jesse mad, seeing her tiny ex-stepfather plainly, obviously compared to Linda was incredibly erotic.

 

 

 

The lips were back. They shivered across Jesse's tiny form. As they raised, Jesse was lifted and suddenly peeled from them with a sensation like her entire front side being lightly slapped all at once. She fell back to the palm. Jesse was almost overloading. Linda being all around her, but even moreso, Linda's gorgeous, expressive mouth being all around her. And Frank. Screaming.

 

 

 

The tiny thing was plastered now to Linda's upper lip. The enormous mouth moved slowly and Linda whispered down into Jesse, delightfully traumatizing and overloading the nerves all across her skin, everywhere.

 

 

 

"I want… to taste… you."

 

 

 

Frank screamed in time with the enormous words. The mouth was back and the tongue surrounded Jesse. As she was pulled upwards she kept her eyes on Frank's tiny, trembling, and plastered form. Jesse softly peeled him from the beautiful flesh and thrust him into her own mouth. Then Jesse was inside, past the frightening teeth. Something truly enormous snaked between her legs as she fought for air in the soft, saliva filled trench. Her own tongue swept between a tiny pair of legs which kicked in protest.

 

 

 

You're such a good girl, Jesse thought, there now, let Jesse's pretty legs caress you. Your my favorite doll of all, such a beautiful doll, aren't you, Linda?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda was finally back and carrying bottle caps. She had been gone for a long time. Steve watched as she deposited two of them into the panty drawer before slowly sliding it shut. Then she thundered over and sat down on the bed next to him and deposited two caps next to his sleeping quarters. She smiled pleasantly as a hand closed around plastic globe, causing it to creak ominously. Steve was tossed into the fluff as his little prison became airborne. He watched as the enormous fingers touched down and bulged widely against the plastic. The top half was worked free slowly and Steve could smell the odor of the plastic as the friction heated it. Then he was in the open air, his little mouse nest and shell cupped in a huge hand.

 

 

 

"How are you today, Steven? I hope you're ready for a big day! What? Don't you remember? We're going to go meet the new neighbors. They're having a party, remember? I told you to mark it down in your day planner. Well, that's okay, I think you'll like them. I think that the husband might be in the same line of work. He seems a nice enough sort. Well, let me make you some breakfast, dear."

 

 

 

Linda surrounded him and lifted him free of his bedding. She seemed especially gentle, still, Steve was quite sore and winced as the ridged flesh compressed him. Linda laid him right above her knee before she slid open her end table's drawer. He watched as she deposited the novelty case within. Linda's hand came back with what looked like a spool of strange tape.

 

 

 

"Down at the dime-store I found this, artist's tape. See? It's very thin. Amazingly thin. Well, I thought of you, honey. I thought maybe you could use this for something at the office."

 

 

 

She pulled away a little piece and tore it off. Linda leaned down over him, Steve knew better than to try to get away. He would simply slide off of her enormous leg and die on the carpet below. He was wide-eyed as Linda's index finger gently pinned his tiny lower body into her leg's warm skin. Steve watched the tape being manipulated and she laid it over his stomach, a nail traced over each end ensuring that he was anchored there well.

 

 

 

"There now, comfy? Now, let's see… Oh, Steven, the kids dirtied all of the silverware! Oh, darn! We're out of dish soap. Doesn't that just beat all? Hmm. Well, honey, just the other night I was reading a National Geographic from 1954. It was so interesting! It had a lengthy article about the Chinese and their customs! I know what you're going to say, Steven, that they're foreigners, and why should a housewife trouble her pretty little head reading about strange people? Maybe you're right, Steven, maybe I have too much idle time in the afternoons after my soaps. But, you see, they eat using such interesting utensils... Don't give me such a dirty look, Steven! You need to keep an open mind! The world is changing. Why, women can vote now and we even have jet airplanes thanks to the war. Anyways, maybe I could just show you what they do and we can forget about a proper place-setting for once? Hmm? Oh, you're such a doll, Steven! I love it when you humor me by listening to my silly girl ideas!"

 

 

 

God, how Linda frightened him sometimes with her vicious 1950s adoring housewife routine. Steve knew he was about to suffer, he could see it in her enormous blue eyes and he could hear it in her voice. He often wondered where this stuff even came from. It was spiteful and he hated how sweet and simperingly naïve she would gush as she would slowly spring some new horror upon him. This was the only time Steve knew of when Linda would telegraph something imminently dreadful. He hated waiting helplessly as she romped through her ridiculous, button-down, black-and-white fantasy world.

 

 

 

Linda grinned at him and giggled as she pulled back the waistband of her shorts. She peered down within and looked at him again with a big mischievous smile. He watched as she fished around in her panties with an enormous hand. Then as he watched Linda painfully plucked a single blonde pubic hair out. She held it up into the light between her fingertips and looked it over. Linda took up the bottle cap in her other hand and turned it back and forth idly between her pretty fingers.

 

 

 

"Now, you wouldn't be able to eat a hot dog or a steak with this. But it really surprised me what they can do with such simple implements. There is a certain elegance to it, I think. Well, I can see by that look that you're done listening to me prattle on about foreigners and silly articles. I'm sorry, Steven, I know you're hungry. Love, honor and obey is what I vowed to you and that's what I intend to do, dear!"

 

 

 

Linda ran the pubic hair over his chest and then jabbed him in the balls several times as she giggled. As he watched she dipped the hair into the cap. It sagged, a tiny droplet or chunk of food clung to the end. Linda lowered it to him and the silvery filament wobbled like a fishing pole, plastering Steve's forehead in what smelled like strawberry jam. Linda started laughing.

 

 

 

She fed him with it, about a third of her attempts ended up on his face or on her own skin. She would occasionally stroke it down the tiny length of his body or tickle his feet with it. Steve knew there was no point in protesting, and she said it "wasn't fair" when he would try to catch the end to guide it into his mouth. He really didn't want her to crush him beneath a fingertip. Steve was worn out.

 

 

 

"Are you finished, Steven? Wave once for yes or twice for no. Really? You are full? Good! Don't you think this was a novel way to eat? No? Oh, Steven, you're such a kidder!"

 

 

 

She brought the pubic hair back down and hovered it over his face.

 

 

 

"Just one more bite, do it for me, Steven. There is flu in the air and I don't want you to catch it. You've got to keep your strength up!"

 

 

 

Linda deposited the jam in his tiny mouth but did not remove the hair. Instead the colossus lowered her face and gently pushed more of the pubic hair into his mouth. Steve began to struggle and he grabbed hold of it. Linda laughed before pulling it free and flicking it into the air to be lost somewhere in the immense sea of carpet.

 

 

 

The tape was pried up and slowly pulled from him.

 

 

 

"Let's go meet the neighbors."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda wrapped and tied him in thread around the waist, using a jeweler's loupe and a pair of monstrous tweezers. She placed a pair of flip-flops onto the kitchen table and as he watched she cut away a narrow section at the front of one of them with a hobby knife, creating a ramp. Steve's tether was tied around the strap post that was anchored between where her big toe and second toe would sit. Then the sexy monster placed him on the flip-flop and gently lowered both of them to the floor. She seated her enormous feet into them and wiggled her enormous toes.

 

 

 

"Now, Steven, pay attention. You're going to have to hold on tight where I tied the great big- I'm sorry, the thin little piece of thread. Can you do that for me? Because if you can't I'm going to tape you underneath my big toe. Are you sure you don't want to go underneath my toe? Because I'd like that. A lot. That's too bad."

 

 

 

Linda took a couple of steps with Steve hanging on for dear life. If she moved slowly it would work. Then Linda thundered to the front door, tiny Steve clinging for dear life between the prodigious digits.

 

 

 

The outside world was a truly frightening place. Impossibly large vehicles almost deafened him as they shot past down the street. The sun was high overhead and the vast woman slowly trod across cement structures that looked like the surface of the moon, but hardened and glittering. It got worse. Linda stepped off the little cement porch into the grass of her backyard. Steve cried out as Linda's foot plummeted straight down off of the dam-like porch. There was an enormous crash as her foot touched down and Steve's arms were ripped from the column. He slammed into the side of Linda's long second toe and pitched forward onto his face.

 

 

 

"Oopsie! Steven! Did you lose your grip, honey? Well, now you have me concerned! You told me that we only needed to hire one worker to help move that new couch in next week? If you've hurt your back and haven't told me... You better be able to help with the couch. We've saved up for so long to purchase it. I'm so looking forward to it."

 

 

 

A shadow covered everything and Steve was greeted by one of Linda's fingers, the diameter of an old-growth oak tree. It slipped down between the enormous toes and came to him. Steve caught a glimpse of the distant blue eyes peering down into the space between her toes before her thumb cut off his view. The upturned fingernail of the index fingertip pressed down into the foam of the flip-flop, deforming it. She slid her nail underneath Steve's shoulders and head. To add insult to injury Steve's tiny panting face was pushed into the flesh just above the nail. The fingertip lifted slightly, bringing Steve's upper body with it. He scrambled against it, steadying his hands on her nail as he weakly stood back up.

 

 

 

"Are you sure you're feeling okay? Do you still want to go meet the neighbors? It's just a little while from here, not far. Steven? You haven't been drinking, have you?"

 

 

 

Steve steadied himself on the round bulge of second toe. He felt like he was nestled in between surreal horizontal natural gas tanks. Beyond Steve, down beyond the corridor of flesh was a strange green world. Steve turned away and stepped to the sandal strap post. Linda's fingers followed overhead monstrously.

 

 

 

"Do you want me to help buckle you in to the driver's seat, honey? Are you sure you can drive, Steven? You're worrying me."

 

 

 

Linda's thumb and finger closed in on him as he wrapped his arms around the post. The tips of her nails gently closed around Steve and the post, gently pushing him against it.

 

 

 

"Stop it, Linda! Leave me alone! I said leave me alone!"

 

 

 

Linda relented and the fingers slipped away into the air overhead, "alright! There is no reason to be so fussy, Steven! I care about you! I just want to make sure you're able to drive! Ooh! Speaking of driving…"

 

 

 

Steve watched as the colossus unfolded, standing straight up and turning into a distant vertical column of blocks of color. She began to move again. Steve could not describe the terrible sounds as her beautiful feet crushed a path through the green chaos. His skin stung from the enormous crunching sounds and his bones rattled. Steve fervently wished he had earplugs. Perhaps if Linda stopped long enough he could dig some of the exposed foam out of the jagged ramp to shield his eardrums.

 

 

 

He truly felt like he was in the Cretaceous. The growth around him was like an endless jungle. Linda's toes, especially the intimidatingly huge big toe were like incredible bulldozers. The undergrowth slammed against the tall bulging front of her toe and broke, slipping across the long purple toenail. It was like trees being splintered and parting across the hulking and unstoppable force of a terrible monster. The colossus slowed and then finally stopped. Right in the middle of the grass.

 

 

 

Out beyond the hallway whose walls were the bulging, rounded surfaces of Linda's mighty toes was a jungle. The spongy ledge of the flip-flop was actually deformed and bunched where the plant's “trunks”, the paler, thicker stalks of grass were pressed in. Steve stared out into hell. There was no undergrowth here, the vibrant green was only punctuated by angry tangles of dead, papery grass ribbons and the warped, boat-like remains of leaves.

 

 

 

"What do you think, Steven? Wouldn't this be a spooky place for you to have an evening walk? Well, come on, dear, let's not dwell on that. You're not single anymore, are you? You don't have to worry about things like this. You're a kept man, aren't you? There is more out here than just endless expanses of nicely trimmed grass. Hold on tight, Steven. Your little Linda is going to take some dainty, girly steps now."

 

 

 

Steve cried out and buried his head against the strap-post as the enormous sandal raised slightly and slammed straight through the grass in a surge. The grotesque forest of green shafts slammed and broke and roared against the foam ledge, spraying debris into the wide flesh-lined crevice. Then Linda was taking careful and taking slow steps again.

 

 

 

Suddenly the pistoning flesh and the creaking, hissing and booming foam broke out of the green tangle of jungle. Steve could swear that Linda had brought him to a beach. For a moment he could see the ragged green partition of grass to one side where it met the pale glimmer of another stark landscape. Stretching out in front of Steve was endless sand. The sound of Linda's steps were much different here and there was an awful and deep stuttering as the foot compressed before it lifted away. It was the sound of sand resisting and then surrendering multiple times beneath the impossible weight and motion of the pinioning foot as it moved through it's walk phase.

 

 

 

Linda stopped and Steve watched as she bent over him, there was a smile on her face visible inside of the swaying silvery cascade of her hair.

 

 

 

"Steven, darling, we haven't been here in ages. Are you feeling romantic? We have to get to the party, Steven! Why choose right now to bring me here, where we used to end up on our dates? Now I know you've been drinking today! You get so sentimental when you drink, that's the only thing that makes it endearing. Well, you've brought us here. I suppose I can't talk you out of it. Why don't you show me around?"

 

 

 

The colossus lowered even further and the two enormous toes which surrounded him fattened out, narrowing his corridor. A fingertip entered the fleshy chasm and Steve was nudged by a purple fingernail out towards the ledge of the sandal.

 

 

 

"Go on, get out. Be a gentleman and open my door."

 

 

 

Steve made his way down the ramp cut into the flip-flop. His heart jumped into his throat for a moment. There were cars here. Some of them were half buried in the sand. Others seemed to have simply been abandoned. All were covered with the dirty circular impressions of long gone raindrops. These were not real cars, Steve realized. The wheels and the windshields immediately gave it away. They were toys. Toys abandoned in a now-feral child's sandbox. There were other things too, sticking out of the sand like Chinese clay soldiers.

 

 

 

Steve had not often been on the ground around Linda and the sight of her was difficult to come to terms with. To Steve, at such a tiny size, Linda was mostly enormous feet and towering calves. The rest of her immense body was so distant that she was heavily distorted. Her distant shoulders and head seemed quite small and foreshortened. She was squatting down and Steve cried out as he covered his head for a moment. One of Linda's hands flew overhead and lowered, looking even more frightening and out of place against a backdrop scaled for Steve.

 

 

 

"This place is really gone downhill, hasn't it, honey? When we were teenagers, do you remember, this was the outskirts of town. We would bring hamburgers here and look out over the lights."

 

 

 

Linda pinched a little plastic head and dragged up out of the concrete-like sand a little figure, Steve's size. It was tan and encrusted with age. She dropped it and rubbed her fingers together to clean the debris from them. Steve realized that it was probably one of those figures meant to go into a miniature landscape, a town surrounded by a toy electric train. He really was that small. To be honest, Steve had not really thought about how big he was. It didn't matter. It was a tragedy and that was enough of a threat to destroy his mind.

 

 

 

"Now, these are just spooky. Why would someone dump a bunch of mannequins here?"

 

 

 

Linda's well hydrated fingers surrounded a little car, a mid-seventies Thunderbird with opening doors. Steve watched as she propelled the little thing towards him. She made car sounds overhead. Steve glanced up at her for a second and her face was lit up like a child, her lips tight and vibrating as she provided the sound effects.

 

 

 

Linda drove little car around him in circles, mindful to not jerk him off of his feet by the thread as she lifted the car in a mock jump over his safety cord. Then Linda parked it in front of Steve, playfully simulating a skid sideways before it came to a stop on the rough dune of fist-sized sand.

 

 

 

"You're a car guy, aren't you, honey? All men are. It has always seemed to me that none of you can help it. It must be genetics, or something. I know what you're thinking, well, let me get the hood open."

 

 

 

Linda pried open the impossibly thick hood with a fingernail and then she worked open the driver's door.

 

 

 

"Go ahead, what are you waiting for? I know you want to."

 

 

 

Steve checked to see how much thread he had to work with before he tenderly made his way across the hot sand. It was difficult for him to walk, these were no longer countless tiny grains. They were large gravel, or worse, and Steve was barefoot. The engine was just as he had remembered them being. A crenellated block represented the power plant, topped off with a thick disk representing the air filter. In front of the fake block was a hint of a radiator. It was all made of a single piece of black plastic, now dirty and slightly weathered.

 

 

 

"Do you think the farmer would give us a good price? I think we have room in the garage. Is it restorable? How about the interior? Come on, Steven, I see that look. I know you want to. Just sit in it. We don't have to buy."

 

 

 

Steve looked up at her. She was one hemisphere of the sky, her vast legs rounded and jutting out from where she squatted like huge sea rocks. Steve almost expected to see tiny birds flying in a clump past her face. It was these cars, Steve thought, I'm tiny, she isn't any larger, this is her world, not mine. The blonde goddess caught him looking and smiled, her enormous beautiful toes wiggled from the tops of her flip-flops. She was mocking him with them whether she knew it or not, they rubbed against each other from atop what looked like the dark walls of battlements.

 

 

 

"Well, go on, check out the interior!"

 

 

 

Linda shut the hood with a mighty little finger. Her bright eyes followed him delightedly as little Steve made his way to the car door. The inside was surprisingly not dirty. Steve tugged on the garden hose sized thread to give himself some slack and slid into the driver's seat. The steering wheel was an almost featureless projection of black plastic, in here he could see that the thick and distorted windshield was held in place by tab-like extensions locked to the roof and into the black plastic dash. The hair stood up on Steve's neck. He was inside of a toy car, something that he had scores of as a little boy. He might have even owned the same car, he couldn't remember. Linda shut the door.

 

 

 

"Strap yourself in! We're going to go for a drive!"

 

 

 

Steve watched as Linda worked her feet out of her flip-flops. She scooted the sandal Steve was tied to much closer. Then the door's windows were blocked off by the undersides of fingernails. The little car lurched forward as Linda propelled it across the sand in the same tight circle as before. Steve could distantly hear her make the stupid "Brrrr! Brrrr! Mwaaaaah!" mock engine noises.

 

 

 

Linda “drove” him around for a few minutes. Steve couldn't help after a while to enjoy himself. But, that began to fade and then it turned to something completely different. Tears came to Steve's eyes as the colossus continued to play with the little toy surrounding him. When she stopped propelling the tiny thing Steve was already choking up.

 

 

 

His life was gone. He would never drive again. It seemed like such a stupid thing, of all of the lost experiences, this was what finally got to him? He would never feel the crush of a car seat underneath of him. He would never pull into a gas station again, or get food through a drive through, never speed being late for work. Never roam through his hometown or the colleges town bored. Never run errands.

 

 

 

There was an immense crunch and Linda's tremendous toes filled the windshield.

 

 

 

"Oh my! It seems that I drank the wrong potion! Look how tiny everything is, stretched out below me like toys!"

 

 

 

"No, Linda! Fucking stop it!"

 

 

 

Steve threw himself at the car door. There was just no way. He struggled to get his legs out from underneath the stupid fake steering wheel. Ridged flesh covered the windshield and pressed in, the toe print distorted and oily, almost like the murderous suckers of a monstrous squid's tentacle. The car was pushed backwards and the back end lowered, sinking into the sand. Steve got his legs free and started to crawl through the driver's side window.

 

 

 

Steve was intercepted by Linda's big toe.

 

 

 

"Ah ah ah, Steven! We're not done yet. You didn't turn off the ignition. That's two points deducted from your total score. You're going to flunk this driving test if you're not careful, mister!"

 

 

 

He had no choice, he pulled his arms back in quickly before Linda severed them against the tip of her enormous toe and the edges of the window. The car skittered, sliding sideways as Linda nudged it.

 

 

 

"Such a tiny car! It's like a toy! I wonder if somebody's inside of it? Ooh! I think there is!"

 

 

 

The wall of toe flesh slid away from the window.

 

 

 

"I wonder what would happen if I just…"

 

 

 

Steve watched as the enormous heel touched down many yards away from the nose of the toy Thunderbird. The entire area was covered with shadow. Steve ducked down onto the hard plastic seat as Linda's enormous foot rocked forward. The smooth, muscular high arched shape transformed into creamy pillows of sole flesh as it lowered. The car creaked and Steve covered his head. There was a muted crunch all around him and his ears popped almost painfully

 

 

 

Steve hazarded a glance out of the driver's side window. There was just enough light peeking through that he could see the curtain of ridged pale flesh that had flowed down over the door. The windshield had been pushed slightly backwards, the tab-like anchors had whitened from the stress. There was nothing beyond the windshield besides Linda's skin.

 

 

 

Steve kept expecting her to raise her foot. She didn't. The incalculably huge bitch left him there underneath her for almost five minutes. The air grew hot, obviously changed by Linda's enormity. The panic had passed, for a minute or two Steve felt nothing. But then the despondency began to creep in, the clarity of what was around him was impossible to offset or distract. Steve began to cry, it was quiet and not felt particularly deeply, but the tears would not stop. He wiped the grit from his arms and sat up. Linda couldn't crush the car. That was just instinct on Steve's behalf. He was safe here and he waited, sniffling and wiping tears from his face.

 

 

 

A crescent of light erupted around Steve and he winced, squinting his eyes against it. Then Linda's sole slowly seem to flow upwards as her foot relaxed. A moment later and there was enough space that Steve could stand outside the car underneath Linda's foot. The car lifted as Linda's foot continued upwards. Steve could hear a giggle somewhere out in the bright sunshine. A shapely fingertip forced it's nail between the hood and her flesh. Steve's tiny car peeled away from her skin and dropped with a jolt to the sand.

 

 

 

Linda's foot was gone into the air. Then flesh surrounded the doors. Steve thought she was picking the car up in her fingers, she was not. A familiar place lowered to the sand outside of the windshield. It was Steve's corridor, the space between Linda's beautiful big toe and long second toe. She had the car clasped between her toes.

 

 

 

Steve was pitched forward against the steering wheel, he threw his arms out and braced himself against the fake windshield. She had picked it up.

 

 

 

"I feel so powerful! I have a tiny car, and a tiny life between my toes! I can't believe it! Hey in there! Hey you, whoever you are! I better feel you kissing me! I know you can, I can feel those tiny windows against me. You better kiss me or I'll smash this tiny car!"

 

 

 

She wouldn't be able to feel it. Steve didn't care. He knew that Linda couldn't crush the car. Steve knew it took a hammer. He had been an adventurous boy, after all. He had earned that useless knowledge himself.

 

 

 

Then he was falling. The car crashed down and Steve was flopped against the hard plastic seat. Outside there was a foam wall as tall as the car. Steve watched as the foam wall was compressed. He could barely see the start of the fleshy curve of Linda's big toe. She had put them back on. A fingernail entered the window suddenly and the door was pried open with a thick, protesting sound.

 

 

 

"Congratulations! You have successfully passed your driver's test! We will mail your drivers license to you, you should receive it in four to six days. You may exit the car now."

 

 

 

Steve scrambled away from it, really not wanting any more of that. Linda was squatting there like a sea cliff and grinning.

 

 

 

"You could have killed me! You could have killed me, Linda! What is wrong-"

 

 

 

He was shaking his pointed finger at up at her as she stifled him in a pinch. Steve was dropped onto the flip-flop. He coughed and sat up. He was underneath Linda's arched big toe. Steve scrambled to make it to his feet as the fleshy miniature blimp dropped smoothly to the foam floor. He hadn't made it, his legs were trapped underneath the digit. Linda was laughing under her breath.

 

 

 

"You are very awkward today, Steven. Are you sure there's nothing wrong with you? You just don't seem to be yourself."

 

 

 

Instead of merely lifting her toe to let him extricate himself Linda traced a fingernail over the half of him visible.

 

 

 

"Maybe I should take you to the doctor? Or would you like to go to the party and then rest later? It's really up to you, honey. If you think you're up for it we'll go."

 

 

 

Steve began struggling as he realized that Linda's thumb had joined her fingertip. He managed to catch a glimpse of her hunkered down over him. There was a cruel look on her face. Steve pushed against her and cursed as her fingernails slowly closed against his miniscule upper body, gently trapping him between them.

 

 

 

"You're trembling, Steven, are you feverish? What exactly is going on with you? Oh, honey! I got dirt on me! Why did you bring me to this place? You know how much time I spent getting ready! It's your fault, Steven, you clean it off, pretty please?"

 

 

 

The pressure was no longer on his legs, Linda's nails pressed into him further, stifling all movement except for his tiny head. He bellowed at her as his little legs were dragged out from underneath her raised toe pad. Linda deposited him in a heap on the shiny, dimpled foam ledge between her toes.

 

 

 

Her fingers were back and they delicately pinched him up. Linda used him like a tiny brush and knocked the sand from the underside of her big toe. Steve's little torso and head were pushed against fist size rocks, dislodging them. He was ran over the entire flattened egg of her toe pad before she dropped him next to the strap post.

 

 

 

"Thank you, Steven. You are a gentleman. Now I look presentable. Oh! What's this!"

 

 

 

The sandal creaked ominously as the flesh sunk into it even more. Steve could see that one of Linda's arms had shot out from her over the derelict sandbox. He stood shakily, leaning against the post as around him her skin rippled, the tremendous muscles sliding and flexing within it around him.

 

 

 

"It seems you have a little friend, Steven! I think it might be the paperboy? Yes, definitely, I would recognize his freckles anywhere!"

 

 

 

Linda's pretty fingertips lowered into the corridor. She held a monster between her nail tips. Linda's fingers deposited it right at the edge of the flip-flop and then they hovered there. It was a June bug. The enormous thing was the size of a pony, it rocked back and forth on it's back, the sharp almost antler-like legs kicking. It was huge and armored and shiny. Steve stared in horror as the brush tufted antennae waggled and the pearlescent eyes stared blankly out from the deformed head.

 

 

 

"Would you like to say hello, Steven? Say hello."

 

 

 

A fingertip was behind him and it nudged Steve forward with it's nail.

 

 

 

"Oh God! Please, Linda! Oh, no! No, no, no! Don't do this to me!" Steve was shrieking.

 

 

 

He spun and hugged himself to Linda's fingertip. The enormous digit slowly glided forward towards the June bug as Steve's tiny legs kicked and pushed ineffectually against her efforts.

 

 

 

"Steven! What's wrong with you? You're being very rude! Shake his hand, Steven. Give the boy some pocket change so he can go to the malt shop!"

 

 

 

Steve detached himself from her fingertip. He lunged away from it as it swiftly followed him.

 

 

 

"Steven. Steven! What is-"

 

 

 

Steve slammed into the tight space behind the bulging pad of Linda's resting big toe. He crawled as fast as he could into the crevice. Steve pressed himself up against her flesh as tightly as he could, hoping that Linda would not drag him out on the end of the thread, or scrunch the mighty digit. He could feel the sticky digit start to shake. She was laughing again.

 

 

 

Steve stayed there for several minutes.

 

 

 

"Steven, I hope you're happy. The little thing burst into tears and ran home. We'll never get our newspaper again, Steven."

 

 

 

There was light as the digit flexed upwards. Linda was staring down at him incredulously, but the June bug was gone. Steve watched as it crawled away. It was at a safe distance. He felt safe.

 

 

 

"You really seem to like it under there, Steven. Don't you? Well, this is no time for hanky-panky. We have a party to get to, Steven. Don't look at me like that. You know I can't resist that. Just one kiss, Steven. Then we're going, do you understand me? Just one kiss."

 

 

 

Linda's fingertip rolled him out towards the edge and the toe lowered on him. Her flesh sealed around him. Steve didn't care. Linda wouldn't hurt him. The beast was gone now.

 

 

 

She raised her toe and peeled him from it with a smile before daintily depositing him at the base of the strap post.

 

 

 

"Enough shenanigans, mister man. You buckle in. I'll drive us there since you're not feeling good. Goodness, how am I going to explain your behavior to that boy's mother? You get to go to the office tomorrow, Steven. You don't have to worry about it. It might seem like a little thing to you, but we have to live here with these people. We have to be civil."

 

 

 

The colossus began to take slow steps, crushing through the nightmarish grass. The enormous being finally stopped in a small clearing made of cracked, barren earth.

 

 

 

"Why don't you go and stretch your legs off of my sandal, Steven? Go on! You're tied to it, you are perfectly safe."

 

 

 

Steve made his way out between the two walls of ridged flesh. Linda couldn't help but wiggle her toes slowly as he made his way to the little ramp. Then Steve's tiny bare feet contacted hot, hard dirt. Cracks stretched away to the forest of grass all around him, cracks large enough for him to break an ankle, some large enough to swallow him whole. Linda carefully removed her sandals and flexed her enormous toes.

 

 

 

Steve peered up at her until he could no longer crank his head back to look at Linda's distant grinning face. He turned and looked around him. This was a frightening place for someone an inch tall. Steve could just imagine what horrors lived in the grass.

 

 

 

There was a high-pitched crack and then a crunch. Steve spun around. One of Linda's enormous feet hovered in the air, the beautiful big toe was pressed into the earth. Partially sticking out from beneath the tall bulging wall of Linda's digit was a dying ant. It convulsed and a green droplet of liquid was forced from between the twitching mandibles.

 

 

 

"Oh! Oh, Steven! I think I stepped on someone! Who was it?"

 

 

 

Linda scraped the ant free and prodded it.

 

 

 

"Oh, this is terrible! Oh, Steven! This is who I wanted you to meet! This was the husband! Oh, the poor, poor darling! What am I going to do? I just wanted you two to get acquainted! You are both, I mean were both in the same line of work! I thought maybe you could trade some war stories about being bugs, you know. Networking. Oh, this is just terrible!"

 

 

 

Linda knelt over him and Steve fought to not tremble as she lowered, her shins shooting out over him like the prows of impossibly enormous ships.

 

 

 

"Someone has to report this! Someone is going to have to tell his family! Oh, Steven! I can't do that! They will think I'm coming to crush them too! You've got to help me!"

 

 

 

One of Linda's hands fished into her short's pocket. As she did so her other hand swept across the clearing overhead. As Steve watched she flicked an ant into the grass. The hand came back, and Steve was daintily caught between her frightening and sweet-smelling fingertips.

 

 

 

"Here, Steve. I'll just cut that off of you."

 

 

 

Linda slid one of the blades of a pair of tiny sewing scissors underneath his thread belt and cut it away with a snip. She laid him down carefully on the hot earth.

 

 

 

"It's that way, Steven. I don't think you'll be able to miss it. It's a town. I need for you to find a Mrs. Timothy Ant. Please, give her my condolences! I'm going to go call the police. I'll meet you back here in an hour, okay, sweetie?"

 

 

 

Linda stood back up. Steve shot to his feet and sprinted towards her, jumping over the cracks.

 

 

 

"No, Steven, honey. That's the wrong way. It's over there. Now, look, I'll be back here in an hour."

 

 

 

Steve ran up the spongy, jagged ramp and stood waving his arms on Linda's flip-flop.

 

 

 

"Well, I don't understand why you want me to leave those here. But, all right, Steven. I'll go inside barefoot. Goodbye."

 

 

 

Linda turned away and then hesitated. She turned back around and bent over.

 

 

 

"Go on, Steven. Go and find those ants. What's wrong? Are you frightened? Bashful? Well, spit it out!"

 

 

 

Steve dropped to his knees. Linda stepped over the clearing in one thunderous stride, the effortless movement of her endless shapely legs caused him to tremble. She turned and faced him from the far side of the open patch. The tall grass of the yard was a jungle to him yet it only reached halfway up each huge foot.

 

 

 

"You don't want me to leave you here, Steven? Why not? You are a bug, aren't you? Isn't this your home, out here? Aren't I just being selfish by keeping you? Go! Go on!"

 

 

 

The gorgeous goddess looked angry and her eyes bored through him as she put her hands on her hips. Linda raised one enormous leg and her foot sailed over the parched earth. Steve was covered in it's shadow. Her big toe dipped and Steve cried out in horror as it loomed over him. She was going to effortlessly snuff out his life.

 

"Get off my sandal, bug. That's mine."

 

He was hit by the long pretty toenail. It was a slow motion flick and Steve ended up in the middle of the sandal, the wind knocked from him. The leg was back under her and Linda bent over, her face angry, hands on her thighs.

 

 

 

"You don't deserve to be on my sandal. That's where my feet go. So get off of it. Maybe the neighbor girl will find you before something tears you into chunks while you're still alive and screaming. Maybe she'll get to you before a wasp lays an egg inside of you. You better start walking. Her house is that way. At your size? That's maybe two weeks if you're running every day. I hope you like bug meat. You're going to go through a lot of calories."

 

 

 

Steve began bawling as he lay there. Linda took one jarring step and was over him. She did not look happy.

 

 

 

"What did I tell you? Hmm? I want to wear those. I'm sure you can make some shoes of something out here. I'm sorry you couldn't say goodbye to Jesse. I will look after her. I know she'll be very upset. Now. Get. Off. My. Sandal."

 

 

 

She stared at him as he began wailing and curled up into a ball.

 

 

 

"Fine. I'll come out and pick them up later. You better be off of them by then or I'll squish you. Do you understand? If you're making your way out of here through the grass and you hear me, well, you had better run. I won't be able to see you and I definitely won't be able to hear you. Go be a bug, Steven. Embrace it. Own it. Go thrive. The neighbor boy mows on Thursdays. Goodbye, Steven."

 

 

 

Linda took an enormous step over him and Steve could hear and feel her thundering away. He was alone. Maybe if he just stayed here, on top of Linda's sandal he would be protected. Maybe. Maybe the neighbor girl would see them and come over to take them. Steve didn't want to die. He would have been good, but Linda just left him-

 

 

 

A shadow covered him. It was Linda! She was back! She towered up into the sky on the other side of the clearing from him. As he watched Linda daintily presented one of her feet into the clearing, her heel raised, resting lightly on the ball of it.

 

 

 

"Well, come here then. You had better hurry."

 

 

 

Steve scrambled up and ran down off of the enormous flip-flop. He made his way across the parched, bare clearing, skirting around cracks that were too large to hop over. Soon he was close to the colossus. Linda spread wide her enormous toes of the foot she had placed in the clearing.

 

 

 

"Kiss me."

 

 

 

Steve ran to her second toe and threw himself up on to it. He kissed her toenail.

 

 

 

"I can't feel that there. What's wrong with you?"

 

 

 

Steve kissed her thick flesh. Her toes reared upwards and took him along with it. Steve hung on as well as he was able but was quickly shaken free. He slid off the side of the enormous digit and landed onto his back. The foot slid forward slightly and the pad of her second toe gently lowered on to him, pinning his fragile upper body to the hot earth. Linda lowered down into a squat overhead.

 

 

 

"Lick."

 

 

 

Steve did. He knew that Linda would be looking for bugs. Linda would protect him as he did this. After a moment Steve was released and she slid her foot way. She was frowning as one hand lowered over him, poised in a pinch. She gently picked him up and looked him over for a moment, her face still serious.

 

 

 

"You're dirty. I'm not happy with you either, bug."

 

 

 

Then Linda knelt down on one knee and carefully used the tiny, soft body to clean the dirt and sweat off of each one of her mammoth toes. When she was finished with that foot Linda laid the limp, sticky body onto the nail of her big toe as she tended to her other foot herself. Linda looked stern as she arched her big toe. He was stuck fast to it and the corners of her lips quivered as she suppressed a smile.

 

 

Linda brought one enormous hand down over Steve and she reached out to him with a finger. He had the air forced from him as the deadly digit captured him beneath it. The tiny, limp body was delicately slid across long polished toenail until it greeted the swollen flesh which framed it in. Linda's colossal fingertip carefully wedged the tiny exhausted body lengthwise in the trough formed between her toenail and flesh at one side of her big toe. She made sure that the tiny head stuck out proud from the rest of her thick digit, adhered helplessly to the jutting side of her toenail. Her sweat was like glue. The colossus slowly stood up and wiggled her monstrous toes as she grinned.

 

 

 

"I would have let you go, Steven. You could have been free of me, permanently."

 

 

The gargantuan blonde took a slow step, smiling perniciously, "all you had to do, Steven, was admit to yourself that you are in fact, just a bug. Just like the rest of them." Steve's tiny eyes wobbled like jelly as the massive heel of the yacht-sized foot touched down. The amazing toe he was anchored to rocked downwards and sunk into the earth, bulging as it took the incalculable weight it carried. Steve was squeezed against the long arc of mercifully cool toenail as he heard particles of dirt screech and moan in torment below him.

 

 

"Steven, pay attention. I need you to help me. I need you to tell me if you see any tiny people down there. You know what a person looks like, don't you? Is that one? Right there? Steven?"

 

 

The toe he was plastered to arched upwards and the foot itself rose. For a moment Steve could hear the super-hard ends of huge bones in the deeply buried foot joints murmur at a low frequency like the calls of distant whales. Pieces of dirt the size of his fist rained down from the pillowed underside of this high arched foot he rode. Wind whistled in his ears as the huge big toe levered downwards. Linda chased an ant on the ground in front of them and Steve was witness to it, like a copilot, like an air-crew bomb aimer guiding the beautiful digit on it's deadly path.

 

 

"I won't let it get away, Steven, don't worry. How long would you say it is? Three feet long? Five feet? Just shy of your length? What do you think?"

 

 

Steve plummeted downwards as Linda plowed her digit into the scorched earth. There was a single, muted snap which escaped the tons of ridged flesh.

 

 

"Ooh! I liked that! Well, would you look at that? There's another one! Quick, Steven, make sure it isn't some poor little person who just wants my help. You need to be fast-"

 

 

Crunch. The toe shivered as the titaness dragged it backwards revealing broken, twitching armored legs and gore.

 

 

"Steven!!? It's like you want me to step on them! Are you trying to get rid of your competition? Are you going to use me to thin the herd before you escape? Or is this just some sick game for you?"

 

 

The enormous feet turned in place before Steve was airborne once again. Linda chased another ant, pointing her big toe down at it and following closely just overhead. Steve had been slowly growing hysterical but this was too much. He was too close to the hellish creature. He could hear the impacts of it's panicked legs, see the rocks it disturbed in it's frantic scrambling, witness the red glow of the dusty, jewel-like lens that passed for it's eye.

 

 

"Linda! Stop it! Please! Oh, fuck, you have to get me out of here! Take me back inside! They're going to eat me! They're going to crawl up on your foot and you're not going to see it because you're so fucking- Oh, Linda, oh fuck! You've got to just-"

 

 

Steve peeled his chest up out of his sticky confinement and tried to crane his neck around to address the astronomical behemoth he unwillingly rode upon.

 

 

"Not quick enough," Linda thundered with a smile as the tiny thing burst against her down pointed and lightly dabbing toe. Steve was thrown, sliding straight out of the trough of Linda's insane anatomy. He collided with the ground headfirst and tumbled messily, tiny rocks large enough to be compared to whole and nameable pieces of his tiny anatomy stuck to his glistening flesh. They were driven into him as he rolled to a stop.

 

 

"Oops! Operator error! Oh my, Steven, where are you darling? Oh no."

 

 

Steve was moaning, his flesh was seared where it touched the rough, hot ground but he was too stunned to do anything about it. In front of him came to rest those monstrous, beautiful feet. What was she babbling about now? Steve looked up at her, a drunken and almost sleepily irritated look crossed his face.

 

 

"Steven? Oh, this is bad! Which one are you? Oh, I don't know which one you are! All of you look the same to me!"

 

 

Steve sat up painfully and became preoccupied with slowly peeling the chunks of rock and dirt from his body. He was having problems thinking, hampered in keeping the correct order of the pieces of his own thoughts. Why was he on the ground? A moment later he realized that his lip was bleeding and swollen. Only yards away from him lay the splattered, embedded and twitching remnants of Linda's last victim but Steve seemed oblivious. He craned his neck back as far as it would go, following the twin towers of tanned flesh upwards where they combined to form the top half of the colossus.

 

 

"Linda? Pick me up! What's wrong with you? Linda? But- but I'm right here! Hey, can't you see me? You have got to just look down, that's all."

 

 

The vast, well-kept toes of one foot wiggled as they raised. The row of digits swung outwards as Linda's colossal heel pivoted, creating sounds that were meant to be contained and echoed from a rock quarry's methodically demolished walls.

 

 

"Oh, Steven! I can't tell which one you are! Oh God! If I pick the wrong- Please, Steven, please honey, just wave to me or something!"

 

 

Steve slowly got to his feet as pebbles dislodged themselves from his legs, "I don't know what- Hey, what's wrong with you?" The amazing foot came loose from the ground and swept over tiny Steve. Linda's mighty big toe lowered over him as Steve addressed the filthy, awe-inspiring pad of it, "this isn't fair. What are you doing? I- I just want to go inside with you, Linda. It's not safe. It's just not safe out here. Hey! Linda?"

 

 

"Is this a bug? Do I crush this one to save my Steven?"

 

 

"I- I'm not, I'm not a bug! I don't know what you're trying to-" Steve's eyes caught movement and triggered to that location, "Oh my god!" It was coming for him, coming to eat him, to cut off his limbs, to lay eggs in his... Steve jumped, trying to grab panicked handfuls of the deep toeprint above him, hoping to cling to it for shelter and protection. It was too far away. "Fuck! Linda, help me! Linda, you've got to-"

 

 

"-or is this one?" The foot swung away and the beautiful toe was brought to bear over the determined ant, "I just don't know. Maybe they're both bugs? Maybe Steven went inside by himself? Hmm. Maybe he can fly? Well, I've never seen wings on him. Though he did date Jesse for a long time. Little Jesse has wings, just like a bug. I bet that's what happened. I bet they're the same species. That makes sense. Oh, silly Linda! That's it! Steven flew away, disgusted with me. I shouldn't have yelled at him. Well, you icky little ants, how dare you scare my wonderful Steven! I think I'll just squish both of you out of principle. You can't stop me, stupid bugs, because I wear my heart on my sleeve! Here comes Linda."

 

 

 

"What are you- I don't- Linda? I don't have wings!" Steve's eyes grew wide as the unstoppable toe lowered over his would-be predator. He watched in horror as the digit daintily destroyed the demonic animal with a single effortless motion. It rocked back and forth on the remains, bulging fatly as it's dense flesh liquefied what to Steve was the equivalent of a Bengal tiger in a suit of plate armor. The toe lifted away and Steve could see the wet shine painted across the bottom of it's immense girth. The entire foot predictably swung until tiny Steve was cloaked in the shadow of the lengthy, rotund underside of the deadly toe.

 

 

"This isn't funny. It's not funny, Linda! I'm not a bug! Just look at me! Oh, Linda, I'm just not a bug. No, no, no! I don't want you... I don't want to be... Please. You're supposed to protect me… I'm not-"

 

 

The mighty toe lowered over him and Steve shivered as his urine trickled onto his feet. He was enclosed in shadow and heat. But he was not dead. The walls of the big toe and second toe formed a peaked arch around his tiny body. The tiny thing was captured there effortlessly as Linda skillfully trapped him between them. Her foot shook the ground as it landed and Linda was laughing as she scrunched the soft, delicate body in a delightful squeeze.

 

 

 

"You're not riding back on my sandal. But, I have just the place for you, Steven. You shouldn't mind. Bugs love living under rotten logs, don't they? They like smelly places. Moist, dark places. Well, this is too clean and way too nice for the likes of you. Come here, bug."

 

 

 

Linda delicately extricated him and knelt, carefully tucking the tiny young man underneath the longish toenail of her big toe. He didn't struggle, he didn't scream, to Linda he almost seemed relieved. She gently positioned his tiny limbs with a fingernail and then she stood back up, chuckling to herself as she flexed and scrunched her toe which concealed her tiny pet. She pivoted and bent to retrieve her flip-flops. Linda walked very carefully back inside barefoot, not putting weight on the digit containing the tiny prick. She left him there as she cleaned her feet off with a washcloth.

 

 

 

Maybe he would appreciate her a bit more now.

 

 

Chapter 12: Steve Unbound by V11

 

Linda was up until 2 AM. She had purchased so many little projects that she had forgotten about this particular one until her backyard outing with teeny-tiny Steve. The plaster was difficult to mix and Linda resorted to using her stand mixer for such a quantity. It was really a simple matter of planning each step and having all supplies ready at hand before the plaster went into the mixer. Linda was happy with the colorant she put into the batch, it came out quite well. The addition of good sand from the backyard was a nice touch

 

 

 

The next morning, noon really, Linda fed her little charges and went to check on her projects. The non-toxic, synthetic polymer plaster had set. Linda peeled away the clay she had used as forms and cleaned away any residual smears or bits of clay with a dental pick and cotton swabs soaked in rubbing alcohol. Then Linda carefully used the nifty new jeweler's files to sharpen the shape of certain aspects. Reassembly of the projects was quick thanks to the tried and true design of the things. Linda picked one up in both hands and examined it. She started giggling severely and broke out into a happy laugh. They were just cute, amazingly so. She couldn't wait to bring them in to play.

 

 

 

Linda went into her closet and took Jesse out of the candy dish. She was so preoccupied with the success of her little surprises that she didn't even torment Steve. Poor thing, he was probably still somewhat sore and tired from his two day ordeal. Linda carried Jesse into the kitchen and retrieved food before going into the craft room.

 

 

 

Linda did not want to interact directly with Frank. It was nearly impossible to do so other than to herd the mite-sized man into an upturned fingernail. Linda did not even trust herself to be able to move him on a piece of paper or a plastic spoon, it would take nothing at all for any air currents to snatch him away to his death. Linda had only interacted with him once at his infinitesimal size and that was disastrous. Jesse was concerned that Frank might permanently lose his mind if Linda were to become much more than a distant goddess-mountain to the poor little thing.

 

 

 

Jesse was responsible for Frank's care and the two women had agreed that Frank should never be accessible to Steve. Steve knew full well what Frank had done to Jesse when she was twelve. Jesse knew Steve. It was easy enough.

 

 

 

Frank was kept in a plastic one to seventy-two scale frontier-style rocking crib that had arrived within a set of little furniture. Both women thought it was boundlessly amusing in their own way. Linda just wished she could peek in on him from time to time, but she knew better.

 

 

 

Today was butterscotch pudding and ham day. Jesse fed Frank and tended to his bodily needs before settling down for some noxious play forced upon the tiny man. Linda got the camera and the microphone running as Jesse worked.

 

 

 

"Jesse?"

 

 

 

"Yes? Is the microphone on?"

 

 

 

"Would you... put him back, please."

 

 

 

"Okay, Linda."

 

 

 

Jesse wiped the spit from Frank's face and placed him back into the overly thick and weighty cradle. She made her way closer to where Linda towered upwards. Linda adjusted the camera as Jesse approached, lowering it slightly and angling it towards her. Linda's humongous beautiful face lowered and hovered just beyond the edge of the table. She looked troubled.

 

 

 

"Jesse? Ah. Could you look into the camera."

 

 

 

Linda watched the laptop's monitor as Jesse frowned and her eyes looked into the air sadly. Linda watched as she sighed and straightened up, peering worriedly into the black glass eye perched like a circus seal on a podium.

 

 

 

"Jesse! What happened?"

 

 

 

The tiny thing started to tear up and she blinked trying to clear it. It was quite a shiner, a strawberry of a bruise on her swollen upper cheek which had crept into her eye socket making it puffy as well.

 

 

 

"He thinks you're picking on him! He knows… he knows that something is going on. He thinks that you are really nice to Mike and I. It freaked him out that you said I was sick when I wasn't. He wanted to know where I was. But, I didn't want to tell him about Da- about Frank."

 

 

 

Linda exhaled through her pretty nose and it swept over Jesse, blowing her hair back and making her shield her eyes as she staggered backwards a step.

 

 

 

"Don't hurt him, Linda! He's just stupid! He has a temper and he doesn't understand why I don't hate you completely! Linda! Promise me!"

 

 

 

Linda's mouth was set harshly and she watched as the tiny girl balled up her fists in frustration.

 

 

 

"It's your fault! This is all your fault! He told me what you did to him, Linda!"

 

 

 

Jesse dropped to her knees and pounded a hand on the wood grain melamine surface.

 

 

 

"Why, Linda? Are you trying to make him crazy? It seems to me that you've been focused on him while I stayed with my- with Frank to calm him down."

 

 

 

"He's a prick, Jesse! I was married to someone like that!"

 

 

 

Jesse crawled forward towards her face.

 

 

 

"But, he's not your ex-husband, Linda! He's not! He's going to end up like Frank, Linda! You've scared the shit out of him! When is it enough for you? We are tiny already. We are so tiny already. What more could you possibly want?"

 

 

 

Linda stared at the tiny girl and her nostrils flared, her eyes gleaming.

 

 

 

"I want to wipe that smug look off his tiny face. I want to-"

 

 

 

"How can you even see it, Linda? How can you even see his face? You know what it's all about, don't you?"

 

 

 

Linda pulled away slowly from Jesse and stood. Jesse flailed her arms as she screamed at the distant cheerless face.

 

 

 

"I can tell, Linda! I know Steve, I know him so well! When you came over to shrink us, he ogled you, right? He didn't hide it, did he? I bet he didn't even try and that's what is pissing you off so much! You figured out that you had interrupted us. He smelled like sweaty sex and he looked you over like a piece of meat! What the fuck do you expect, Linda? They all do that to you, don't they? They always have, haven't they? I'm not stupid and I know what that's like. I know how unfair that is. How lonely that is."

 

 

 

Jesse stood up and put her hands on her hips as she shouted up at the giantess.

 

 

 

"He is a smug asshole, Linda, and he wanted to fuck you! So you made him tiny and then you put him right into your panties. I know how you are, how you can't resist playing with... with your victims! That's what we are, isn't it? But, you didn't even play with him, he went right in. He told me what happened! He still wants to fuck you, Linda, even now. I can tell."

 

 

 

"None of this matters. So, I don't like him very much. Never have. He hit you, Jesse! He hit you."

 

 

 

"Linda? Linda! You leave bruises this bad on him all the time! You just don't look for them! You don't want to see him up close, you just want to look at me. Is it because I'm pretty? Do you like me now, Linda? Do you feel bad that you took away everything from me? This is like being dead, Linda! Except we're not! Do you wish you could go shopping with me? You would have been my pretend auntie, right? Or like an older sister? You would have taken me under your wing, we would have gone to have drinks after work? Meet and go to yoga together every Wednesday, hmm? What else happens in the younger-older girlfriend dynamic, Linda, let's see. Ah! You would have asked me to house sit while you're on vacation. Rescue each other from our flat tires and popped radiators. Always just a phone call and a hug away."

 

 

 

Jesse stopped suddenly. The enormous woman blinked too many times too quickly. Jesse had hit a nerve. She didn't think it was possible, somehow. But there it was. Jesse had learned a bad trick from Steve and it had been so long since she had argued with someone else so passionately. She did exactly what Steve had taught her: trace the nerve ending to it's source, pick one of the buttons there and smash repeatedly with a mallet.

 

 

 

"Oh, I think I know what it is, Linda. I'm right, aren't I? All of that. You do feel bad. You really do. But I'm your little fairy-girl, aren't I? Why is that? There's tenderness there, that's why you bought the microphone. To give the prettiest of your pathetic little finger puppets a voice. Because you felt bad, just like I said, you really do like me. I see those tears you are trying to hold back. You're trying to make it all better. I am your tiny captive girlfriend. I'm human again, well, at least to you, right?"

 

 

 

Linda lowered down until her face hovered in front of Jesse. She had regained her composure and yet her mouth opened several times to interject but she let Jesse go on. Jesse stepped forward into Linda's vast shadow and raised her voice so the microphone would still pick it up.

 

 

 

"Steve wanted to fuck you and you hate him for it because he's a man. I guess Mike wanted to fuck you too. To be honest, I'm a bit confused about that part and how that works. But, I guess that's why you shrank your son. Because now it's okay. It's cute and harmless? Or was Mike never a man to you? Never a threat to you? I'll probably never know."

 

 

 

Linda tilted her head slightly as something darted across her face for a moment.

 

 

 

"But I really am pretty, aren't I, Linda? Aww, that sweet face. Pose for the camera! You never experimented, did you? You never even thought about it. But, you are free now, your chains are gone, bought out for a nice price and all of this time on your hands to think. You don't just want to be my pretend auntie, my pal or God forbid my mother-in-law, do you?"

 

 

 

Linda lowered until her thoughtful eyes were level with the tiny being.

 

 

 

"If you could do it all over again, knowing what you know now, I wonder. I think you would still make them tiny, I really do. But not me, right?"

 

 

 

Jesse stepped closer to her, confronting the huge pretty blue eye flecked with small gray radiating streaks. She watched as the almost psychedelic iris contracted. Linda blinked and Jesse shuddered involuntarily. She was small enough that Linda's long and ample eyelashes could capture her like the spines of a Venus fly trap. The tiny naked woman did not like that sudden vision, but Linda would, and she would do that if she could. Jesse stared into the black void of Linda's pupil, stared down the optic nerve straight into the vast brain.

 

 

 

"You want to fuck me, don't you, Linda? But you can't because you made a mistake, you shrank me too, and you feel bad about that."

 

 

 

An enormous fingertip raised up over the ledge, it came on and touched most of the front of Jesse's little body. Jesse backed away from it but the digit gently kept up with her, the vast blue eyes followed her tiny form. Linda wasn't herding her, not exactly. The colossus just wanted silky skin to elephantine skin contact. Jesse kept stepping sideways away as the overhang of long natural fingernail threatened to engulf her tiny left shoulder. Jesse didn't want her head under there, she knew Linda might not be able to resist the temptation to make it a statement of control.

 

 

 

"Well, are you glad you got that off of your chest. I'm sorry that Steve hurt you. That won't happen again. I'll make sure of that."

 

 

 

The fingertip raised, came forward and lowered onto Jesse before she could get away. Linda gently pinned her to the table beneath it. Jesse did not struggle. Linda's face slowly rolled upwards vertically from beyond the table's end. The lips were smiling mischievously as they were revealed.

 

 

 

"How would you like to have another little doll? I could do that, you know."

 

 

 

Linda began gently run her fingertip over the tiny thing, slowly petting her.

 

 

 

"No, Linda! Don't you dare! Don't you dare!"

 

 

 

"But, that would kill two birds with one stone. Steve would never hurt you again and when he would be with me, and he would be with me, he wouldn't be so smug. I'd like that! Poor little Frank is a mess, but Steve, he would last a little while before his mind broke completely. Oh, I would love to see him struggling on me somewhere. I could be a whole world, a great big landscape. The vast and unexplored Linda frontier for a flea-sized Steve. Ooh. That's getting to me already!"

 

 

 

Jesse pushed against the immovable flesh.

 

 

 

"Linda, let me up. Come on, I'm sore enough already. Stop treating me like this."

 

 

 

Linda went on without moving the heavy dominating digit.

 

 

 

"But I couldn't do that to you! No, Steve will just have to learn. He can't be violent towards you. You're delicate, Jesse, fairies always are. I won't hurt him, Jesse. I'll just teach him to play nice."

 

 

 

Linda's chin passed the threshold of the tabletop. The colossus gently held Jesse to the table as Linda's frightening mouth descended over the fingertip. Jesse began struggling.

 

 

 

"Linda? What are you doing? Oh, please don't, I don't want to, please. Please just leave me alone."

 

 

 

Linda whispered slowly, "you're very astute with some of your observations, Jesse. I'd love to have explored… some things with you. I don't know why, exactly. I like how strong you are, and I think you're beautiful. I've never even thought about a woman before, not like this. That's not what good girls did. It was never an option. It's too bad Mike never introduced us when he had the chance, isn't it? All I ever got to touch was your hand. That's kind of funny, isn't it? Seeing how things have turned out. But you're my special tiny fairy-girl, right? All I have to do is reach out."

 

 

 

As the fingertip left the tongue took it's place.

 

 

 

"Oh, God no, Linda! No, no, no! Don't hurt me! Please be careful with me!"

 

 

 

Jesse thrashed as the tongue worked her body over for a moment. She could see the enormous smile so close that it seemed that she could reach out and touch it. Jesse was lifted upwards on the end of the tongue and she passed beyond the huge teeth. Fingertips retrieved her and Jesse found herself plastered to Linda's grip. Her mouth was right there and Linda grinned, like a billboard sized toothpaste advertisement.

 

 

 

"You don't get it, do you? Mike doesn't get any dignity. He doesn't want any dignity, Jesse. He's a tiny toy for his own mother. That's a paradise and hell for him. It's okay, Jesse. You're not supposed to understand that. That's between Mike and I. Our relationship… is complicated. Steve doesn't deserve any dignity. I've been working on taking him down a notch while you were busy with your stepfather. I am so sorry that you had to suffer. I pushed him too far, maybe not far enough. I put you two together at the wrong time. I'm so sorry, Jesse, I really am. I wish I could have stopped him. I'll make it up to you."

 

 

 

Linda kissed her pinky and brought it up to Jesse's face. She didn't touch her with it, but smiled apologetically.

 

 

 

"I want you to have dignity. You deserve dignity. You are the strongest of the three, but that's a problem, isn't there, Jesse? If you had no dignity I think you would die. I understand, I don't want to take away something like that from you. You've suffered so much. I don't want you to die. But you don't understand something about me, Jesse. I've played with little shrunken lives since I was a girl. Once your tiny? You're mine. Part of what makes tiny people so wonderful is that they were people. You'll understand if Frank lives long enough. I can already see it happening."

 

 

 

Linda blew softly on her for a moment and smiled happily.

 

 

 

"Admit it. It just isn't me with a strange and wonderful little crush, is it? Something makes you hot when we are together sometimes. I can tell. Is it me? Do you find me pretty, Jesse? Is it how big I am? I know how you touch me sometimes. It's always my fingertips, Jesse, isn't it? Do you like it when they are all around you and you can't move? Hmm? Is it how tiny you are? Is because I own you completely? I'll find out, teensy. One of these days I'll figure it out. I'll reward you with it and I'll definitely punish you with it. You had better hide it, Jesse."

 

 

 

Linda brought Jesse up in front of her smiling mouth and whispered with a coy smile.

 

 

 

"Don't forget that I'm a fairytale monster. Never forget that. I'll find out what it is, I promise you."

 

 

 

Jesse floated away a bit and the head cocked as Linda's eyes locked with hers. Linda chewed on the inside of her lower lip for a moment in thought.

 

 

 

"You will always have some dignity with me. I will always think about what you say and I'll always hold back when I have to. I might just need little reminders now and then. But, you're good at that, you always let me know, don't you? Now just relax, Jesse, let me make you feel better. You poor little thing, I can tell that it hurts. You've got me thinking about kissing you. But I can't because I did a terrible thing to you. I'm sorry, Jesse. I have an idea, something I haven't tried yet. It will be just something between friends, it will be our secret. I hope you like it. Shh, just relax."

 

 

 

The demoness carefully transposed her to the other hand's pinch. Jesse's tiny legs folded tightly against the meaty crevice where they were dangling. The tip of Linda's tongue was back and gently forced her legs apart.

 

 

 

Linda took her time pulsating between the tiny legs. It was almost ten minutes before Jesse was screaming and squeezing her shapely legs around the flattened point of enormous pink muscle. When she was finished Linda gently slid her drenched form to her thumbnail and looked over the tiny, panting beauty adhered there. She blew gently on her and smiled.

 

 

 

"There now. I hope your endorphins take away some of your pain. When you're ready I'll let you gather up Frank. Be sure to hide his little eyes from me. I'll let you crawl into my hand. You two can go in the candy dish, and then Steve and I are going to have a talk."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda took Steve out of the candy dish and trapped him underneath a clean drinking glass on her dresser. She deposited Jesse clutching tiny Frank into the candy dish. She had been considering a particularly dreadful torture for quite a while and had done a bit of research every time she went into town at the library's public computers. Linda had already had a preliminary discussion with Ms. Wilson a few days ago. She might even be able to accomplish this today if she was lucky.

 

 

 

Linda made a little phone call.

 

 

 

"I'm still not sure, but I would like for you to come out and at least take pictures of the house if it would be possible for you to hold onto them. I might not even put it up for sale, but I would like to be ready. I would like to just be able to call you if it ends up that I want to sell. Well, I don't know right now, I'm in the middle of a family crisis of sorts. Of course, that's excellent. I just want to be able to call you and go to it."

 

 

 

Linda was depositing ingredients into her nice expensive blender for a smoothie as she talked.

 

 

 

"When? I'm free now, but I don't suppose- oh, you are? You can come right out? Are you familiar with this area? Good. Yes, around three is fine. I look forward to seeing you."

 

 

 

Linda made her smoothie and gulped it down quickly. Then Linda got to work. She tidied up the house, putting questionable things away. She walked to her bedroom and crept to the doorway quietly. Tiny Steve was pacing in the bottom of his upended drinking glass. Linda grinned and came over to him. She brought her face down and tapped the glass with a fingernail, causing the precious young man to clamp his hands over his ears.

 

 

 

"I have a surprise for you, Steven. I think you really going to enjoy it, but we have to get you ready. So you take a deep breath and stand up straight and tall. We are going to have so much fun today! You won't even be able to stand it! It will be that much fun, I promise!"

 

 

 

Linda went into the walk-in closet and carefully picked up the candy dish. She then moved it to a top shelf with incredibly slow movement, sliding a shoebox in front of it. She came back out into her large bedroom and smiled down at Steve. Linda raised the drinking glass and captured him. She took him to the craft room and sat him down on the little table as she set up the fly making equipment.

 

 

 

Steve hoped Linda didn't know what he had done to Jesse. Steve had wanted sex but Jesse was in no mood for it. She was withdrawn and even her verbal interactions with Steve seemed clipped and maddeningly unspecific. Jesse was preoccupied with something, how was that even possible? What was Linda doing with her, to her? Where had Jesse been while Linda was tormenting Steve? Why was Linda tormenting Steve? What was it about him that the scarily gigantic Saint Pauli Girl disliked so much? How in the hell could she dislike something about a person the height of her goddamned overly-pampered thumbnail?

 

 

 

Needless to say, Steve was over pressurized, overly sore, bruised and Linda had really gotten to him. Steve felt very tiny. Jesse's stupid mystery behavior made Steve feel even more tiny and helpless, but it was in comparison to Jesse now, it was ridiculous and too much. Steve had snapped.

 

 

 

Now he was standing on the edge of a table and the enormous bitch had a strange look on her beautiful face. She looked hurt, if that was even something that such an immense being could ever feel. Suddenly the huge blue eyes cleared, becoming haughty once again, casually amused. Steve had glimpsed something genuine through a crack in the silvery gold exterior. He wasn't supposed to see that. Steve realized that he was so tiny to her. So incredibly-

 

 

 

Stop that, Steve thought, you are an inch tall, no smaller than that. She has just worn you down. You have had her attention for two whole days. No wonder you feel so small.

 

 

 

A smooth thunder erupted from the beautiful mouth, Linda was using her normal, strong speaking voice. She was so close, though. She is fucking with you again, Steve reminded himself as he noted that Linda almost sounded like that actress that played Wonder Woman back in the nineteen-seventies, what was her name?

 

 

 

"Do you know what happened this morning? I was getting ready to do terrible things to your little girlfriend and I realized something. Jesse's tiny face had a big bruise on it. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Steven?"

 

 

 

Steve almost collapsed to the table. She knew. That was it, that was what Steve had seen in her face! The gargantuan blonde had looked hurt! There was something between Jesse and her! Steve had known it! All this time he had been suspecting something, and here it was, plain as day! Linda liked Jesse, treated her differently. Steve started shaking, fear was overtaking him, he had hurt Linda by striking Jesse. But there was more than that, Steve was shaking because of uncontrollable anger venting upwards out of his belly and corrupting his mind. There were tears in his eyes he was so angry. This enormous being had stolen Jesse from him and he couldn't even see it! No wonder Steve felt so small, no wonder he had felt tiny around Jesse. She was a piece of Linda now, claimed and converted.

 

 

 

Linda raised an enormous object up above the edge of the table and wedged it over her eye. It was a jeweler's loupe, Steve had probably seen it before on one of these tables, but from his perspective it would have just been an enormous black cylinder. The colossus squinted through it and her pretty fingers floated towards Steve. They transformed into Linda's typical pinch of thumb and index finger as they came on slowly. He began to back away as he felt a chill run down his back, the sexy monster was going to hurt him. Why else would she be using a jeweler's loupe?

 

 

 

"No, no, no Steven. I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe with me. You're always safe with little Linda, aren't you Steven? I can't hurt a fly, can I, honey? So I certainly can't hurt a bug."

 

 

 

The colossus was leaning forward, bringing her beautiful face lower. The pretty mouth looked stern to Steve, something that might be endearing if she were Jesse's size, a normal size to Steve. But this was terrible. This was different than when he was outside with her, much different than with the ants. That was mock anger, blustery and thunderous. This was quiet and slow. This was real. Steve had never seen her actually angry before. It was almost impossible to elicit such a response at only an inch in height.

 

 

 

The other hand erupted from beyond the table's edge with a purple flash of her nails. It sailed over Steve's head. There was a tremor through the table top and Steve could go no further backwards, the twenty-five foot tall wall of her vertically interposing palm had him trapped.

 

 

 

The thumb and index finger were nearly upon him. He couldn't help it.

 

 

 

"Fuck you! Do you understand me, Linda? I'm not your pet and I'm certainly not a bug! You don't frighten me! You don't frighten me!"

 

 

 

Linda was smiling now. Steve stood his ground, panting, wide-eyed. The mammoth fingertips subtly moved as they overtook him with their pinch. The flawless fingernail and thumbnail closed on each side of Steve, but they did not touch him. He kicked the dense flesh of her seven foot diameter thumb tip and regretted it immediately, stubbing a toe.

 

 

 

"Ow! Goddamn it!"

 

 

 

Steve bent as he favored his other leg. The enormous fingertips hovered upwards almost completely above Steve's tiny body and then they gracefully closed as Linda smiled widely. Steve began screaming, his head was caught between Linda's thick nail tips.

 

 

 

"There, you see? I would never hurt you, Steven. I suppose it's okay if you knock Jesse around once in a while. She probably got uppity with you. I completely understand. You're a big strong man, right, Steven? You do what you want, when you want, and to hell with anyone else. I'm scaring you, aren't I? It's okay, Steven, you can cry if you need to."

 

 

 

He was struggling, both tiny arms pushing against one of her gracefully curved fingernails.

 

 

 

"Please don't kill me. Please, Linda! Please don't crush… Don't squish me! Please, I didn't mean it!"

 

 

 

"Aww. Such a tiny head. It's like a tiny seed, isn't it? It's very cute, Steven. But, what if I sneezed right now? What if I had a muscle spasm in one of my great big fingers, or in my hand? You're just so delicate, aren't you? That's what I like about you, Steven, you're a tiny wisp."

 

 

 

Linda let go and he staggered backwards before falling to his knees, his hands clamped around his head.

 

 

 

"You like picking on girls, Steven? I remember Jesse, Steven. I remember both of you before I shrank you. Jesse was a tiny thing compared to me, slender and vulnerable. Not even really done becoming a woman yet."

 

 

 

Linda's fingernails closed around Steve's upper body again as she talked. He was screaming as she lifted him upwards in her pinched nails.

 

 

 

"Does that hurt? I bet it does. Here, let me help you, Steven. I know my nails must be hard against your skinny ass."

 

 

 

The jeweler's loupe was right there, hovering beyond the tiny kicking form. Linda's other index fingernail and thumbnail slowly closed across his tiny shins, stifling his pain-wracked kicks. Linda pressed the knuckles of her hands together to stabilize both of her hands into one unit. She adjusted her hands posture in front of her eyes.

 

 

 

Steve was stretched horizontally between both sets of the colossal pinched digits. He was screaming in absolute fear and some great amount of pain. He was a bit of meat on a rotisserie, a whole kid roasting over a fire. Stephen had become a prisoner tortured on a most modern and fashionable bit of feminine embellishment repurposed as a medieval stretching rack. Linda's enormous blue eye peered at him monstrously through the crystal aperture of the loupe.

 

 

 

"This is only the beginning, Steven. I have plans for you today. But I wanted to show you how helpless you are. You are very tiny, Steven. I love it. This is even making me a little hot, you know."

 

 

 

Linda lowered him to the table and let go. Steve immediately curled into a tiny, trembling ball. Linda smiled and removed the jeweler's loupe. She upended it, capturing Steve within it as she sat it on the table. Linda smiled down through the magnifying glass at the tiny distorted man and continued to ready the equipment.

 

 

 

Linda began to prepare Steve for his little adventure. Using the fly-making jig she bound his arms and legs in silk thread carefully. Then she gently wound the thread from his feet all the way up to his shoulders. Linda was very careful and very delicate as she gagged him with a piece of thread across his mouth. Then she retrieved a drinking straw from the kitchen drawer and brought it to the craft. After taking some measurements she punctured it in several places behind one end and ran thread through it, creating a stop so tiny Steve would not slide entirely into the straw. Above that Linda cut away all but a thin strip, this would be the "back board" that would support Steve's tiny body if Linda got a chance to use the straw.

 

 

 

Linda attached a piece of double-sided tape to the inside of the little "backboard", it would be a very quick attaching mechanism. The silk thread which bound Steve like a tiny mummy would protect him from the adhesive. Linda giggled, she didn't need to worry about his hair getting caught on the tape. What she had in mind for this drinking straw contraption was all about teeny-tiny Steve having his head free.

 

 

 

Linda finally undid tiny Steve from the lure mount. Linda held him up to one enormous blue eye and looked him over.

 

 

 

"You look like a little worm, Steven. It's a good look for you, I think."

 

 

 

Linda brought him close to her mouth and whispered, "Jesse said that you think I treat her and Mike much better than you. It wasn't true. You were wrong. But not anymore. We're going to have a guest today, Steven. Just for you. A sort of specialist who could deal with you if I asked them to. Someone who could correct this wayward little boy. I have gone to a lot of trouble to arrange this, a lot of deceit. So I hope you appreciate it. I want you to think about what you did to Jesse and I hope you enjoy the view. It's just for you."

 

 

 

Linda kissed him and then took him to the foyer. She delicately placed the tiny young man in the shadow of some of her sandals next to the rug that lay before the front door. The colossus thundered away leaving Steve on his side, bound like some maiden across railroad tracks in a silent film.

 

 

 

Steve drifted off for a while into sleep. He was startled awake by the expensive sounding doorbell. There was an approaching thunder and tremors. Then Linda's shapely and pampered feet swept the gigantic blonde to the doorway. The enormous door creaked and shuddered as it swung out into the foyer covering tiny Steve in shadow. The hot outside air tumbled and spread across the floor as the storm door shivered open.

 

 

 

"Hi, are you Linda?" A powerful feminine voice asked.

 

 

 

"Hi! Yes I am. Come on in!"

 

 

 

"Nice to meet you finally! I'm Bethany!"

 

 

 

The golden colossus stepped back and there was another set of deep tremors through the floor beneath Steve as this other skyscraper sized person passed through the doorway. The shadow melted away as Linda closed the door. Steve was confronted by an awe-inspiring set of feet clad in nice black patent leather high heels. Steve loved high heels. He had idly wished that Linda was the type to wear them. But Linda was obsessed with her nails. Steve had wondered what high heels would look like at this size. This other goddess did not disappoint him. These were Steve's favorite kind of high heels, exactly these kind, even the same brand and this other monster, she wore the exact color of stockings that Steve liked. It was almost as if…

 

 

 

"Wow! Your house is beautiful, Linda!"

 

 

 

"Thank you!"

 

 

 

Steve could not see this new monster any further up than mid-calf. She seemed to have nice legs like Linda, but Steve could not be sure. His hair stood on end as the titanic high heels turned in place. One rocked back onto the spike and the toe of it lowered to the floor again. Steve's eyes were wide and he was trying to smile past the gag. He might as well enjoy it. The mighty, elegantly clad feet continued to unknowingly model those sexy shoes for Steve as they drove tremors into the floor. Steve was just crazy enough, just bold enough to leap over his own fear like a hurdle and land on the other side of it, taking in this once-in-a-lifetime experience like the unashamed hedonist he was. He wanted to thank the beautiful monster Linda. She was right, Steve absolutely loved the view. Had Jesse told Linda about Steve's "little kink"? Did this other Brobdingnagian woman know about the three of them? Did Linda have a playmate? Her name, Bethany, that was funny, that was the same name as…

 

 

 

"I hope you don't mind, Ms. Wilson, but I'd appreciate it if you take off your shoes. It's sort of a pet peeve of mine."

 

 

 

"Oh, sure!"

 

 

 

Steve began screaming hysterically, but the gag turned it into ineffectual murmurs. One enormous foot left the high heel and the huge toes wiggled as the stocking-clad monster came to rest on the rug. Then the other one was freed, thick and mighty toes wiggling with relief. Linda had picked up a normal sized car between such things. Steve had been inside crevices much like these because of Linda's terrible playfulness.

 

 

 

A thick wall of humidity spread out from the moist monsters. It smelled like wet saltines and dried fruit. Bethany Wilson. The mother of Steve Wilson. The college-age young man who went missing last week.

 

 

 

Linda's beautiful feet turned and thundered away. Steve began trembling as he stared from his hiding place. The rug itself was a good five feet tall. The stocking clad feet were elevated slightly above where he lay and Steve was laying on the tile. He couldn't feel any smaller. Familiar hands lowered out of the sky and grabbed up the high heels. Steve was deafened as they were dropped next to where he lay. The feet pivoted away from him and through his tears he took in his mother's punishing heels.

 

 

 

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. Maybe Linda would keep his mother from accidentally crushing him. Linda would do that, Linda cared. Linda wanted to keep him alive. Linda was going to instruct his mother on how to take care of such tiny offspring. Linda knew. She was so good with them, so careful. Steve would be just fine, thanks to the sexy monster.

 

 

 

"I figure I can just start taking pictures. Just show me around, Linda, give me a tour and I'll take care of them."

 

 

 

One huge foot lifted and it's instep rubbed against the back of the ankle of it's companion. Steve was biting into the steel-hard thread in his mouth as he shook.

 

 

 

The enormous feet turned around and faced him. One moved through the air and slammed down not far away from tiny Steve. Strangely scented wind whipped across him propelled out from the impact. He was so tiny. Linda was going to cut a tiny hole in those hose. They were both going to mock him before his mother would slide his tiny form through the ragged aperture. Steve knew what to do then. He would be a good boy. He would show his mother that he deserved to live, deserved to go home with her as her little secret. Linda had taught him. Be tiny and terrified. Wiggle a lot because gigantic women apparently liked to feel that as they trapped tiny people, tiny sons in their hot, sticky toe cracks. Steve could do that. It would be like dancing naked in front of women. Just another performance. But his mother would be forgiving, she would be a merciful critic of his tiny performance. He was going to be fine.

 

 

 

Steve was hyperventilating through his mouth around the gag, leaving a steady splash of spittle on the enormous tile. The huge purse slammed down and it bulged as Steve's mother rifled through the contents. The huge toes wiggled, gleaming wet and covered in the diamond shaped netting. What was she waiting for? Why wasn't she cooing down at him? Steve waited, expecting at any moment for his mother's voice to drip syrupy like a smooth thunder overhead. He waited for that thick, dense big toe to daintily smush him into the tile.

 

 

 

Can you blame him? Jesse had said. Steve was moaning. His cock. His cock felt full, heavy. It was stiffening. He wanted to die. Jesse and Mike had infected him. They gave him the hint that it would be okay to do this. He hated them now, but he hoped his mother would approve. She had to. She had to take him with her. Jesse and Mike were just trying to make him see a way out. He was wrong about them, Steve was always too hasty to judge. They were his friends, really, even though he was a judgmental prick. He would tempt her thanks to his friend's cues. He would finally make a good enough toy that he could go home.

 

 

 

Steve finally understood Mike. He was almost a little bit jealous of him. His own mother was not as beautiful as Linda. Steve laughed, spraying spit out past the gag. Linda was like a playground for tiny people, everything carefully tweaked and optimized for that one purpose. Bethany Wilson was an overworked realtor. Linda didn't even have an unpleasant smell. Even her fucking chemistry was set up to create a hygienic theme park for the tiny. Steve hoped he could get over Linda. He hoped he wouldn't miss her too much. Why wasn't his mother paying attention to him? Why wasn't she tormenting him? He knew Linda was watching. Linda was going to chew her out. Steve felt bad for her, but maybe this was just a trial run. She would get better, she would figure it out.

 

 

 

Bethany must have found her camera. Suddenly the purse rebounded to it's trim and bulky straight-sided form. The enormous feet turned around, showing off her heels again. Then one of them took a half-step backwards. The round, horizontally seamed hammer of flesh slammed down in front of Steve. He felt the impact through the entirety of his tiny body painfully. It took a second for his vision to clear again from the explosive tremor. His mother was a mighty and bulging wall in front of him. Steve was fascinated by the smell surrounding him and then the heat of her enormous flesh clung to him like a big, happy maternal hug. He felt peaceful as he took in the bulging cliff of flesh. His mother's heel was covered with perspiration, the frightening piece of anatomy glittered wetly like a cavern's wall. He heard the camera click and there was a bright flash like lightning, and again.

 

 

 

His mother's mighty feet thundered away, leaving a rapidly evaporating crop-circle of sweat on the same tile tiny worm-Steve lay upon. Tears streamed out of his eyes, snot from his nose and each shuddering exhalation flung droplets of saliva outwards.

 

 

 

Steve started laughing.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13: Out on the Farm by V11

 

"Oh, Linda! This is just beautiful!"

 

 

 

No matter where they went, Steve could hear them. There were two strange things that he had verified. These were subjects Steve should never have doubted, things that surprised him a bit when revealed. What had his subconscious suspected this entire time? First, Linda was real. Steve had known that, or at least thought he had known that. Unless, of course, his own mother was also a fabrication of some elaborate insanity. Funny how different parts of a person's psyche might keep and hold secretly a belief in different versions of the truth, only reconciled and made whole by sheer obviousness.

 

 

 

Secondly, Linda was not gigantic. This was not entirely hidden to Steve's consciousness. There were things about her, unusual characteristics that had led Steve to doubt for tenths of seconds that Mike, Jesse and himself were actually on Earth and not in some crazy alternate universe. Perhaps a beautiful, modern home only accessible via an impossibly dangerous climb up a gigantically fertile beanstalk. Linda moved like she was over four hundred feet tall, she acted that size, if that made any sense, she even looked or had the look, the bearing, of a colossal goddess. Steve now knew that this last false suspicion was a trick of mirrors. Linda seemed that way because she wanted to be that way, or simply was that way. Which came first, the thing or itself? It was pointless. Linda was Linda, and that was gigantic, austerely selfish and predatory, filled with a cruel, sexual mirth.

 

 

 

But here was his own mother, and she was with Linda, of all people. Oh no! Oh God, no! Steve's mother was with Linda. What was Linda going to do... to her?

 

 

 

They were chatting and occasionally a white flash would flicker across all details of the ceiling and wall molding at crazy angles.

 

 

 

"Back here?"

 

 

 

"Yes! On the right wall in the back. You can't miss it."

 

 

 

"Oh, I love your bed! Is this an antique?"

 

 

 

"It's French, very old!"

 

 

 

"It's beautiful, Linda! I'll be right back!"

 

 

 

A familiar thunder like evil drumbeats grew in volume and entropy. Linda was smiling down at him and then she was huge, and then she was just calves and beautiful feet. Steve's tiny bound form conformed like wet lint to the curve of the big toe's tip and the beautiful digit plowed him forward against it. He ended up wedged painfully in the tight curve where the invading ridged flesh sat flattened against the tile.

 

 

 

Then he was between her fingers in front of her shining face.

 

 

 

"You like the show so far, Steven? You're so tiny! So tiny compared to her! Do you want to see? That's not good enough for you, Steven? No? Well, then, I think you should smell, and maybe taste, would you like that? Taste mommy, Steven."

 

 

 

Something pressed into his back as Linda's bulky thumb pad crushed him. Then the thumb went away and Steve was stuck to something. It was a drinking straw. He cried against the gag as he tumbled through the air. Everything slowed to a stop and he was upside down, hovering over the opening of one of his own mother's high heels. Steve wobbled on the end of the three foot diameter drinking straw as Linda lowered him into the high heel.

 

 

 

The smell here was overpowering and backing it was a hint of ammonia. Steve's eyes burned and he was begging Linda incoherently. Soon Steve passed through the twilight, sailing like an astronaut on a spacewalk into the dark depths of the gigantic shoe.

 

 

 

"Right there, Steven! Taste it."

 

 

 

Steve cried out as his face and chest touched down against the hot and wet floor. He squeezed his eyes shut and began bawling as he was bodily scraped against the nasty surface. He couldn't shut his lips around his gag and he paid for it dearly. The waste from his mother's foot, distilled perspiration and gluey funk coated his face and chest, but it made itself known most poignantly around his vulnerable mouth.

 

 

 

"Do you want me to leave you here, Steve? Do you think mommy would find you? Too bad."

 

 

 

He was raised and then he flew backwards. He blinked in the bright light. Linda's vast face was grinning delightedly. Steve began struggling and burbling as the beautiful nose lowered close to him. She did not rake him into a monstrous nostril. Linda did however sniff him cautiously and her head recoiled, making a terrible and genuine face of disgust.

 

 

 

"Good God. That's just foul."

 

 

 

Steve could hear his mother's voice. Linda's fingertips blurred up at him and he was pinched roughly between them and torn away from the plastic armature. She released him down into a pair of white shoes next to her own expensive sandals. The fingernail nudged him backwards and the shoe tilted. Steve rolled uncontrollably into the toe of it before slamming into the wall at the end of the toe section. He could hear Linda's response, but it immediately faded, and it was clouded over by the sound of her thunderous footsteps.

 

 

 

Steve was alone. He tried to spit the funk out of his mouth. He tried to blow it forcefully off of the gag and the insides of his lips. He couldn't do it. He was helpless like this. Steve shut his stinging eyes and willed his heart to slow. Linda would not put him in any real danger. Steve just had to hold on and survive this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They had gone from room to room, Bethany taking at least three pictures from the furthest, most explanatory vantage she could find. Linda noticed that the woman's demeanor was off. She looked tired and the smalltalk was not consistent, either nonexistent or suddenly warm and active as if Bethany were trying to make up for unintended laxity. Steve's disappearance had worn on her.

 

 

 

"I'd like to get some pictures of the backyard."

 

 

 

"Oh, sure!"

 

 

 

They both went to the foyer.

 

 

 

"The backyard is a little bit rough. You look like you might wear a size eight or nine, right?"

 

 

 

Bethany smiled, "eight and a half."

 

 

 

"Why don't you wear these white rubber ones I have? They're brand-new. They're from Germany, they're basically after work shoes. Americans buy these because they're so comfortable and wear them all the time. But, they're supposed to be treats for after work and on the weekends. Most of them are made of leather, but they have this line that's cheaper, rubber with cork insoles. I really like this company."

 

 

 

"Oh, thank you, but…"

 

 

 

"You're going to have problems in those high heels, you're going to wreck them back there. Really, I want you to wear them! You might like them! I haven't worn them yet, so don't worry about that. If you do like them I can give you the information on them."

 

 

 

Bethany smiled.

 

 

 

"Okay, you've convinced me, Linda."

 

 

 

Linda took them up carefully and placed them on the carpet. She held on to them as Bethany slipped her feet into them. Linda put the response away, willing her face to continue to be neutral, gracious. She could feel Bethany wiggle her toes through the white rubber of the shoes. Linda stood and retrieved her own sandals.

 

 

 

"Oh, these are nice!"

 

 

 

"They're little bit like those one shoes people wear, I can't remember the name, but restaurant workers wear them a lot. Except the foot bed of these are shaped really nicely, aren't they?"

 

 

 

Bethany shifted her weight from foot to foot and wiggled her toes again with a smile.

 

 

 

"I really like them. Hmm. I think there's something in one of them? Yeah. Right there."

 

 

 

"Oh, don't worry about it, Bethany. It's probably a little packet of fragrance. It's supposed to be in there. There should be two of them, but I haven't been able to find the other one. Probably lost in the tissue of the shoebox. Go ahead and play with it," Linda grinned, "it will make your toes smell divine, I'm sure! I like to play with them sometimes, but be careful, it's some sort of a paper satchel, like a tiny tea bag. If you squash it too much you might tear it open and you'll never get the little pieces of potpourri out of the mesh of your pantyhose. Believe me, I've tried, it's like resin dust. Besides that little accident, I just love European shoes!"

 

 

 

The two women smiled at each other before Linda led her out onto the back deck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda's hand-model-perfect thumb appeared and pressed in against the wall of the shoe where a normal sized person's heel would rest. The mighty thumb bulged as it prepared to take the weight of Steve's prison. Then he was airborne, his stomach fluttered and he was tossed around, a limbless, tightly rolled rug of a shape, not optimal for the deck of a fishing boat in a storm, especially not for the featureless floor of a giant shoe listing in midair.

 

 

 

The strangely shaped room he lay in drooling touched down with a rumble and the ample thumb disappeared. Steve could spy beyond the heel's wall a sliver of the foyer's reality. There was movement from there and then the broad circle of light cast by the shoe's opening dimmed.

 

 

 

Something was moving, Steve felt the air around him thicken as it piled up in the end of the shoe. Then, there was a shape which blotted out most of the light as it lowered. Five enormous toes touched down and began to slide forward, filling the shoe with the scent of sweat and feminine pheromones and stink. Steve was screaming as his mother's toes flexed and writhed, seeking purchase, seeking to fill the now suddenly too small shoe.

 

 

 

The enormous, thick toes rushed in and Steve was twitching, grimacing around the silk gag and the filth. The net covered pad of the long second toe lowered onto him. It was almost as wide as he was tall. He was smashed harshly and it's wet stink was massaged into him as the toes all flexed repeatedly, seating themselves home. The second toe's bulging flesh seems to flow over his tiny form and it rested on him for a moment. Steve was screaming, his face pressed into his own mother's slimy skin.

 

 

 

The toe raised, arching upwards, peeling away from his tiny face, allowing Steve to properly hyperventilate in the stink. Then it was back and he was smashed beneath it for a moment, it felt him, running down his tiny form. It pet him again and then raised. The shoe tilted violently and Steve tumbled away to a new spot. Something huge lowered and claimed him beneath it. It could only be one thing, the big toe. It pressed down and Steve heard his own vertebrae pop as the air was pushed from him.

 

 

 

He could hear voices outside his maternal hell. The enormous digit rolled him around like a piece of lint, toying with him daintily. It rapidly scooted him in one direction and then it was gone. The probing and punishing toes suddenly pressed to the sole. Steve was caught and taken up between what could only be the bottom trough of hot, wet flesh of her big toe and it's smaller sister. They squeezed gently into him, cradling him in a tomb of rank feminine colossus.

 

 

 

His mother knew he was here. She had to. Steve could see them in his mind, towering crazily upwards, omnipotent and smiling casually. Linda was demonstrating, poor tiny Mike just a sliver grasped by the unnaturally clean and strangely attractive curves of her toe crevices. Steve's mother was following right along with Linda's subtle toe movements, nodding as she became more confident, clandestinely touching herself, a hungry smile and flared nostrils, when Linda had bent to praise her own tiny boy.

 

 

 

The pair of rank, fleshy sisters squeezed into him and then clinched. Steve's face was dragged across the net festooned wall and luckily some of the filth was scraped away from his lips and his gag. She was teasing him, trying to arouse him, he knew it. She clenched again and Steve's tiny head once again wandered intimately across his mother's anatomy. He came away with a mouthful of sweat. Steve spit it out as he sobbed. But it had wet his mouth and he couldn't help but taste it. He was tasting his own goddess sized mother. He was tasting her rank compost pile tang. His mouth burned. She was all around him, unstoppable, soft, sweaty and he was fragile, completely powerless.

 

 

 

As his cock came slowly to life Bethany scrunched him again and then her toes writhed up and down, rolling his tiny stick-like form between them. With a final scrunch the toes parted. Steve slowly slid down the side of the massive big toe. Everything became violence, deafening sound and unpredictable movement. His mother must have been frustrated with him. She did not make him cum, even though she had followed Linda's instructions to the letter. Where was she taking him? Would she be angry at him? Would he ever see Jesse again?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Yeah, you're right. The backyard needs some work. But, in my experience, there are a lot of new parents that would just love this. Not everyone, though. While it doesn't raise the property's value, it can be a enticing asset to the right people. You just never know."

 

 

 

Linda had her hands in her back pockets. She was worried about Steve. Linda had gone too far, she knew it now. Was she a sociopath? Standing here next to Steve's mother while she watched, feigning ignorance, as little Steve lost his mind underneath his mommy's toes. Or worse. Was she psychotic? Borderline personality? They were people once. Bethany was proof of that. Linda wanted to rescue him. All she had to do was set him down in the craft room and turn on the microphone. She didn't have to do this. Not this, not this far.

 

 

 

"Your name seems familiar to me. It keeps bothering me somehow. Are you in politics? Is your husband?"

 

 

 

"I'm recently divorced. I was a defense attorney. The firm I worked bought me out. It's being absorbed by a big national conglomerate. Since I was a founding partner I had options. I took the money and got out."

 

 

 

"No, that wouldn't be it. No offense, but you don't have that unique of a name. I don't know why it keeps bothering me. Do you have any children?"

 

 

 

"My son… Yes, I have a son. Mike. But…"

 

 

 

Bethany's eyes grew huge and her whole face fell into sorrow.

 

 

 

"Oh... My... God... Mike Johnson! You're! I'm sorry, Linda, I'm so so sorry! I'm…"

 

 

 

"Miss Wilson? Bethany? What's wrong?"

 

 

 

The woman dropped her head and hugged the camera to her breast. Linda came up and touched her on the arm gently. Bethany pivoted towards her and hugged her tightly. Her voice was quavering and broken.

 

 

 

"Mike, our sons are roommates! I'm Steve Wilson's mother! Oh, Linda!"

 

 

 

They held onto each other. Linda stared out from Bethany's shoulder into the tree line, tears running freely down her face as they clung to each other in the backyard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They went inside and Linda made some coffee for them. It was difficult. They discussed the ongoing case, talking about what little the detectives had let on about. Linda tried to console her, being tender, sharing a hand and a shoulder. Bethany kept lapsing into tears.

 

 

 

"I don't know how you can be so strong. I try, I really do. It's just not knowing. If I just knew, well…"

 

 

 

"Well, my job, well, it usually wasn't pleasant. It's not like I was a police officer or paramedic or something… you know, like a firefighter. Still, it toughens you up being around so much tragedy and misfortune. I'm not always like this. Look, Bethany, I'm sure wherever Steve is he's thinking about you. That's what helps me when I think about… with Mike."

 

 

 

"I have a prescription. I had to! I can't just not work! I have to keep going, no matter what!"

 

 

 

The conversation intentionally turned to different things. They both wanted it to steer away from the obvious. Bethany seemed to genuinely gather strength from Linda's resolve and demeanor. She knew it was all right to not fixate on the wound, on the void suddenly in her life.

 

 

 

Before Linda could come up with a covering excuse or an action Bethany had slipped off the white rubber shoes. She raised one to her face and she peered into it, her index finger probing the depths.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Crunching, the squeal of monstrous flesh against rubber. Steve knew they were outside from the unpredictable blasts of green-scented air. His mother's two most mobile toes took turns with him, mocking him with their enormity, pressing and playing with him.

 

 

 

Steve didn't realize that anyone besides Linda had such control. The monumental toes would press him beneath them and then perversely rub themselves over his tiny form before spreading and capturing him lengthwise between their hot, wet and rank walls. They would hold him there, cradled and sealed within the stifling and clammy flesh. Then he would be cast away, the wind knocked out of him as he was dropped to the shoe's sole again.

 

 

 

The big toe would lower, blindly probing the darkness as it hunted for his tiny form. Then, the monstrous enormity would finally brush over him and Steve would be known to her. Steve would plead directly into the mesh covered sticky ridges with his tiny lips as the digit dominated him, smashing and smearing him beneath it before rolling him like a tiny and thin length of taffy against it's rounded, muscular bulk. Over and over again, his mother's huge stinky toes delicately and precisely mauled him. At one point Steve realized his cock had been freed from between the silken ropes. His mother was at it again, the aggressive second toe stroked down his tiny length, but this time she was touching his bared genitals. In almost no time his mother had hardened him up.

 

 

 

The big toe took over. Of course it did, thought Steve, his mother was obviously under Linda's instructions. The whole thing was a sham. Why didn't they just take him out and play with him properly? Was his mother being demure? That was no way for a smiling, jeering mountain to act. What was she frightened of? Was she ashamed?

 

 

 

The big toe tenderly ravaged him beneath it until he came. Then he was gathered up again and ground punishingly in her monstrous crevice. Of course. Punish the bug for the actions of the titaness. Typical Linda. When was his mother going to give up the pretense and take him home?

 

 

 

The enormous toes dropped him like a tiny piece of trash to the sole of the shoe. As before, Steve could not catch himself with his arms bound tightly to his body. He lay stunned from the smelly toe's rejection. There was a violent movement and Steve heard a swishing, suction of a noise. There was suddenly more light and the toes wiggled as the foot spasmodically left the shoe.

 

 

 

Here it comes. She was going to be smug. It would be her and Linda. They would laugh at him.

 

 

 

He watched as his mother's palm collided with the shoe's opening. Steve skittered backwards as the shoe lifted, filling it with cool air. Steve could see a gigantic eye, it peered inward. This was not Linda.

 

 

 

"I'm sorry, but it's just bothering me. That doesn't look like a satchel. What is that?"

 

 

 

An enormous finger swept in and began to dab against the sweaty cork floor. Steve tried to wiggle, but he was absolutely and completely spent. Not much movement had been available to him before his mother's toes had began to squeeze and press the life out of him. The enormous shoe tilted and Steve rolled tumbling like a log to the heel.

 

 

 

"That is definitely not a satchel. What is that? Is that some sort of a worm?"

 

 

 

Fingertips surrounded him and they fumbled, fighting against their own enormous girth as they sought to pick him up. As they battered him and rolled him around uselessly Steve caught glimpses of his mother. Her face was enormous and drastically foreshortened. She looked stern and that caused Steve's tiny penis to flinch. There was somehow something erotic about being tiny underneath the angry, haggard yet so familiar face. Perhaps mommy would punish him some more? Part of Steve hoped so.

 

 

 

The monstrous fake nails closed on him and squeezed too hard. The air was forcibly pushed from his lungs. He was raised up out of the shoe. He floated for a moment in front of his mother's stern face before she lowered him to her palm. Steve was dropped the last ten feet. He saw stars. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't get his diaphragm to kick over, to cycle in. Steve lay there as a huge fingertip prodded him.

 

 

 

"That's not a worm. I don't know what-"

 

 

 

Linda was laughing. It was obviously her.

 

 

 

"Oh! That's where that went! Bethany, remember the little houses my ex-husband was building for his stupid expensive train set? That is the girl! She's all tied up. Get it? She's supposed to go on the tracks. I've still got the villain, I was just missing her! See the bonnet? The little blue end? That's her bonnet. My husband wasn't very good at painting."

 

 

 

Steve watched in horror as his mother started laughing at him. He was deafened by it, and her fingernail tapped him, almost breaking some ribs as it scooted him across her expansive palm. Bethany's enormous index fingertip slammed down over him and pressed downwards. Steve's joints popped as the long bones of his tiny form flexed. Steve's tiny face was smashed hard against his mother's finger flesh, his nose bent sideways and he felt like his jaw was about to dislocate under the monstrous weight and pressure. All of this happened in an instant as Steve's mother sought to pick up and examine the tiny thing in the easiest of ways: it's insignificant weight versus a tacky fingertip.

 

 

 

Steve was no longer in his mother's palm. The enormous digit rotated and out of the corner of his eye Steve could see the intimately familiar face of his mother rushing downwards. He started to tremble as he was confronted by an enormous green eye. His mother was an incalculably huge goddess now. Steve felt so humbled by her. He felt strangely empty, as if his mother had somehow left him alone or abandoned him. That was the unbridgeable gulf of her enormity. Steve was a trinket, a toy, a one to seventy-second facsimile plastered face down to the index fingertip of an overworked, middle-aged realtor who did not recognize him as anything other than some kind of worm.

 

 

 

"I had that up between my toes! I thought it was what you told me, Linda! I was trying to freshen up!"

 

 

 

Bethany's enormous thumb pad impacted down over Steve. She was laughing as she rolled him in the plump vice of her frightening fingers. Steve was screaming but his mother did not hear him over the sound of her own thunderous laughter. The thumb tilted back away from the index finger so Bethany could look at him one more time. Vomit mingled with piss glistened from Steve's tightly wrapped form and from the huge thumb pad he was stuck to.

 

 

 

"That doesn't look like a tied up maiden to me. It looks more like a little worm with a funny colored head. God, Linda, I've made it all sticky!"

 

 

 

Steve was smashed into the palm and forcibly rolled beneath his mother's enormous thumb tip as she smeared him off of her. It was exactly like her big toe dominating him, except this digit was clean and did not stink at all. Steve was still screaming but he was so tiny and distant his mother couldn't hear it, or she did not care. As Steve was freed from Bethany's punishing thumb there he understood something: his mother had not known about him at all. This was not some cruel artifice perpetrated by the female colossi. Linda's beautiful fingertips quickly and gently took possession of him. Steve realized that he had missed her. Even up close one would be hard-pressed to find something grotesque on her endless expanse of skin. She smelled good too. Steve was gently enclosed in her fist and he closed his eyes. He was safe for now.

 

 

 

Bethany left after a bit, giving Linda a long hug. Linda felt better about the whole thing. She was a strong woman and coping well with her son's disappearance. She was persevering and was even capable of a laugh. Indomitable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda had him pinned, but it was only against her thigh, and her finger was still gentle, more covering him than pressing down.

 

 

 

"Did you like your guest? How was it, Steven? Did she play with you with her nasty toes?"

 

 

 

The tiny head nodded.

 

 

 

"Did you like that, Steven?"

 

 

 

He hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

 

 

 

"You did? Well, maybe I'll tell your mommy that. Would you like that?"

 

 

 

Again, he nodded. Linda frowned and reached over, picking up the jewelers loupe. She pinched him up gently and look into his face. He was trembling, eyes wide, occasionally he would shut them for a moment, but not for long before he would twitch and they would snap open again. There was no horror. It had been consumed by what now lived just under the surface. Linda had finally broke him enough. She removed the eyepiece and studied him.

 

 

 

"Did you go crazy in there, Steven?"

 

 

 

There was a long hesitation and then he slowly nodded.

 

 

 

"You'll get better. If you ever hurt Jesse again I'll squish you. Do you understand?"

 

 

 

He nodded.

 

 

 

"Your mother doesn't know about you, Steven. You were right there, she punished you for me and she didn't even know. Do you know why? I know why. It's pretty simple. Do you want me to tell you?"

 

 

 

Steve nodded.

 

 

 

"You're a bug. You're just a bug! A tiny nothing, that's all. That's why."

 

 

 

Steve stared at her blankly from what she could tell.

 

 

 

"I have a new home for you. I think you'll like it. Come on, I'll show you."

 

 

 

Linda carried him to her bedroom and opened her palm. It had a green frame, there was a little silo, little barn and delicate windmill. They were off to one side. It looked like ants had been already working soil into tunnels. But these tunnels were twice the size at least of what any ant outside of the Amazon River Basin could do. At the very bottom there was a little chamber that several of the tunnels joined too. Linda had drilled a hole through the transparent plastic here and had plugged it with a nipple-like silicon plug she had found from her ex-husband's novelty purchase of an electronic cigarette. The chamber was lined with organic cotton.

 

 

 

Linda opened the little door and tilted the heavy, brown sandy plaster filled ant farm sideways. She slipped tiny Steve inside carefully using her fingernails. She slowly turned it up right as he tumbled along with the angle. Linda set the ant farm back down on her end table. There were little steps which spanned the side of the forks between some of the intersecting tunnels which she had formed and deftly straightened with the jeweler's files. Little Steve could go anywhere. Except outside of the confines of the green frame.

 

 

 

He stood slack in front of the two-dimensional green plastic barn, staring at it. He was deafened by several loud reports which shook everything. Steve turned in time to see Linda withdraw her finger. She smiled prettily and pinched her nipples. Steve watched as the huge being masturbated as she smiled. She had supplanted everything he could see unless he shut his eyes, or turned to look out the other side at the fireplace or the African statues in the corner.

 

 

 

Steve stood there, listless and unmoving as he watched her. He didn't explore at all. Steve laid down there, in front of the fake barn and curled up. The eyes of the colossus bored into him as she began to sweat.

 

 

 

When he shut his eyes all he could see were his mother's high heels. They were playing with him as he struggled to get away. She knew just what to do with them, just what he liked, just how to move, how to tease his soft and tiny body, how to saunter sexily after him as he ran from their wonderful thunder. Steve had hid a little of his mother from Linda. He savored her taste in his mouth, trying to memorize it. Steve clasped his penis in a hand and stroked slowly as he lay there with his eyes shut. He should be in her high heel with her, going home. He should be there, where he belonged, or underneath of her where she could monitor him with tiny movements of those beautifully tall symbols of authority and sex.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14: Miss D.S.S. by V11

 

"No, Bethany, I insist! Just let me throw on some clothes and I'll be right out. No, that's not safe! Just wait for me and I'll follow you. You do not want to be stranded out here, even if it is between the highway and my house. That's too far to be walking on a gravel road in the dark. You're in those high heels too. Give me twenty minutes. Okay. Goodbye."

 

 

 

The phone call had interrupted Linda's self gratification. Bethany's transmission was acting funny, she said it was slipping, whatever that meant. Linda quickly threw on sweatpants and a tee-shirt before grabbing her essentials and making her way out to the garage.

 

 

 

The phone call had woken Steve as well. He watched as the shiny demoness hurried around and then disappeared of the bedroom. A few minutes later Steve heard the garage door and he knew that she had left. He wished he was with his mother, even at an inch tall. That wasn't right, Steve frowned, he felt changed, like there were new pieces added to him, or perhaps familiar things taken away suddenly. He wished he was with his mother, especially now, at an inch in height. Did he? Or was he in shock?

 

 

 

Steve couldn't figure it out. He had seen his mother today, touched her, even tasted her, and it was grotesque and terrifying, life altering. He wasn't himself. But that was sort of the problem. He hadn't been himself for quite a while now, he had been an inch tall. But it wasn't really about him. His mother had always tasted like that, had always created stench-filled shoes, had always liked to play with things idly with her toes. She was herself, and he had merely been introduced to her again today in a completely different way.

 

 

 

Steve's head hurt. He was completely stiff and so sore he was somewhat crippled. He slowly shambled back and forth across the ant farm's surface several times and then he decided to explore one of the tunnels. He made his way downward slowly and he checked each tunnel to it's end, limping and often pausing. He felt like he was in a gigantic museum sculpture. On one hand the tunnels seemed very realistic but then again one could tell they had been sculpted by a human being, ultimately a passable but lacking imitation of the real thing. Steve's muscles began to warm up and his limp became less pronounced. He found the large chamber that was partially filled with cotton bedding. This would be much nicer than sleeping curled up on the rock-hard sand next to the ornamental farm.

 

 

 

He thought about laying down, but there was one tunnel left to explore. Steve made his way down it and the tunnel opened up into a much smaller chamber. The back wall of the chamber was the green frame of the ant farm's outer structure. The frame had not been pressed together properly here, there was a large opening! Steve trotted painfully to the green plastic wall and peered outwards. The crack was asymmetrical, much wider at the bottom than at the top. This had to be the lower left corner of the ant farm's frame.

 

 

 

Steve dropped onto his stomach and shimmied partially out of the opening. He could fit through! He could get out of this prison! Stupid Linda, stupid gigantic bimbo Linda. Steve looked downward, trying to see if there was any way physically possible to make it to the tabletop. He was going to have to be careful, he was very, very sore. It looked like there just might…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda followed her closely. Bethany's sport utility seemed to not be able to attain a speed higher than about thirty miles an hour. Thankfully Linda's house was only some seven miles from highway. Soon they pulled in and Bethany parked at the end of the driveway as Linda had asked. Linda had phoned the local mechanic as she drove to meet Bethany and he would be around first thing in the morning with his tow-truck. The women made their way into the house. Bethany forgot to take off her high heels at the door, her arms full of laptop bag, purse and client files.

 

 

 

"You can put your things anywhere! You know, like I said, you don't have to call a cab, Bethany. It's a big house! I have plenty of room."

 

 

 

"I don't want to impose, really."

 

 

 

"Would you like some wine?"

 

 

 

"I don't know, I'm not supposed to mix the mood elevator with alcohol."

 

 

 

"Well, you're definitely not driving anywhere. If you experience a little bit of memory loss, well, I think that's to be expected while drinking wine, don't you? Come on! It's Friday night and you're stranded in a nice country home with a woman who has a thing about expensive wines! What do you say?"

 

 

 

"Alright! You twisted my arm! I'll stay too, if it's really no problem for you?"

 

 

 

"Not at all, I would love the company."

 

 

 

They finished the first bottle quickly and Linda let Bethany pick the next one out of her wine refrigerator. They were well through that one and they were both quite buzzed. They really seemed to enjoy each others company. Bethany was genuinely funny and could match Linda's knack for storytelling and human insight. They were close to the same age and both struggling to find their way as intelligent single women in a world still tainted around the edges by misogyny.

 

 

 

Another hour had passed and another bottle of wine.

 

 

 

"Well, I'll be right back," Linda said, and got up from the kitchen table.

 

 

 

Bethany took another sip. The wine was wonderful. She smiled at Linda's last story and finished her glass. Bethany got up and went to the bathroom, but Linda was already in it.

 

 

 

"Oh, you beat me to it!"

 

 

 

"Sorry!"

 

 

 

"Do you mind if I use the other one?"

 

 

 

"Go right ahead! You know where it is, don't you?"

 

 

 

"Right-hand wall, in the back of the room," Bethany replied over her shoulder as she made her way back through the house.

 

 

 

Linda nodded and smiled as she was on the toilet. Then her face dropped.

 

 

 

"Shit! Bethany? Bethany! Well, shit!"

 

 

 

Linda pushed the urine out of her as hard as she could. But, she had been drinking for quite a while now. It hurt and Linda made a face.

 

 

 

"Come on, come on, come on!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve was fucked. He had made his way out of his prison, completely untouched, completely safe. But now he found himself trapped on the gigantic rectangular island of dark tabletop. There was no way he could lower himself down the lamp's cord. He would not be able to get his arms around it sufficiently, and it was a scary drop to the carpet below. Steve paced for an hour trying to come up with some sort of a plan. He knew there was probably a drawer on the front of this thing, but from the edge he could not even see a handle. He didn't think he could drop the hundred feet or so to the carpet. Physics did not work like that. Steve knew how small he was, he knew how careful Linda was with his tiny form and even then she put him in almost constant danger.

 

 

 

He was fucked, plain and simple. Linda was going to find him here and punish him. He shuddered at the thought. Linda had never liked him very much. Steve curled up against one of the the green plastic legs of the immense ant farm and waited, eventually falling asleep.

 

 

 

Steve was awakened by the thunderous footsteps. He twitched and pulled his legs in to his chest. The footsteps were in the room now. This did not sound like Linda. Linda was always barefoot, these footsteps were louder and the tremors from them were much sharper. Steve was frantic, unable to make a decision. Should he look? Should he stay hidden? He debated each course of action but the footsteps changed cadence. They had come closer to where he was hidden, but they had grown slower, like they were expressing trepidation.

 

 

 

Steve peered around the plastic leg and spotted movement at a distance. Sexy black high heels, familiar heels! Steve jumped to his feet with a shout, a huge smile on his face. He ran out from his hiding spot as the tremors became dire and then stopped. In front of him and above him was his own mother. The pleats of her skirt swayed beyond the table's edge, and above him was her enormous head, lowered and peering into the ant farm. Steve waved his arms, jumping up and down.

 

 

 

"Mother! Down here! Mother!"

 

 

 

Bethany heard something, like a tired, almost spent shred of a voice, a tiny piece of talk show from a radio a half-mile down the beach. She stepped back and looked down.

 

 

 

Bethany let out a loud shriek and jumped backwards from it. Her first impression was of a pale spider. Then she realized something crazy. It was unmistakable. It was a person. An impossibly tiny person, the sound came from it, the tiny thing waved even tinier arms as it looked up at her.

 

 

 

Steve was confronted by his mother's enormous face as it lowered over him. Her eyes were huge and the color had drained from her. Her wine laden breath warmed his naked skin and his cock grew hard.

 

 

 

"Oh, it's good to see you! Oh, mom! Take me home, please!"

 

 

 

She smiled, dumbfounded and blinking. Her enormous voice rolled over him, he could feel it across his skin and it tickled his cock.

 

 

 

"Oh my God! Are you real?"

 

 

 

Steve came up to the edge of the table and stretched his arms out towards her. He hazarded a quick look down, there were those feet encased in his mother's classic dominators. Steve didn't want to appear eager, and though it was difficult to tear his gaze away from them, he did. As he watched his mother's face lowered until she was level with him. She was wearing lipstick. Steve knew what that was like, what that would take, for her he would gladly go through the horror and discomfort. Maybe it wouldn't even be horror? One of her hands touched her gaping mouth lightly in shock. Steve knew, women could be so subtle, but he could read the signs now. Linda had taught him quite a lot. He would let his mother initiate her play with her lipstick. That's what she was hinting at right now. Steve would feign ignorance, he would make sure that Linda's training would be legitimate, that his mother would do these things all on her own without Steve's help.

 

 

 

His enormous mother smiled and then she giggled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. An enormous finger reached out and hesitated. Steve was reaching for it, but he didn't want to fall off the edge of the table. He could only do so much, she would have to come to him.

 

 

 

Bethany seemed to steel herself again and brought the fingertip to the tiny being.

 

 

 

That was all Steve needed. Her flesh smelled like wine and fried chicken as he tried to wrap his arms around her fingertip. His mother's eyes grew wide, almost like horror, but her mouth said differently. Steve hiked one tiny leg up and gained purchase. He was off the table completely, clinging to his mother's digit.

 

 

 

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Linda!"

 

 

 

"There is no need to shout, Bethany."

 

 

 

Linda came up and peered over Bethany's shoulder as she sat down a large antique perfume bottle onto the end table next to the ant farm.

 

 

 

Bethany cupped her hand beneath her fingertip and turned to smile at Linda.

 

 

 

"Am I hallucinating? Linda? How is this even possible? It's... It's… A person! An adorable little person!"

 

 

 

"He is adorable, isn't he? He's been a bad boy recently, he was supposed to be in the ant farm as a punishment."

 

 

 

"It's a he? This can't be possible!"

 

 

 

Bethany had brought her hands up closer to her face and smiled as the tiny naked thing clung to her fingertip.

 

 

 

"Oh, it's possible, Bethany. Would you like to speak with him? We can do that, you know. Would you like to see him much better?"

 

 

 

Bethany turned, her mouth agape.

 

 

 

"Of course! My God, Linda, this is just amazing!"

 

 

 

Linda knelt down next to the end table and reached underneath of her bed. She pulled out a tall plastic case and put it on her bed spread. She carefully picked up the bottle of perfume and held it close to her as she tugged up the plastic case.

 

 

 

"Put him in your palm, nice and carefully and then close your fingers over him, but be careful, they're very fragile."

 

 

 

"They, Linda? There are more of them?"

 

 

 

Linda looked perturbed, "just put him in your hand, Bethany. Let's go get another bottle of wine. You know where it's at. Why don't you grab another zinfandel, hmm?"

 

 

 

Linda followed Bethany into the kitchen and took the bottle of wine from her. Linda opened it with the electric cork remover. Bethany followed her back to the craft room. Linda set down the bottle of wine and the plastic case.

 

 

 

"I'll be right back, we need our glasses."

 

 

 

Bethany nodded and then opened up her fist, she was smiling down at the tiny man as he reached imploringly up at her face. There were tiny whispers of sounds tumbling out of him but she couldn't understand. Linda was quickly back with the wine glasses and sat them down.

 

 

 

Linda picked up the plastic case and put it down next to the laptop, unlatching it. She sat down at the computer desk and turned on the laptop.

 

 

 

"Oh my God! I still can't believe it!"

 

 

 

"Why don't you put him down there, Bethany? Yes, right there."

 

 

 

"How, Linda? Did you find him somewhere? Who is he?"

 

 

 

Linda started a program and then swiveled in her chair to face Bethany. She fiddled with her phone for a moment and typed something into it. There were sounds outside the craft room, metallic clicks that seem to race through the house, Bethany jumped as a loud, strong sounding click issued from the window at the far end of the room.

 

 

 

"Now we're locked in here."

 

 

 

Bethany's eyebrows furrowed as she evaluated Linda.

 

 

 

"Why, Linda? I'm staying the night. You don't think… I won't tell anybody, I swear!"

 

 

 

"No, you won't. Do you want to talk to him now? Would you like to talk to the teeny tiny man?"

 

 

 

"Linda, I… I don't… Why are you angry at me?"

 

 

 

"Don't you want to talk to him?"

 

 

 

"Yes. Of course I do! Can we see him? That's a camera, isn't it?"

 

 

 

Linda nodded. She looked away for a moment at the laptop and punched a button.

 

 

 

"If you talk we can hear you now, sweetie pie."

 

 

 

The voice came over the laptop's speakers, rich but not quite a full signature, missing most of the bottom end, the bass, still it sounded quite good all things considered.

 

 

 

"Linda?"

 

 

 

"Yes, sweetie."

 

 

 

"I know what you're going to do. But, I want something before that. I want you to put me down on the floor! You know I can't go anywhere! There is thick carpet in here, isn't there? I want you to put me on the floor, goddammit! Right in front of… her. It's such a wonderful view, Linda! It's such a better view than you! Come on, I'll put a smile on your face. Isn't that all you ever wanted from me? Please, Linda! Don't do anything until you put me on the floor! I won't talk to her. Until you do this for me! Do you hear me you great big sexy monster?"

 

 

 

"Really? You went crazy in there, didn't you?"

 

 

 

"Maybe I did. What did you expect? I don't care. I don't give a fuck about that. Put me on the floor. I want... her… I want her to play with me… I want… Play with me with your high heels! Show her, Linda! Show her how! I want her to be like you, but… I want her to be wearing her shoes. You get it, Linda? You didn't do this to me today… You said to enjoy the wonderful view… Oh my God, it was such a beautiful view! Put me on the floor! Right in front of her, on the floor!"

 

 

 

Linda started laughing, it grew and grew until she had tears in her eyes. She laughed for good minute and the look on Bethany's face caused her to almost double over with laughter.

 

 

 

Bethany's face was curled in disgust and she was glancing from Linda to the tiny being and back again. She was completely flustered, stunned.

 

 

 

"He's a little pervert!"

 

 

 

Linda's answering laughter was contagious and Bethany began to giggle. As the two women tittered the amplified voice kept trying to interject.

 

 

 

"Stop laughing at me! Come on! Pick me up, goddamn you! Put me down there!"

 

 

 

The laughter died away finally and Linda poured them each a glass of wine. She handed the glass off to Bethany and started drinking her own.

 

 

 

"Linda? Are you going to?"

 

 

 

"Come on! I'm waiting, hurry up! I want this, Linda, I've always wanted this. I figured it out today. Figured it out at the door. Hiding like a worm. So magnificent! I always wondered... wondered where that came from…"

 

 

 

Linda muted the laptop.

 

 

 

"Well, what do you think, Bethany? Our little friend wants you to play with him with your feet."

 

 

 

"I don't know, Linda. It's dirty! It's disgusting!"

 

 

 

Linda started laughing.

 

 

 

"It's not dirty, Bethany. Foot fetishes, shoe fetishes, those are some of the most common kinds of fetishes. Anything more common than those isn't even called a fetish, it's called normal."

 

 

 

Tears welled up in Bethany's eyes. It took Linda a moment to realize it. She was very puzzled and cocked her head.

 

 

 

"Bethany? What's wrong?"

 

 

 

"Steve… It's disgusting!"

 

 

 

There was a tiny tapping noise from the tabletop. The whimsically tiny young man was smashing a tiny brick against the microphone, imploring Linda to activate it.

 

 

 

"Tell me, right now. Okay?"

 

 

 

Bethany sobbed and she looked upwards as she blinked back tears.

 

 

 

"When Steve was a teenager I thought I was losing my mind. Money would end up missing out of my purse, he would run up the phone bill and I found out he was using my credit card to call… those phone sex… you know. But, sometimes I would leave for work and come home in the evening… My shoes in my closet had been moved, rearranged sometimes. I caught him… he didn't know, but… that's how I figured out why my shoes sometimes smelled like floor cleaner! He had been… he was trying to… clean his…"

 

 

 

The tapping stopped from the table. Linda stood up and hugged Bethany as the woman lost it. Linda held her and patted her back as she rocked gently back and forth trying to ease her.

 

 

 

"That was perfectly normal, Bethany. He was a young man. Think about how many people there are. Can you really expect that all of them are going to be the same? Steve was normal. Even if he wasn't normal, he was happy, wasn't he? Then, isn't that just as good if you love him? What's the difference? He wasn't hurting anyone. Unless you consider shoes to be people. Forget that. That was stupid."

 

 

 

Bethany started laughing, and as she constructed her scenario they both had problems staying on their feet, bawling with stupid, drunken and relieved mirth, "my poor shoes! They would call out to me, nervously... like sheep… They would give me such… accusing looks… They didn't want to be… they didn't want to be… left alone with… the shoe… rapist! I wanted to… build a little fence… for them… and electrify it! Or get a trained… shoe herding… dog!"

 

 

 

They had to break away from each other to keep from crashing into one of the tables in their mirth. Linda staggered over to the computer chair and Bethany ended up on the floor, her legs stretched out in front of her like she was about to exercise touching her toes.

 

 

 

They laughed for minutes, it hurt their stomachs and faces. They had problems looking at each other without increasing the contagion. Finally the laughter died away. Bethany had leaned back onto her arms, legs still relaxed out away from her.

 

 

 

"I loved that boy. But I never did understand. I miss him so much!"

 

 

 

Bethany frowned for a moment and then she giggled again. She stood back up and smoothed out her skirt. She pulled up a chair from the tables behind her and sat down, taking up her wine again.

 

 

 

"He said he won't talk to you until you do this."

 

 

 

"Why? I didn't understand most of what he said. He wants me to be like you? What does that mean? Have you ever… Do you… You know?"

 

 

 

"Play with him? Let me ask you, Bethany. Let's say you have found a tiny man and you know that you can't get him help. You know that the scientific community should know about it, but that what they would do to this tiny person… Well, you have to protect him, a life in a science lab is not much of a life. It would be better to being an inch tall and kept a secret than to ever end up in the hands of the authorities. Does that make sense?"

 

 

 

Bethany thought about it and nodded, "of course it does. Maybe they would have endless money to accommodate someone so tiny, but that would at be a terrible price. I guess it might even end with death. Governments are capable of some terrible things. Governments justify all sorts of stuff."

 

 

 

"So. You would be around this beautiful, vulnerable little thing constantly. Would you play with them, would you enjoy this teeny tiny adorable little person? Even if they protested sometimes? Everything they would do would be just so cute! Could you resist?"

 

 

 

Bethany looked over to where tiny Steve sat cross-legged near the edge of the table. Her face softened and a grin formed as she stared at him.

 

 

 

"No. I couldn't resist."

 

 

 

"What if they liked it? What if they wanted it?"

 

 

 

Bethany was smiling down at Steve, her eyes large and full of wonder.

 

 

 

"I would give them what they wanted, of course. Whatever that would be. The world must be terribly frightening for you, isn't it?"

 

 

 

Bethany lowered her finger towards him and then stopped.

 

 

 

"I'm afraid to touch him. His little arms and legs are thinner than toothpicks! I must look like such a monster."

 

 

 

"He is sometimes very terrified of me. He doesn't let on, though. He's a little tough guy, aren't you?"

 

 

 

"I want to see him! I want to talk to him!"

 

 

 

There was a tiny tapping from the table. Steve was slamming the brick down next to his knee.

 

 

 

"Oh, all right! I'll turn it back on!"

 

 

 

The speakers hummed to life again. The tiny thing came over to the microphone.

 

 

 

"You don't get to see me. You don't get to talk to me. Not until you play with me. I want you to enjoy it. Linda, you watch me. You watch and you think about it. You know what I want. This isn't an act. You know it isn't now, don't you? Only you can be careful enough with me, Linda. We both know that. So you let her in. She's nice, isn't she, Linda? You really like her, don't you? Share me. Don't act like a perfume saleslady, you know? That's all. Share me."

 

 

 

Linda rolled her chair over and lowered her face in front of him. She stared at him for a little while. He stared back.

 

 

 

"Linda rescued me. I would be dead without her. I don't remember what happened to make me like this. You will never ask me about this again. I want you to come and visit me whenever you can after this. But I don't remember what happened. All I know is that Linda keeps me safe and she knows how to handle me so I don't get hurt. You need to be careful with me and Linda will show you how. But, right now I want you to play with me with those sexy feet. That's the deal. Put me on the floor, Linda. I would like to have my… fantasy... now."

 

 

 

Linda softly captured him between her fingertips and lowered him to the carpet. She released him and he sat there on his haunches.

 

 

 

Steve's mother was magnificent. This was already so much better than this afternoon. She was looking at him, the enormous high heels sat motionless, sat in judgment of him. Steve began to crawl through the carpet on his stomach towards her closest foot.

 

 

 

"What's he doing, Linda? Can't he walk in the carpet?"

 

 

 

"He doesn't want to, Bethany. You are a goddess compared to him. Think about it. Think about what you look like right now. Think about what your feet look like to him. He wants you to be a goddess. He wants to worship you. You're now the goddess of high heels. Congratulations! You had better think about buying some more."

 

 

 

Bethany giggled and took a drink of her wine.

 

 

 

"I'm serious. He wants you to come over and play with him again after this. He wants you to dominate him with them."

 

 

 

"Linda? How do I do that?"

 

 

 

"I'm sorry sweetie, Bethany needs a demonstration and you know what I'm good at. Watch, Bethany. Move slowly and barely touch them. Never relax while you're touching them."

 

 

 

Linda reached out a beautiful foot and lowered it. She engulfed him underneath her big toe and let it rest there decisively. Bethany gasped.

 

 

 

"Linda!"

 

 

 

"I haven't hurt him at all. But I'm counting. Do you know why?"

 

 

 

Linda raised her big toe. Steve rolled over onto his back.

 

 

 

"Because I cut off his air. He could not breathe under there if he wanted to. I can be gentler than that. I can let him breathe. But you're wearing high heels. You're going to have to practice if you want him underneath you like that. I can feel it, I'm very good at that, very sensitive."

 

 

 

Linda withdrew her foot and plowed the nail of her big toe underneath of him. She tossed him with a lazy flick. Bethany was horrified. She reached down.

 

 

 

"Stop, Bethany. Sorry, sweetie. I'm trying to teach her, okay? You want to see her again like this, don't you? He is alright, Bethany. Maybe stunned a little, maybe I knocked the wind out of him. But he's fine. That isn't something you do very often. That's like being thrown from a horse. Your neck can get broken if you are unlucky."

 

 

 

Bethany wanted to scoop him up. She gave Linda a sad look.

 

 

 

"You're a bona fide goddess now. You can be gentle with him. But you have to be cold also. If you can't be a little bit of a bitch this isn't going to work."

 

 

 

"I don't know if I can… I don't know…"

 

 

 

"You don't get it, do you? You see him there? He's picked you. You're his goddess now, I'm just his caretaker."

 

 

 

"Linda, this isn't right. My son is… I... I can't... Maybe if things were different. But this is just so much, so strange! Why won't he let me…"

 

 

 

Steve was up on his feet. He hobbled closer to her.

 

 

 

"Nudge. He's walking. He's a bad boy, isn't he, goddess? Nudge him! Shouldn't he be licking your shoes? Wouldn't you like that? You work so hard all day, on your feet all day. Maybe you want to put him inside your shoe? Do something! Now!"

 

 

 

Bethany drained the wine glass and handed off to Linda.

 

 

 

"Look, you… Look."

 

 

 

Linda shook her head no and made a mock angry face.

 

 

 

"He's your toy. What do you do with toys, Bethany?"

 

 

 

"On your knees, worm!"

 

 

 

The beautiful high-heel sailed through the air and stopped just short of Steve. The rounded toe plowed forward and he staggered, pitching backwards into the carpet. Bethany was surprised that it took so little effort. Linda handed her back a full glass of wine. Bethany took a large drink of it.

 

 

 

"What have we here?"

 

 

 

The toe of the shoe lowered, the carpet swished and then crunched beneath it as it landed next to Steve. His mother nudged him with it, rolling him over. Bethany looked at Linda seeking her approval. Linda nodded vigorously and brought her hand up, using two fingers to make a running motion.

 

 

 

Bethany put her hands on her hips and slid her high heel's toe up against the tiny naked creature.

 

 

 

"Get up! Right now!"

 

 

 

Steve stood, trembling and stooped over. The enormous high heel that almost touched him began to tap on the ground sending tremors not just through his feet and lower legs but the air was pistoned out from the massive toe of the shoe, compressed, he felt it in throbbing waves. His tiny ear canals almost itched as his colossal mother's tapping high heeled foot pulsed out low-frequency sound in time with her impatience.

 

 

 

"You're a… You're a bad little boy! You want me to step on you, don't you? You don't? Why did Linda have you in that ant farm? You were bad, weren't you?"

 

 

 

The tip of the high heel nudged him backwards onto his ass. Bethany put her hands on her thighs and she bent over with a large grin.

 

 

 

"You better move it, unless you want me to crush you, little thing! Move it!"

 

 

 

Steve backed away on his ass through the dusty carpet. His mother's enormous high heel lifted slowly and floated over him. The shaft of the stiletto pierced the carpet ten feet in front of him and the entire arched structure rocked forward and touched down. He was underneath of his mother's high heel! Bethany twisted at the waist and giggled down at him.

 

 

 

"Oh, Linda! This is-"

 

 

 

Linda pointed down underneath of Bethany's high-heeled shoe and frowned disapprovingly. Bethany knew well enough and continued.

 

 

 

"Ahh, Little person, little tiny... boy... I thought I told you to RUN!"

 

 

 

The enormous high heel twisted as if she was putting out the cigarette. Steve got to his feet and struggled out from beneath of it as fast as he could go. His mother's deep booming laugh filled the air. Steve knew better than to go near Linda's long powerful toes. He veered to the left, skirting around her, he was painfully slow, deep impacts shook the surface he ran across.

 

 

 

Steve hazarded a look over his shoulder. The high heeled feet were moving, propelled by the massive calves which stretched up into the sky overhead and disappeared beneath the swaying skirt. His mother was chasing him at a leisurely, intentionally sexy walk.

 

 

 

"Where do you think you're going? Do you think you can get away from me?"

 

 

 

The high heel came down out of the sky in front of Steve and he almost slammed into it. His mother laughed delightedly and twisted the toe towards him using the stiletto as it's pivot. Steve was barely distant enough to avoid it and the motion forced him to go to his stomach for a moment. He made it back to his feet and took off. Where he had just been was blotted out by the other beautiful stiletto and the foot pivoted at the ankle, adjusting towards him before it, too, slammed earthward.

 

 

 

Bethany leisurely chased him around in a small circle, her casual saunter was relaxed and full of a subdued, drunken version of the catwalk flare of attitude. Linda could tell she was actually enjoying this quite a bit. Finally, tiny Steve had enough. He could go no further and doubled over as he panted. He had been through way too much the last several days.

 

 

 

His mother's high heel touched down gently next to him. Bethany shared a little smile with Linda before she gently knocked him off of his feet. Bethany nudged him with the shiny black wall the composed the prow, the toe of her shoe.

 

 

 

"Do you like my shoes, worm? Do you want me to squish you underneath of this? I... might do that. I will do that if you don't… lick! That's right! Lick!"

 

 

 

Steve gathered himself together on his hands and knees and threw himself across the toe of her shoe, arms outstretched. He began licking with abandon.

 

 

 

Bethany was smiling. She drained the wine glass and set it down on the table. She leaned forward over him and watched.

 

 

 

"Ooh! I like that! But…"

 

 

 

Bethany glanced up at Linda with a mischievous smile.

 

 

 

"You're not cleaning very well, are you? I have a remedy for that. You just don't have enough spit. But I do!"

 

 

 

Bethany brought two fingers up to her lips and removed the glob of saliva. Linda's eyebrows raised and she smiled, surprised. Bethany leaned down and wiped it onto the toe of her shoe. She hesitated, trying to figure out how to pick him up.

 

 

 

"No, no, no! I'll do it, I don't trust you, sorry, Bethany. You're drunk and you don't know what he can take."

 

 

 

Linda pinched Steve up between her fingertips and dabbed his naked body into the spittle before gently rubbing on the foot's arch side of the shoe. She came back for more saliva and rubbed him gently here and there.

 

 

 

"He's trembling, Bethany. He's very close. You're very close, aren't you, sweetie pie? I know just the place for you. The best part of this enormous sexy goddesses shoe."

 

 

 

Linda dabbed his front side again in his mother's saliva and then deposited him against the inside, flat height of the high heel's stiletto. Steve cried out and wrapped his tiny legs around it. He rubbed her saliva off of him onto the dense spire and forced his stiff cock through it, running it sideways across the spike as he hugged it to him, peppering it with kisses. He cried out as he came and then he clung to it, panting.

 

 

 

Bethany was fascinated and she snickered drunkenly. Linda was holding onto her leg, keeping it immobile.

 

 

 

"Now, tiny little…"

 

 

 

"No, Bethany. He's done. He's just a tiny little thing. You can't expect very much from him. I told you, you are a real goddess now. He's fragile and handling him, playing with him takes a lot out of him. He's just an inch tall, shoe Goddess."

 

 

 

Bethany grinned drunkenly at that. Linda carefully extricated the tiny Steve, she had to peel his tiny arms away from their grip on his mother's shoe. He did not want to leave. Linda whispered to him as she gently laid him on the table.

 

 

 

"You have to talk to her and let her see you now. You have to. It wouldn't be fair to any of us if you didn't."

 

 

 

"I can't wait! That was fun! I'm going to love this!"

 

 

 

"Bethany, I want you to put down your wine glass. Now, sit down on the floor. Move the chair back a little bit. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

 

 

 

"Come on! I want to see him and talk to him!"

 

 

 

"Now, Bethany, remember what he told you. He doesn't remember how he ended up like this and he trusts me to take care of him because I'm good at it. I pay attention and I am never distracted. I am so gentle and careful you wouldn't believe it. He wants me to be his caregiver. But he wants you…"

 

 

 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! I'm Miss Dominant Sexy Shoes, fine. Come on!"

 

 

 

"He wants me to be his caregiver, but he wants you to visit, he wants you to be his goddess. Don't forget that! I'm sorry, Bethany. I'm so sorry!"

 

 

 

Linda adjusted the camera and sat back in her chair. She waited until Bethany had calmed down. It was quick, considering Linda's serious face.

 

 

 

Linda pushed a button and the camera's view filled the monitor.

 

 

 

The figure was limping and out of focus. Bethany could see that he gleamed with her saliva. He limped stiffly closer and the auto-focus jumped past him, to him and then back out. Bethany gasped. She had seen his face for a split-second before it had blurred again. Then he was in focus. One hand lifted the blue-dyed bangs up out of his eyes and he was smiling happily.

 

 

 

"I love you so much, mom! Maybe that sounds wrong, but you made me so happy. You can't believe how happy you've made me!"

 

 

 

Bethany tried to scream, but nothing came out. One of her fake nails broke in half and popped off as her fingers sunk into the carpet as spasming claws. Then she slumped sideways, partially crushing an empty shipping box.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15: Injurious Ecstasy by V11

 

 

 

 

Linda knew tiny people's bodies and their limitations. Because of that she had tricks. She could keep one of them uncomfortable for hours until they lost their temper. Frighten the hell out of them in such a way that they would forget that the blonde titaness was actually exhibiting pragmatic caution.

 

 

 

Linda could play with one of them all day long. No matter what Linda had done to Steve he would always realize at some point that she had only traipsed slightly into danger with him before returning to her guardianship over his vulnerable form. Slightly into danger at one inch tall was often much too far.

 

 

 

Linda could get under their skin psychologically and make them feel tiny inside. That was the worst of her torments, in Steve's opinion, because then Linda would be magnified whenever you saw her or a piece of her. Someone over four hundred feet in height did not need to seem larger. But she could do it, and then the impact of her gargantuan and lovely physical presence was dreadfully humbling. If you weren't careful, if you didn't snap out of it, your view of the colossus and yourself would become warped.

 

 

 

Linda knew all of the particulars. Bethany did not. Steve's mother was raw, unfocused might.

 

 

 

Linda had shaken Bethany awake. She helped her sit upright as Bethany tried to figure out where she was. She was quite drunk but now she was in shock and had just suffered a nervous system overload.

 

 

 

"Bethany? Honey? Are you okay? Do you remember me?"

 

 

 

"I… Yeah, yeah. No, I'm fine, Linda. What happened?"

 

 

 

"You fainted. You don't remember?"

 

 

 

"Oh, I do. Wait a minute. Okay. I fainted? Okay."

 

 

 

"You need to sit here. I don't think you're completely out of it yet. Bethany? Hey!"

 

 

 

"Linda? Hi!"

 

 

 

Linda brushed her dark red hair out of her eyes and hovered there, her face full of concern.

 

 

 

"You awake yet?"

 

 

 

"Steve! Where is Steve?"

 

 

 

"He's on the table, Bethany."

 

 

 

Bethany tried to get up but Linda would not let her.

 

 

 

"Now, hold on there! Just stay here for a minute!"

 

 

 

Bethany looked around in a panic and then her eyes settled on to him. She started to try to get up again, but Linda had her hands on her shoulders and patted her. Bethany reached out a hand towards the tabletop.

 

 

 

"I want to see Steve! I want to see my baby!"

 

 

 

"I'll get him for you, Bethany! You just stay here, don't try to stand up, okay?"

 

 

 

"I want to see Steve, Linda! Oh, Steve! My tiny, tiny baby! Oh God, Linda!"

 

 

 

Linda walked on her knees over to the table. She carefully pinched him from feet to almost neck in her fingertips and turned. Linda spoke in a hushed tone.

 

 

 

"Bethany. Bethany? Listen to me now! You have to be careful with him, do you understand me? You could hurt him very easily."

 

 

 

"I want to see him! Please! Give him to me! I understand! Oh, my poor baby!"

 

 

 

Linda shuffled towards her and Bethany reached out in a pinch to take him out of her fingertips. Linda turned away, shielding him with her back and she looked over her shoulder at Bethany, her eyes wide with concern.

 

 

 

"No, Bethany! Don't do that! You'll hurt him really badly! Do you understand me? You have to be careful!"

 

 

 

"Okay! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Linda!"

 

 

 

Bethany held out her hand, fingers cupped to her palm. Linda looked at her with some concern for a moment, making sure that she really was awake and not still shaking off her shock. Then Linda slowly placed Steve into her hand.

 

 

 

"Go slowly, Bethany. Move slowly."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve was placed gently into his mother's palm. She was shaking slightly. Beyond the heel of her hand she loomed, eyes huge, face wet and red cheeked. Her makeup had drained away beyond her lower eyelids and looked like someone had been mixing watercolors there to find the right hue before abandoning Bethany's face for a more proper surface.

 

 

 

The enormous hand moved unevenly, a drunken magic carpet which flew Steve towards the tormented and frightening face. He instinctively dug in his heels and his fingertips widely as her vast face became all that he could see above him. If not for his experience with Linda, Steve would be screaming now. He would be suffering a complete meltdown, of epic proportions, some cruelly poignant and twisted Twilight Zone episode's final moments. The scars that the blonde colossus had already inflicted upon him served as a broad immunization. Still, Bethany was incredibly potent, this face had leaned over him every night of his childhood to kiss him good night. The closest analogue for Steve was an almost instinctive memory of peering upwards from her breast and seeing this same face. But it was only an analogue, her soft maternal visage was a multi-story office building and Steve was only a window cleaner.

 

 

 

The enormous lower lip quivered, glistening with either tears or saliva as the enormous head lowered towards him. Steve was confronted by his mother's grief stricken mouth, it floated at a low angle over the rounded heel of her palm, the gentle swell of shaking chin half a moment away from either pinning or crushing him to a paste. Bethany sorrowfully spoke, she was too distraught to realize how loud she was. Steve only caught a second of it and his ears rang ferociously as he cried out and clamped his palms over them. The sound waves shook his tiny frame and his vision blurred from the force. The agonized feminine lips repeated again just as loudly as the still-evaporating alcohol rolled over him in a cloud of wine vapor.

 

 

 

"Oh, my poor, tiny baby! Oh, my poor, tiny baby!"

 

 

 

"Bethany! You're freaking him out! Be quiet! Whisper!"

 

 

 

Steve was on his side, curled feebly as he held his head, damming his ears. There was movement overhead and he turned just in time to see his mother's five foot diameter finger confront him from beyond her palm like a lake monster attacking a tourist. The fingertip flattened him against her palm's largest crease and dragged the ridged fingerprint harshly down him from his chest to his tiny protesting ankles. Steve coughed painfully once he caught his breath again, the digit had spun him a quarter-turn clockwise with it's force of movement. Steve whispered between his greedy intakes of wine and carbon dioxide polluted air.

 

 

 

"Linda... Linda.. come... get me, please. She's going to… My mother is… She's going to hurt…"

 

 

 

Above Steve, Bethany's green eyes seemed to almost grow. The thin, glistening gleam embellishing the whites of them swelled and became a viscous river that clung, welling thickly and flowing just above each orb's lower eyelid. Thick, slow-moving rivulets snaked over the oily, pore-laden cheeks and were drawn into her trademark and lifelong dimples. There was an enormous sniffle that sounded to Steve more like a horse-drawn cart being swallowed by a flood-glutted sinkhole to never be seen again.

 

 

 

"Oh, Steve! I missed you! You're. So. Tiny!"

 

 

 

Steve's skin buzzed in time with the words and he yelled up at her as his eyelids stung and his chest hurt from the force.

 

 

 

"Stop it! You're deafening me! Stop it, mom!"

 

 

 

The enormous index fingertip was back with it's chief conspirator, Bethany's thumb.

 

 

 

"Linda! Oh, please! No! Oh, fuck, no!"

 

 

 

The hulking digits dropped to the thick skin on either side of him and closed rapidly. Steve's legs were caught and he was suddenly swinging upside down. Slick, slimy and hot flesh assaulted him as he dangled helplessly. His gigantic mother was kissing him and the mobile walls of muscle molded around him and the thick fingertips.

 

 

 

"Bethany! Give him here! You're hurting him!"

 

 

 

He was pulled free for a moment and he swung from his trapped hips like a pendulum. Bethany gave Linda a hurt look and desperately pressed him into her sloppy, drunken pucker again. Her colossal kisses were soft and frantic, ecstatic. The upper and lower lips trapped him between them and their affection was expressed by mangling him. A tiny arm was sucked in between the mighty billowing flesh. The tiny limb was pressed so uniformly that Steve's tiny fingertips almost split open as the blood was squeezed from his arm and into his body.

 

 

 

Then his torso and head were slid sideways across the pink expanse and pulled inwards between his mother's affectionate lips. Steve was screaming in between choking mouthfuls of wine infused saliva. His unfortunate and exposed miniature doll-anatomy was lavished with weird, unpredictable pressures of drunken undulations. Steve's head was pressed almost flat against one shoulder. His other arm was caressed almost to the breaking point across his own ribs before being folded tightly over his own face. He was thrust even deeper between the furling and swirling might of the lips and Steve realized his tiny head was suddenly nestled underneath the enamelized cliff of a front tooth. He gurgled, wide-eyed, as the crown of his head pressed against the front of a lower tooth. His head, his face that had kissed this mouth countless times was now trapped precisely in the attractive overbite of Bethany's smile. Steve felt pressure on his legs from the enormous fingertips and he was lucky, he turned his head to the side just as he was ripped smoothly out of his mother's lips.

 

 

 

The mighty fingertips swung away again, Steve groggily realized his assaulter was smiling. The mouth opened and as Bethany spoke she brought it to him, almost kissing him again.

 

 

 

"I'm just so glad that your-"

 

 

 

Steve woke up. His ears were ringing fiercely. He must have passed out there for a moment. He fought to get his bearings, but there was just skin, ridged skin capturing him up to the waist, the pink and almost orange-segment-pleated skin of lips floating like a wall beside him.

 

 

 

"Please, Bethany. Please! You're going to kill him!"

 

 

 

He was directly under his mother's face. She looked angry, perturbed that Linda was trying to get between her and her son. The gigantic, and full lips slid away from the teeth and a blast of breath proceeded the deafening words right next to him.

 

 

 

"He's my son, Linda! Even if he is… Even if he's…"

 

 

 

Steve cried out in pain as the huge mouth assaulted him with sound. Bethany's head pulled back and she looked down at him, smiling as he dangled there upside down. There was movement and then Steve's dangling upper body was trapped in hot fingertips. His legs were freed and they flopped outside of the crevice as gravity folded him in half. He was being lowered and he could not breathe.

 

 

 

The fingers parted but Steve was adhered to the pad of her index finger. His breath was forced out of him as the thumb tip broke the surface tension of the tears which held him to her skin. Steve lay in a pile on her palm. Bethany smiled at him sadly and blasted into him with his own name.

 

 

 

"Steve?"

 

 

 

"Bethany," Linda said tersely, "speak softly! Or he's going to be deaf for the rest of his life! He is just an inch! Why can't you understand that?"

 

 

 

"Okay, Linda. I understand!" Bethany said in full volume right above him.

 

 

 

Steve kicked his legs, utterly stunned and in agony. He convulsed in a ragged and uncontrolled spiral on his face across his mother's palm, coating himself in salty body oils that had a hint of the taint of fried food. He was panting, face smashed into her thick and tacky skin as he lay there blinking. It sounded like church bells were being broken inside of his skull, accompanied by a high-pitched aural feedback, like mice screaming as they were slowly crushed.

 

 

 

His mother's eyes were still tearing up and the enormous mouth smiled. A thick fingertip interjected it's bulk, blotting out his view of all but her eyes. It gingerly lowered onto all of his tiny frame. She was trying to stroke him, but she was rolling him between her palm and digit in a tightly compressed bundle of vulnerable nakedly-pink human lint. Urine and vomit were expelled and intermingled, leaving a slight gloss in a wide path where he had just been.

 

 

 

He was no longer on the palm, he was stuck to her face first. One tiny leg and arm dangled as Bethany raised her fingertip. She smiled and rotated her wrist until her digit was upturned. Her son… Steve was so tiny! Bethany brought him up to her eyes. Tiny enough that he rested in a contorted pile on her fingertip. Her son was laying on her fingertip!

 

 

 

Black motes swarmed around the outside of his vision. He just tried to breathe. He stared back into the green eye as he fought to remain conscious. Everything smelled like piss and wine. His esophagus and mouth burned from the bitter vomit. He stared back into the green eye. They were such monsters at this size. He had been around Linda for five minutes at normal size. He knew her almost exclusively like this, as a landscape and enormous, uniquely Linda-shaped parts. But he had been around his mother his entire life. Strange that she looked so different now, almost completely unrecognizable. He could probably pick Linda out of a lineup of gigantic close-up photos of her skin and body. He would be lost trying to identify this monsteress.

 

 

 

Strange that he should end up here, like this, with his own mother. Linda seemed to reserve her fingertips as perches for when Steve had been bad or for when Linda had finished doing something especially terrible to him and wished to gloat. It made him feel especially tiny, and he suspected that the same was true from Linda's point of view. Steve coughed and stared into the green iris. Was that muscle large enough to crush him as well if it were freed from the crystalline globe of jelly? His mother had gotten it wrong. She was only supposed to do this after she removed him from her pussy, or after wringing him between her unstoppable toes. Oh, perhaps she was right. She had almost crushed him to death underneath one of her fingertips. My bad, thought Steve, proceed, show me more of how powerless I am compared to you, mother.

 

 

 

His fleshy perch dropped rapidly as he smiled cynically and then he was in front of his mother's mouth. His heart began racing again and he swallowed hard. The lips widened and curled up into a crescent as they revealed enormous but familiar teeth in a smile. He didn't understand her as she spoke, but the vibrations racing across his fragile skin made him feel sick.

 

 

 

"I love you, baby!"

 

 

 

Bethany was smiling as she wiped him off onto her palm. She touched him with her fingertip. He was jumping and shivering against it as she rolled him around in her palm. She decided it must be joy but that the little thing was worn out.

 

 

 

"Bethany, would you like me to dress him in his little clothes for you?"

 

 

 

"He has little clothes?"

 

 

 

"Yes, Bethany. Can I see him?"

 

 

 

Bethany extended her hand and Linda softly gathered him up. Linda carefully placed him on the table and made sure he was comfortable with her gently nudging fingernail. Steve weakly raised a hand in thanks before shutting his eyes.

 

 

 

"Come on. I'll show you."

 

 

 

She helped up Bethany from the floor and they left the craft room. Linda softly shut the door before turning and slapping her. Linda caught her wrists when she tried to retaliate.

 

 

 

"Do you want to kill you son? Huh? He was screaming and you ignored him!"

 

 

 

"He was-"

 

 

 

"He might have bad hearing damage now because of you, because you wouldn't listen to me!"

 

 

 

Bethany started crying and leaned in to Linda. Linda held her, still angry.

 

 

 

"I just wanted to…"

 

 

 

"Look at me! Look at me, Bethany! He is this big!" Linda pitched her fingers close together.

 

 

 

"Oh, Linda..."

 

 

 

"Thank God he isn't bleeding from anywhere. I hope you didn't break anything."

 

 

 

"But…"

 

 

 

"This big! This big, Bethany!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda let Bethany sleep in her own bed, deciding to take the couch for herself or try Mike's bed. She came back in the craft room and sat down in front of Steve. He was laying face up just like she had left him, looking very much like a toy.

 

 

 

Linda turned on the microphone and camera before waking him by tickling his feet with a strand of her long blonde hairs. The tiny thing stirred and his head tilted to take her in. Linda smiled down at him.

 

 

 

"Please. Please don't shrink her."

 

 

 

"I won't. Now, how are you? Is anything swelling up? Can you tell if anything is broken?"

 

 

 

"I can't hear very well right now. My head hurts. I am completely exhausted, I feel like I have been hit by a train."

 

 

 

Linda smiled.

 

 

 

"Teach her how to be careful, please. I won't ever tell her what happened. Please, Linda."

 

 

 

"Okay."

 

 

 

"Did she like it?"

 

 

 

Linda thought for a moment and then shook her head yes.

 

 

 

"I don't think she will want to. Now that she knows it is you."

 

 

 

"She will. She knows what I like."

 

 

 

"I guess she does, doesn't she?" Linda grinned down at him.

 

 

 

Linda made a bed for him in the earring box and gently placed him on to the impromptu mattress. She carried him into her walk-in closet quietly and placed him on the shelf before turning in for the night.

 

 

 

 

 

Bethany awoke dehydrated, her head pounding. Light was already streaming in the windows at the back of the bedroom. She got up and pulled the sheet off of the bed, wrapping it around her. Bethany staggered into the kitchen and through trial and error found the cabinet containing the glasses. She got herself a drink and came back to the bedroom.

 

 

 

Bethany wanted to see Steve again so badly. Some of the evening was a bit vague to her but in hindsight she understood why Linda had been so angry with her. She was such an idiot, she hoped she hadn't hurt her son. She spent a long time thinking about him, considering the Faustian deal she had entered into. There was a duality there, Bethany wasn't sure if the two versions would coexist peacefully or not. Was there two versions? Not to Steve, it had never been a conflict in his mind. It was all up to her, could she be a mother and what Steve wanted? She was so much less a mother now because of his condition. Last night had shown her that. She was so much more what Steve wanted, almost completely, without even trying to be.

 

 

 

Bethany finished her water and drifted off to a light sleep for about forty-five minutes. When she woke again she felt much better, though she seriously wanted some aspirin. She got up and stretched before wandering slowly around the room. Bethany came to the dresser and suppressed a yawn. She didn't want to go through Linda's things. She would wait and have Linda retrieved some sweatpants and other things for her. Bethany's eye latched onto some movement.

 

 

 

Bethany peered down into the partially open top drawer. Obviously panties, but there was something else in there. She slid the drawer open a little bit more. There were two bottle caps, one partially filled with water. Bethany's eyes grew wide, Linda distinctly said "they" several times in reference to tiny Steve's condition. Was this another one? Was this maybe Mike? It had to be another tiny person, but why in her panty drawer? Were they being punished? How large would they be?

 

 

 

 

 

I knew there was someone else here. I had heard my mother and this other person talking outside of my confinement last night. Another woman. I think that my mother had left Jesse or Steve, or maybe both of them out on the end table next to her bed. I think this woman found one of them. But I was still safe.

 

 

 

What do you want me to say? She kept me in her panty drawer and my single unchanging event was a nightly visit by her. We might do other things in the daytime. I worked on the tiny house, mostly. Her smiling assistance was her flawless fingers acting like sturdy, unbreakable cranes and a moving, instantaneous scaffold for my tiny construction efforts.

 

 

 

I watched my beautiful mother eat at nearly every meal from next to her plate on the kitchen table. This was my mother, I was intimate to everything pertaining to her. There were no formalities, no considerations and no dignity afforded to me. She would take me to the bathroom to entertain herself while she use the toilet, she would talk to me as she thundered around naked, dressing in the morning. Several times already she had fallen asleep after pleasuring herself, or me, or both of us on the nearly endless bed. I have sleeplessly wandered across it, trapped upon it with my skyscraper sized parent whose naked body was gorgeous and perilous.

 

 

 

The snoring was completely unfamiliar to me. My mother, Linda, snored. Most people do. My mother's snoring seemed to match the rest of her, it was small and almost endearing sounds, something like a large cat might make. This was nothing of the sort. These were like the threat displays of hidden, gigantic warthogs. They would climb in savagery until they plateaued into a sort of sick biplane-engine crescendo that would end in a dinosaurian snort. I slept fitfully and several times I was awoken, trembling, wide eyed and tiny, clutching pink silk tightly to me. I desperately wanted my mommy. You would to if she were Linda.

 

 

 

I tried to stay back far enough and yet get a peek at her. But there was a point when I knew she had seen me. Before I could even make it to the back of the drawer to hide, everything was sliding forward on the quiet, expensive rails. We stared at each other for a moment. She was not ugly, not at all. She was not flawless like my mother, but then again, my mother struck me as slightly creepy sometimes because of that. Like I had been cared for through my childhood years by an unchanging and beautiful android. She aged slowly, if at all, like someone from the Orient, like someone from far Northern Europe... odd that.

 

 

 

This colossus had tiny crow's feet at the outside's of her eyes. She had dimples and dark red hair that was chaotically messy at the moment. If Linda was an excellent specimen of Teutonic-ness, this giantess seemed straight out of the British Isles, a bona fide Celt. Intensely green eyes radiated an almost maddening fascination with my tiny form. I had a quick, crazy thought that this second strange goddess also seemed to be very appropriate to the theme of enormous women. They were each excellent examples of two of the prime cultures responsible for myths which might contain monstrous people.

 

 

 

Steve was not the only one who had been touched in the head by the experience of being one inch tall and in my mother's beautiful clutches. We three were tiny, slightly crazed daredevils and the sight of another giantess was rather middling on my scale of excitement considering my life recently. I laughed out loud under my breath, this was the giantess sampler pack that I was experiencing, apparently. An enormous, dominating, beautiful Wagnerian blonde, now a mischievous, wild eyed and unpredictable Celt. I shook my head, let's see, what was missing? Ah. So, I thought to myself, sometime next week I will be a toy for an unreadable, willowy and deceptively strong Japanese maiden? That would round out my sampling of sexual wonder and sexual terror.

 

 

 

Would my mother help me compose emails to female students at Tokyo University? It was possible. She was Linda, after all. She wasn't unreasonable… sometimes.

 

 

 

A gigantic hand reached in for me as her head ducked down and she squinted. These were not my mother's hands, I felt giddiness for a moment and then I realized that her nails were fake. But she had potential. I would not find her touch grotesque, not at all. She herded me into the bare wooden corner of the drawer and the fingertips grabbed me by my legs, dragging me out a little ways before capturing me.

 

 

 

I could not see a thing, her skin was rougher than my mother's, less resilient. I was unable to breathe, flattened and captured between the mattress-sized pads of her fingertips. I started to run out of oxygen and my tiny diaphragm tried it's utmost to bring in some air, but the beautiful giantess did not relent. What was she doing? She didn't seem to be walking. If she knew my mother and had found one of us accidentally, why didn't she realize how fragile I was? Surely my mother-

 

 

 

The fingertips parted and I landed in the carpet. Above me she thundered…

 

 

 

"Hi! I'm Steve's mother, Bethany. You must be Mike! Come and play with me, Mike! Linda calls me the goddess of high heels. I hope you like high heels, Mike."

 

 

 

I looked up, out away from me were her enormous feet, clad in nice, black and shiny "fuck me shoes"- stiletto'ed high heels. I looked further up and up and up… This Bethany wore only her shoes, her hands were on her hips and she was smiling. This was not my mother's body. Bethany was pleasantly... flawed... human... heavier and softer than Linda ever would be. Bethany might never be suitable for the July page in the girl of the month calender sponsored by a high performance auto parts company, like my mother... But this goddess was supremely feminine, shaped and changed by the journey through world. This was a regular, beautiful woman, a MILF, not a sex-bot Frost Giantess from a fan-fic wet dream. My hair stood on end as the enormous high heels took ridiculously tiny, playful and frightening steps until she was directly overhead.

 

 

 

Apparently the sampler pack contained more than the standard flavors of skyscraper sized women. I hypothesized calmly as my body got ready for a flight. As I said, these things were standard fare to me now, and I could philosophize in the corner somewhere while I licked, or screamed or worshiped. What could a Japanese colossus bring into the mix? What exactly would that prop be?

 

 

 

One enormous foot raised as Bethany smiled.

 

 

 

"Can you run for Bethany? I want to see you run. I have to practice. Help me, Mike, help me get better at using my pretty feet."

 

 

 

Wait a minute…

 

 

 

Did she say that she was Steve's mother? 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 16: Morning News by V11

Linda had left the microphone on, and Bethany was lucky. Score a point for alcohol induced carelessness.

 

 

 

"But you don't remember, sweetie?"

 

 

 

"No, I don't, just like Steve."

 

 

 

"That's okay. I was just wondering. Steve won't talk about it. Do you know where Steve is? Linda took him somewhere last night. I just want to talk to him again. I miss him! I thought he was dead!"

 

 

 

Mike eyed her for a moment. She was digging too much. However she had ended up here on his mother's doorstep it was very recent.

 

 

 

"He's in her closet. She keeps Jesse and him together somewhere in there."

 

 

 

Bethany's eyes widened for a moment before she regained control. She didn't know that. She didn't know about Jesse, that wouldn't be bad, would it? She had to know that Jesse and Steve were a thing. What she didn't know, most likely, was that Mike, himself, had proposed to Jesse. What a fucking mess. That seemed so long ago now.

 

 

 

Mike genuinely liked Bethany. She had been very sweet to him, despite having had him on the floor at her enormous feet. She was a bit like his own mother, fully able to tap into the young person inside of her that she had not let die in adulthood, or parenthood, or whatever stage that was that caused amnesia and impotent frustration among the populace ten years out of college.

 

 

 

Bethany was not Linda, and that was nice. Mike was right about his flippant observation: she acted like a Celt, or at least how he thought that they "trended". How do you make general and sweeping observations about groups of people based on ethnicity without being an ass or much worse? He could tell that she had an organic-ness to her. She seemed like someone who understood and loved animals, someone who worked way too hard and was proud. Someone deeply spiritual regardless of whether it was focused at all. She was a survivor. Was this exclusive to someone who was Scotch, Irish? Welsh? No. But if you knew that and were looking at her, well, you'd feel a bit fuzzy and warm. Bethany was going to include you, and she was going to be fun.

 

 

 

Mike realized his internal thoughts were starting to sound like one of Steve's tirades, when Steve would go on about something that happened long ago. Something that no one gave a rat's ass about anymore. Something that explained a bit of the modern world, some corner of it. Things that did not pertain to online poker, marital infidelity, cable shows, the goddamned Kardashians, fertility treatments, gun laws and politics. Something apparently pointless to most people. Probably the same people who had lost their curiosity and depth of progression in that pervading amnesia amid their custody battles and lifestyle overhauls.

 

 

 

He thought perhaps everything had a little bit to do with her green eyes. Was that overemphasizing such a small detail, even though one of those "little details" was so large that Mike could be stretched spreadeagled in front of and still be woefully inadequate as an obstruction to her sight? Such expressive green eyes. His mother was hard to read sometimes, Mike could never figure out exactly what that was. Was it as well her eyes? Or was it because Linda would often be detached, submerged in her internal world and content to smolder there. When Linda was readable Mike always knew that she was aware of this and had allowed it to cross the barrier and be shown. Bethany was emotional and it just happened, right there, mixed to the proper hue right in front of you and then displayed. Germanic versus Celtic. Thoughtful action flowing outwards from within versus everything external savored and internalized. An unstoppable force and an immovable force. No wonder Rome had been ultimately doomed. One of Her foes you didn't ever want to make angry, and the other foe no matter how much you mistreated, you couldn't kill. Ever. These two forces of nature complemented each other in unusual ways. They were ancient rivals and quite often playmates. Natural neighbors. Rome should have stayed home.

 

 

 

Mike laughed out loud.

 

 

 

"What's that all about?"

 

 

 

"Nothing. I was just thinking about the fall of Rome."

 

 

 

Bethany gave him a strange look and smiled, puzzled.

 

 

 

"Come on, sweetie. Let me put you back in your drawer before mommy wakes up."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Frank's tiny voice mocked and angered her from somewhere inside of the heap of cotton. The tiny being kept moving and no matter how much cotton Jesse displaced, throwing armloads away from the pile she could not find him. Jesse resorted to using her feet again, sweeping and pressing, feeling with her toes and soles for the tiny, pallid and soft monster.

 

 

 

"I'm sick of it! And I'm sick of you, you little bitch! Sick of your games! I take it back, I take it all back!"

 

 

 

"Where are you, you little shit?"

 

 

 

I don't regret a thing and I don't care what you do to me! Torture me all you want!"

 

 

 

"I hope I step on you! You had better run, little dollie-man."

 

 

 

"I enjoyed molesting you! Do you hear me? I enjoyed every minute of it!"

 

 

 

"I'm going to return the favor and then I'm going to crush you! Do you hear me, Frank? How do you like that? Your pretty stepdaughter is going to rape you and then crush your little skull like a mouse! I am so fucking sick of you, you fucking little troll!"

 

 

 

"I just wish your mother would have come home a little bit later every night! I just wanted to spend more time making you cry, little girl! Ha ha! I liked your sweet little-"

 

 

 

Four enormous fingertips pressed against one side of the candy dish. Jesse was thrown into the cotton face first as the hand widened and clamped down around the prison. Movement, the plummeting spilled water from the bottle cap. Frank was washed out from his hiding spot and Jesse managed to grab him in her fist as she crashed into a concave wall. The jutting shoulders of a row of dress jackets shot past upwards.

 

 

 

Jesse instinctively looked skywards but there was another enormous hand which held the lid in place. Jesse could only see wildly distorted images through the spherical glass knob which squatted in the center of the lid, unimpeded by the hand's flesh. Rocking motions accompanied the thunderous jolts. The monster was walking, carrying them. Jesse was relieved, Linda's messy bed came up quickly. They continue to descend at an angle and passed over the white cliffs of Egyptian cotton. The candy dish landed, a transparent flying saucer touching down on the rippled plateau of fabric.

 

 

 

One of the hands shifted just enough to show a few fingertips as more than just fat, humidity ringed pads against the glass. The color drained from Jesse's face as she realized that these were not Linda's beautiful, well-hydrated model-perfect digits. The lid deafened her as it rang, tilting away and disappearing sideways.

 

 

 

Jesse was panicking as the enormous head lowered, but moreover she was fighting against her tiny field of view, trying to put the enormous features into some context together despite their foreshortened appearance. Then she figured it out as the enormous face smiled.

 

 

 

Jesse began screaming, she squatted instantly, trying to make herself as small as possible, raising both her hands overhead to shield herself. Tiny little Frank began to scream as well, held upwards in Jesse's fist, forced to comprehend the thing in the sky. Frank's sound was a rodent's mournful whistle which squeezed itself upwards until it was a thin, raggedly stretched squeal.

 

 

 

"Aww. I guess this is the last piece of candy."

 

 

 

An index finger and thumb swept over Jesse and closed on her. The air was driven from her tiny body as her joints popped audibly and then she was upside down, her stomach felt sick. Jesse landed face down on the hot, unfamiliar smelling flesh. She clutched tiny Frank to her bosom and she rolled over. It was true. She had hoped she was wrong, but she wasn't.

 

 

 

Bethany's smiling face lowered over the tiny, trembling girl. Jesse began to scream shrilly as Bethany smiled. The enormous chuckle rolled over Jesse, blanketing her with foul morning breath.

 

 

 

"Well, if it isn't that little whore. What's wrong, Jesse? Aren't you happy to see me? I'm pretty happy to see you! I like your new look! I like it a lot!"

 

 

 

Jesse lowered over onto her face, bringing her arms and legs tightly to her as she bawled. Bethany's enormous face was filled with delight as it floated just beyond the tiny, tightly compacted little button of a body which shook in terror.

 

 

 

"Aww. You're so cute, Jesse! I'd like to do something to you. I'd like to show you how I feel about you. Is that okay? I know we've had words before. But I don't want to use hurtful words anymore. I want to just show you, okay? I want you to see."

 

 

 

Jesse dared a look up. Bethany's thumb and index fingertips were slowly lowering to the outsides of her. Steve's mother had a little smile on her face.

 

 

 

"I'm… sorry Bethany! I know we should have… We should have... kept the baby! I know…"

 

 

 

The enormous fingertips closed slowly on Jesse. Bethany held her there, just tight enough to keep her confined. Jesse was still in her little ball and the polymer nails slid under her, uneven and slanted surfaces which Jesse pressed knees and elbows into, trying to remain in her tight little ball of safety.

 

 

 

"It's so easy for me, Jesse! So easy for me to just show you how I feel. But, maybe I don't have to? Maybe you already know? This is nice. This is exactly where you belong, it's perfect!"

 

 

 

"Leave me alone! Please! Just leave me alone!"

 

 

 

"I just realized something. I have a better revenge on you already. Something I didn't intend. It's something that is too terrible for even you."

 

 

 

Bethany let go of her and nudged her with her index fingertip. The nail caught Jesse across her chest, almost bruising her breasts as she was flung onto her back. Jesse's little doll rolled free of her hand as Jesse fought against the sickening buzz in her ears that threatened to drag her into unconsciousness. As Jesse lay there the enormous forty-something woman gloated.

 

 

 

"Do you know how Steve has a thing about certain shoes, Jesse? You and I both know what I'm talking about. I remember you coming over so many times wearing those high-heeled pumps. Did he ask you to buy them? Or was he just sly and surprised you with them as a present?"

 

 

 

Jesse's mind latched on to Bethany's words. She shook off the pain and sat up. Bethany glanced out of the corner of her eye, strangely pleased with herself and simultaneously frightened by it.

 

 

 

"Did you ever catch him with your shoes, Jesse? Did he ever do something ridiculous with them?"

 

 

 

Jesse looked horrified. An enormous fingertip pointed affirmatively down towards her as Bethany smiled.

 

 

 

"Oh, thank goodness for body language! I don't even need to hear your tiny words, you know exactly what I'm talking about! I caught him too, Jesse! You know something funny? I remember when you two were in high school, when you first started dating. I distinctly remember catching him once, right before he asked you to prom one year. He had it on his crotch. He didn't see me. The floors in our house did not ever creak. It's the only house I have ever been in that didn't make some kind of a noise. I caught him several times, Jesse. I even caught him next to the Christmas tree one time, the lights flickering softly as he made a nasty mess inside of my pumps. It was horrible."

 

 

 

Bethany leaned over and Jesse watched as the leviathan removed one of her high heels. The enormous, yacht-sized structure floated over Jesse as she trembled. The stiletto touched down onto the palm for a moment.

 

 

 

"Steve came all over this stiletto last night, Jesse. The tiny thing wrapped his arms around it and humped it like a maniac. He told me that he wants me to be his high-heeled goddess. His Miss Dominant Sexy Shoes. Linda laughed and laughed about it. She just couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe it either. But, Jesse, I didn't know it was Steve then. It was afterward that I found out."

 

 

 

The high heel lifted upwards. Something dropped from it and landed wetly back into the puddle of blood. Jesse noticed it but did not really perceive. After all, these were shoes, it could have been anything. Bethany looked a little bit sad.

 

 

 

"I'm going to do it. I had already agreed before I knew it was Steve. I'm sorry, Jesse. He couldn't resist, I guess, so tiny and at his mommies feet. I... I kind of like it. Is that wrong? Of course, I guess it is. I wish it was someone besides him, but who else would it be? Not after all of... his... stunts. Who else would want this?"

 

 

 

Jesse was crying and put her head into her hands. Bethany smirked and it slowly changed into solemnity.

 

 

 

"I'm sorry. I don't hate you anymore. I can't. I'll put you back now."

 

 

 

Bethany lowered her hand into the candy dish and softly rolled Jesse onto the cotton. She stared down at her for a moment.

 

 

 

"Maybe we can be friends now? I think you need friends, Jesse. I promise I won't hurt Steve. I am his mother, after all. I'll be very gentle with him. I'm going to practice so I don't crush with my great big… pretty feet. If it matters, he seems very happy that I agreed. It wasn't exactly fair to me. But, now I will know where my son is… even though… Even though it's perverted. This is what he wants. It makes him so happy, Jesse. So happy."

 

 

 

The enormous fingertip tried to caress Jesse. Jesse started screaming and threw a tantrum, punching and kicking the rubbery, leathery monster.

 

 

 

"I know, Jesse. But, it isn't your fault. It wasn't a competition. How could it be? He's always been… I would like us to be friends now. I'll make my lasagna for you! I'll do anything. Don't hate me, Jesse, please. I didn't do this! He… He's just… Well, I don't need to tell you. Shhh. You're going to be okay!"

 

 

 

Jesse pushed at the fingertip that was trying to comfort her. It was disgusting and it was touching all of her naked front. Bethany did not get to do that to her. Jesse only wanted Linda to touch her. Jesse really wanted Linda right now. Linda could comfort her. Linda was so clean and soft and warm.

 

 

 

Bethany replaced the lid and then put the candy dish back were she had found it.

 

 

 

Jesse tried to bury her face deeply enough into the makeshift bed so that she couldn't hear Bethany. The giantess was still in the closet, obviously making a fuss over either Mike or Steve. It wasn't Mike, Linda never put him in here. She could also tell by the sweetness of Bethany's enormous voice. It was Steve. Jesse began sobbing again. She wanted to be laying on that warm, golden landscape. She wanted to be wrapped around one of those fingertips and staring into one of those beautiful blue eyes.

 

 

 

Fuck Steve. Fuck him! Linda was more than big enough for her and Mike. Mike would share her, Mike was nice. Linda would be her lover. What more could Jesse want? She didn't really mind being a tiny doll, as long it was for Linda. Linda knew how to please tiny dolls like Jesse. Linda deserved to have pretty things.

 

 

 

After a while Jesse realized what the little red lump had been, must have been. Frank was gone. Crushed beneath the stiletto. Jesse was not exactly sad about that, but it was yet another feature in the bleak landscape of her pain.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 17: Her Bedside Manner by V11

 

Steve had heard gigantic movement several times, obviously one of the colossi, but he was well used to such things and slept through it. Steve did not know for how long he had dozed, but something in his environment slowly drew him upwards to a state of semi-consciousness. It was a familiar smell, something quite difficult for Steve to put his finger on exactly, but he knew what it was, or rather who it was. It was his mother. Was it perfume or shampoo? He knew it was not that, not an obvious, easily deductive scent. Was it more likely perhaps the lifelong and consistent tang of the waste products leaving her skin, her scalp? Was it her pheromones? Her breath, the exhalants of her lungs? Did her flesh, her hair simply have the inalienable scent of Bethany? Of mother? Steve would never know and he doubted anyone else could even detect such a thing. It required an entire childhood to fully sample, and perhaps a child's instincts to even be capable of such detection.

 

 

 

Steve slowly roused enough for movement. He stretched and then winced, regretting it immediately as his muscles protested. He slowly opened his eyes and gasped. Though not completely unexpected, there she was, hulking upwards into the sky overhead. Bethany was not an enormous golden idol like Linda, she was pale, like white cream. Her head was wreathed in dark red curls that had always reminded Steve of autumnal leaves, of Halloween, of crows.

 

 

 

Steve's cock pulsed upwards to life and he was simultaneously rather deeply shaken. His mother's enormous face was locked on him, her green eyes were lit with something, obsessiveness? Happiness? Possessiveness? Amusement? Whatever it was, Steve could see that she was wound like a spring, the tenuously set catch which held back the snapping, mousetrap action he could see somewhere in her, perhaps in those huge eyes. Or was it her mouth that was set in a tiny half-smile which held back the ferocious lever? Was that the catch that kept Steve's tiny neck from being pinned and perhaps broken?

 

 

 

"Hi, sweetie! How are you this morning? I hope I didn't hurt you last night. I'm sorry, Steve. I just got carried away. Mommy was drunk."

 

 

 

The pinky finger which approached him was the length of a train of shopping carts being pushed back to their nest across a big box store parking lot. It caressed the front edge of the earring box he lay within gently, causing the thick cardboard structure to shift and tilt beneath him slightly.

 

 

 

"I still can't believe how tiny you are. You're just so amazingly tiny!"

 

 

 

She was smiling down at him. Steve was trying to detach from the sudden and deep arousal he felt. It was as if he was quickly circling and bobbing in a whirlpool of stimulation towards it's inexorable center of spontaneous orgasm. How could he not? Seeing her like this, directly above his prone and naked form was too much. Steve shuddered and shut his eyes as his engorged cock bobbed imperceptibly in the empty air, driven by his pulse.

 

 

 

"I want you to come with me, Steve. I promise I'll be very careful with you! I promise I won't hurt you!"

 

 

 

His mother raised one hand and it spread open as it traveled over him. Steve's scalp tingled fiercely, it was difficult enough to get used to Linda. But, in Steve's mind, Linda was an enormous, frightening being, and had always been such. Steve's mere minutes with Linda at a much more sane size his unconscious had labeled as mere conjecture, some sort of a daydream, stupid hyperbole or hasty theory. When Steve was around Linda his impression was that she was excessively, almost cruelly gigantic.

 

 

 

This was different. This was his mother, and the onus of size was on him. Steve was maddeningly tiny. He was filled with a contemplative dread, almost as impersonally savage as the sheer emptiness of the vacuum of space. Steve was nothing compared to her, and he wasn't entirely sure why she didn't just crush him out of principal. Here she was, wasting her time and effort to pay attention to a creature not even the length of a wooden matchstick. Someone who's tiny skull would be comparatively outsized by the head of this imaginary match. Steve was a tender, delicate form of life who did not deserve human status.

 

 

 

All of Linda's torture came back to him, all of the ways she delighted in comparing their tiny bodies to hers. It all came back to Steve with the terrible clarity of truth. Each of these things his own mother was capable of, in every way she could match Linda in enormity. But Steve knew the difference. The colossal blonde had always been fixated upon the tiny and defenseless. Linda, despite her cruelty was the paragon of gentleness. This colossus above Steve might not be even capable of caution. This was a normal woman, not some singularity of obsessiveness. Not a woman whose exquisite digits moved with the care of a master neurosurgeon. Not someone driven by a perverse and unique sexuality.

 

 

 

To Linda they were people she had reduced to the size of bugs. Therein lay nestled Linda's immense cruelty and amusement. This was why she was careful with them, to prolong their bug status, to warp the dynamic, complex and defiant person into a reliant, worshipful toy. To perch a football lineman, a housewife, an electrician on one of her pretty fingertips, or mire them and purr as they struggled futilely between her enormous beautiful toes. To Bethany, Steve was a bug who used to be her son. In her haste and her zeal to reunite with the person she perceived, Bethany might accidentally crush or suffocate the bug.

 

 

 

Teeny tiny Steve had a gigantic mother and she might just squish him as she smiled.

 

 

 

Fingers surrounded his box and he was slowly lifted upwards. A moment later Steve's ridiculously large bed had an even larger backboard composed of four enormous fingers as his mother place the earring box in her palm. Bethany carried him into the bedroom. She slowly crawled up on to the bed and placed the little box onto the sheets in front of her.

 

 

 

Steve's view was spectacular. All of his mother sat there in front of him like some pale, feminine mountain of curves, of vast expanses of milky white skin. Her foothills were naturally enormous feet, the long digits had enough crevices for Steve to play hide and seek within all day long. Her knees were really where the mountain began, and they framed the soft red forest that lay in an inaccessible valley. The shining escarpments of rock above the valley were really soft milky hips. There was more than a hundred foot sheer vertical tower of soft, delightful belly and ribs.

 

 

 

Steve's eyes widened as he realized that there were tiny almost fissure-like scars across Bethany's lower tummy right above the auburn forest. These were the stretch marks of motherhood. What would happen if she were to place him on top of one? The child responsible for these very scars was now utterly dwarfed by their length, perhaps even their breadth.

 

 

 

Were these scars what was left of the path which had zig-zagged, switch-backing up the sheer face of belly and ribs to the swelling shelf where a mythic city might lay? Which deity smiled down from the top of this mountain? She was smiling radiantly, an inappropriate amount of attention paid to such a tiny fragment of flesh laying in an empty earring box.

 

 

 

"I found your friend Mike. I think Linda is punishing him, he is inside the top drawer of her dresser where she keeps her panties. He told me about Jesse."

 

 

 

Steve felt terrible for Jesse. Poor, tiny Jesse having to contend with Steve's enormous mother by herself. The two no longer got along. It had grown complicated over the years.

 

 

 

"Jesse and I talked. I told her that you were mine now. I told her that you belong to me and my feet now. Isn't that true, Steve? That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

 

 

 

She… what? She told Jesse what? His mother was smiling in a way that was colored somehow. Something strange was there, in her face. She was grinning strangely, but I wasn't entirely a light, happy grin. There was something else in there and Steve did not like it.

 

 

 

"You said that you want me to be your goddess. Those were the words you used, Steve. A very kinky choice of words, isn't it? But, you always were… unusual. Here, I'm going to pick you up. I promise I'll try and be careful."

 

 

 

His mother's hand cut off his view of everything else outside of the box. Steve was gently captured and pressed bodily in her fingertips. His ride was brief and he floated in front of her face. She seemed exasperated for a moment, he could tell it was because he was so incredibly small. Her face came closer and the enormous fingertips shifted slightly. Bethany's eyes almost crossed as she took in the tiny head peeking out from the crevice of her thick fingertips.

 

 

 

"See, the problem is I'm not sure you understand, Steve. You said goddess. You're so tiny. There is only one way I can take that, only one way I will take that."

 

 

 

His mother's mouth slowly grew into an enormous smile as it swept in close to his tiny head. She spoke very softly.

 

 

 

"You belong to me now. Not the other way around. That means no more Jesse. Your tiny ass is mine. I'm a jealous goddess, Steve. I have had to put up with your strange behavior for too long. Maybe you shouldn't have used my shoes in your nasty perversions so much. But you did and I had to put up with it. Now you will live under my rules. You want your mommy to be your foot goddess? Okay, then, fine. I am, but you didn't gain anything at all. I did."

 

 

 

Steve was lowered away from her mouth. His mother was smiling triumphantly down on him. Steve's eyes grew wide as he took in her bush. But that was not his destination. Another moment of slow, gliding motion brought Steve to her upturned foot which rested against her other knee. The enormous fingers deposited him onto the underside of her toes. It stank here and Steve's backside was immediately covered in foul, sour smelling funk. Above his mother was smiling wolfishly.

 

 

 

"What was it about my shoes, Steve? Was it the shoes themselves, or what they contained that you were after? Do you know what it's like to put your foot into a shoe to find some cold cum in there? Do you know how angry that made me? Imagine if I were to fix you a meal and then blow my nose in it. Maybe crap in one of your baseball caps. I can't even come up with a comparison, Steve."

 

 

 

One of his mother's enormous hands gently scratched the sole of her foot that he rested upon. The vibrations of her nails coursing across her ridged flesh sent shivers through him. Then her fingertips rustled towards him across the huge range of flesh. They rested there on the hillock where the ball of her foot resided, the enormous fingertips mocked him as he lay in his smelly toe-trench.

 

 

 

"I was so sick of having your cum on my toes. My own son's semen! It was perverted and sick! It was insulting! I didn't say a word. I didn't know what to do about it. How was I supposed to find you help for that? How was I supposed to fix you?"

 

 

 

The index finger lifted and came down over him. Bethany smiled triumphantly, smugly as her fingertip covered him up and pinned him beneath it into her smelly flesh.

 

 

 

"But now. Now I'm going to have you between my toes. I am going to make you cum. I'm going to enjoy this. You're mine! Do you understand me? I'm going to make you cum now. Because I can. You're my toy, not the other way around, not anymore."

 

 

 

Bethany stroked him as he lay there, incredibly aroused and yet he trembled and tears wet his cheeks. Titillation, fear and sorrow. Bethany slowly picked him up and carefully inserted Steve's tiny head into the crevice he lay upon, sinking him up past his shoulders like a tent spike. The smell seared Steve's nose and the sticky film of her rank flesh contaminated his tears, spreading beyond his eyelids onto his eyeballs and causing a mild itching sensation.

 

 

 

Bethany closed her toes in a scrunch around him and she could feel him shake.

 

 

 

"Do you smell that? You better take a deep sniff of that. You deserve this, Steve. Every single little bit of it! So you had better cum for me, cum for mommy. Or I will make your life hell, little thing."

 

 

 

Bethany was smiling as she scrunched her toes around him. In almost no time she could feel the tiny thing orgasm. She let him rest for a moment, but not enough to truly be comfortable. Bethany pinched his tiny legs carefully in her fingertips and began to dab his face into the wet spot on her enormous flesh. Bethany licked one of the fingertips of her other hand and spread her saliva across the pad of her big toe. She could feel his tiny sobs as she carefully pressed his tiny, glistening body face up on to her big toe.

 

 

 

Steve was shaking as he sobbed. He was spread eagle on the fat digit and he watched as his mother pushed away the red hair from her opening. She explored herself for a few minutes, watching him as she did so before she removed her finger. His vengeful goddess lowered her face over him.

 

 

 

"How do you like it, hmm?"

 

 

 

The vast, pale fingertip carefully deposited her musky juices onto the delicate, spindly form.

 

 

 

"Open your mouth. Do you really want to make me angry, Steve? Open that tiny mouth!"

 

 

 

She was grinning as the five foot diameter fingertip softly touched down, pushing the tiny skull back into the toe flesh and trapping the tiny thing's entire upper body between maternal flesh. Steve could taste her now as the unstoppable goddess held him there between two feminine and smelly aspects of Bethany's might. As he began to struggle Bethany kept her fingertip planted dominantly over her own little bug. She mercifully removed it before she had driven him into unconsciousness.

 

 

 

"You're mine. Linda is just your nursemaid. She's going to take good care of you and I am going to make you pay me back for every time you touched my shoes."

 

 

 

Bethany scooted to the edge of the bed and slid on one of her pumps. She held the other one up close to the tiny being and slowly wiggled her toes, smiling as she watched him struggle in a sheer panic.

 

 

 

"I'm going to teach you now, little thing. I'm going to give you a front row seat to one of my pretty feet in action. You already know what it's like when mommy chases you. I'm going to do that a lot, I really like that. But, I think you need to know what it's like to be on the inside now. I think you need to understand why I'm your foot goddess, your high-heeled deity. I want you to know what it's like when mommy walks. That's very important, Steve. You need to worship that too, so I want you to feel it. All of it. I want you to know how my shoes could get so dirty. Maybe that will help you to clean them. You need to keep your room clean, don't you, Steve? Well, this is going to be just like that. Just like that. All of my shoes are yours now. Your responsibility. I think you've earned it."

 

 

 

Bethany gently seated her foot into the pump. She wiped her son from the bottom of her big toe like a piece of wet dirt before capturing him between her toes. Bethany leaned close to her fragrant pump and whispered.

 

 

 

"Bon appétit."

 

 

 

She stood to her full height and began to walk around the room with an authoritative gait, wonderfully supplemented by the tiny, wiggling form she kept dutifully captured. She embellished her steps with a slight playful twist of each ankle, and it made her feel wonderfully sexy. A nice smile slowly came to her face and she couldn't suppress it. Bethany paused to look out the huge bedroom window. She ground her pump into the floor and was pleased to feel her colossal toes compress around her son. Colossal toes. Bethany grinned and let out a chuckle.

 

 

 

Bethany had meant it. All of it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve was reminded of Linda, in a strange way. How she would carry him, the beautiful, clean fingertips pressed against his entire body. Rocking and swaying just in front of the enormous being, only his tiny head free.

 

 

 

This was almost nothing like that. Why was he reminded of her? Because his mother, Bethany, had him pinched and she was carrying him, in her own way. Steve's entire body was held vertically in a crack of monstrous, smelly and sticky toe flesh. He was between her big toe and second toe. Only his tiny face was free, and then only part of the time.

 

 

 

Everything depended on where his mother's colossal foot was in space. If she was lifting off of the floor, or if Steve and her fragrant appendage was arcing through the air, Steve could breathe, and even see. As her sole and toes took on her impossible weight the flesh around him would crush the air out of him as the toes grew dense and fat against each other. The thick, smelly skin, backed by tons of muscle and padding would seal over his tiny face.

 

 

 

This was Steve's world…

 

 

 

It was completely black most of the time. There had been two or three steps where Steve's face was high enough that he had merely choked as his tiny head was almost torn from his body by the crush of the toe flesh. Steve knew that when his mommie's foot was on the ground there were slim slivers of light cascading down the length of the instep and into the dank dungeon of the toe.

 

 

 

Such a position, such a sight was nearly impossible captured between her toes. Gravity, the enormous muscles and the slick skin conspired to keep his head deeply seated in the hellish maternal crevice.

 

 

 

As the incredible foot rocketed forward through the air, Steve could take up to three very fast, basically hyperventilating breaths, stacking them, desperately pushing oxygen into his blood like a maniac. He soon learned that this strategy was paramount to his survival. He had to keep his blood flooded with oxygen like some berserk Olympic athlete. He could never tell how long she might stand upon the foot she had trapped him with.

 

 

 

Sailing through the air was frightening. The beginning of it was terrible acceleration, the G forces caused Steve to see red each time. Was this his blood? The blood vessels in his eyes? Was this the possibility of unconsciousness, was this an instinctive warning of such a thing? Steve didn't know. After the acceleration there was a drop through space. This often felt giddy, and the feeling increased the more Steve coped with inconsistent oxygen consumption. Could he die like this? Abused, yet untouched? Could the G forces eventually kill him?

 

 

 

Touchdown was terrible. A quarter of a second before Steve's world exploded he was warned by the thirty-six foot tall stiletto spike contacting the floor with an awful noise. Then his world and senses and priorities were suddenly cluster fucked. The fragrant flesh which held him transformed to steel as it bulged and crushed the air from him. If Steve was lucky the air would have a clear exit before the bulging crevice closed over his face. If he was unlucky, the air still left, but he would pressurize a centimeter or two of space contoured around his own face. His own spent breath would be trapped and cause his eyes to sting even more.

 

 

 

Steve could not explain what it sounded like when the foot came down. It was too loud to find any aesthetics in such a thing. His bones all shook at once when it would happen. As he grew used to it he realized that he would blackout for just a moment, more of a mental brownout, really. By the time he realized he was turning into a mental paperweight yet again it had already passed.

 

 

 

So far, his precious mommy had demonstrated to Steve that she was the equivalent of Godzilla. Though, Steve reminded himself, that being a reptile, Godzilla did not sweat. Mommy did, and the droplets were the size of Steve's head. He had no choice, it was all around him and threatened to drown him. He quickly had a stomach full of his mother's rank toe sweat. It smelled vaguely of wine and of her. The enormous, rank walls of ridged femininity would endlessly cycle, squeezing into him, compressing his tiny form. Steve would cry out as his distended stomach would be flattened, the salty liquid, his portion of his mother's toe sweat, roaring up and out of his throat. He had no idea how many times he had thrown it back up as the enormous foot crashed down to the floor and into to him.

 

 

 

Steve distributed his mother's sweat over the two enormous toes which tortured him. He felt like some form of a parasite, locked into instinctively repeating some essential, yet insane biological process devised by a cruel evolution. Bethany's punishing toes sweat, her tiny-yet-essential shrew-sized passenger drank it up and then he would forcefully redistribute it, now tainted with his own mingling Steve-molecules. For what purpose? There could be no purpose for such a form of hell. Steve's stomach and throat hurt from the repeated forced ejection of the nasty substance.

 

 

 

In the darkness a hot spherical droplet welled down over one of his shoulders from above, from one of the columns of flesh which had captured him. It immediately, almost deliberately, flowed over his neck and his ear, he knew what was next.

 

 

 

"Oh, God! Not again! Mother! Please! Please get me out of here!"

 

 

 

The hot liquid was suddenly over the entirety of his face. Steve had managed to take in a breath just before it dominated his tiny features, the roar of the wind tearing over the enormous high heel around him was muted by the thick sweat. The foot was rising in the air and Steve shook his head as briskly as he was able to throw off the weighty, sticky sweat as the enormous flesh shifted in the dark around him. He could not afford to blow it free of his mouth and was forced to drink the remainder. It was starting again, soon he would be forced to spray this into the crevice, or onto the top surfaces of the monsters which held him in their slimy grip.

 

 

 

All in all, Steve was a tiny bug captured between his mother's unmerciful toes and subject to the whims of her foot and leg and hips.

 

 

 

She stopped walking. He expected it to begin again, but after a minute or more he realized that he might be safe. There was a faint sound from beyond the inches-thick leather shell. It was the bed receiving weight upon it. She had sat down.

 

 

 

The enormous toes spread wide and Steve found himself stuck face first to her big toe's vast, bulging inside wall. His mother was not Linda. Linda's sweat was thin and watery, sticky, yes, but perhaps because of her level of hygiene or her affluence, it was merely nasty. Bethany's sweat was like glue. There was so much of it and the viscosity was more like a syrup, wherever the enormous droplets had rolled in their escape there was left a trail of stickiness. Because Bethany's mighty feet were kept within shoes for so long during the course of each of her days, her feet were sticky fly-traps, or really sticky tiny-traps. The toes closed once again and Steve was ground between them as the leather around him creaked ominously. Steve was too tired to even protest. Suddenly, cool air flooded the shoe, and the enormous foot slid backwards.

 

 

 

Steve was blinking in the bright light, eyes stinging and watering painfully from his maternal salt bath. Far above him he heard a thunderous giggle lash the air.

 

 

 

"How did you like that, little thing? I liked it. You feel good down there! The way you should."

 

 

 

The thick toes were spread wide, waggling and reaching gratefully in the cool air. Steve knew that the cliff-like ledge was a bed; Linda's bed. The thought of that caused his cock to throb against the corrugated wall of flesh. There was a fine swishing, almost a rasping, rushing swell of a noise, like ocean waves. Steve caught a glimpse up the endless, powerful leg. Beyond it, beyond the enormous hips and breasts was his mother's smiling face. The noise was from one of her enormous hands which raced, gliding down the skin below her knee. The pale monsters, his mother's fingers bulged as they slid over the small swells of the bones of her ankle. His enormous mother smiled, her green eyes fierce, completely drunk on the anticipation of such a tiny body. The intimidating girth of her grievously huge big toe flex upwards, taking tiny Steve with it as a sticky passenger. His mother's distant face grinned widely from the far end of the tremendous body Steve lay glued to. The index finger took the lead as the fingers skated across the mighty veins of the soft instep. The fingertip swept over the soft cliff of the toe webbing and came on directly to him, mashing Steve harshly into the sticky toe flesh.

 

 

 

"Oh, you feel so good to mommy, Steve! Come here, bug."

 

 

 

Steve was peeled away harshly from the enormous digit. He rushed upwards, smiling tiredly as the cold air reinvigorated him. Steve was dropped into the incredible palm. He landed and managed to catch himself for the most part. His mother's nose and eyes came closer as her hand brought him to them as well. The pretty eyes looked him over.

 

 

 

"Feet, feet, feet. That's quite an appetite, Steve. But I think your eyes are bigger than your stomach. You know what, I haven't even gotten the chance to properly look you over. I know that there isn't much there, but still, I want to see."

 

 

 

An enormous finger rose above the palm and folded down. The huge fingernail slammed into him, what was really just a tiny movement of her digit. Steve was almost knocked out by the impact and was thrown on to his back.

 

 

 

"You sure are a tiny thing, aren't you? It certainly doesn't take much to devastate your world. I barely have to lift a finger."

 

 

 

Her cruel fingertip slowly lowered on to him. He watched as her head tilted while she smiled. The weight became unbearable and Steve slapped a tiny arm as he cried out. Bethany grinned delightedly, it didn't match up, the look on her face was meant for baby chicks, baby bunnies or kittens. Steve's vertebrae popped and he groaned as the blood was pushed into his face. He felt like he was straining to not cough, his eyeballs itched and felt pressurized.

 

 

 

"What am I? Tell me what I am."

 

 

 

The pressure increased and Steve felt his ribs flex.

 

 

 

"You're a goddess! You're a goddess!"

 

 

 

"Good enough. Stand up."

 

 

 

The fingertip relented and Steve fought to stand up, sucking in grateful breaths as he trembled, tears streaming down his face. The enormous eyes lowered until they were level with him.

 

 

 

"You look sweaty, Steve. Are you sweaty? Do you smell bad?"

 

 

 

Bethany's thick fingertips pinched his tiny legs between them, trapping as well one tiny forearm and hand in the firm crack of her grip. The impossibly large body raced downward almost at a blur and then Steve was in front of her face.

 

 

 

"I bet you stink."

 

 

 

A finger from her other hand reached out and touched what was exposed of him softly, arching him backwards severe enough that Steve worried about his tiny spine. Then Steve was brought to her nose.

 

 

 

"No way! No! Don't do that! Please! Please, mother! Noooo!"

 

 

 

Bethany slowly inserted the fragile piece of meat which stuck upwards from her pinch into a vast nostril. He was screaming as she did so and then he was shrieking. Steve's tiny eardrums popped as the hurricane-force winds cyclone upwards past him into the immense tunnel.

 

 

 

"Oh, God! You smell terrible!"

 

 

 

Then, he was again in front of Bethany's vast face.

 

 

 

"I guess I need to get some of that stink off of you, don't I?"

 

 

 

She looked him over, and the dense pads of her fingertips closed almost completely around him. She rolled him between cruel fingertips like a piece of wet lint. Steve was screaming, his tiny bones flexed as his joints popped.

 

 

 

"Oh, shut up! I'm not doing anything at all to you, Steve. Mommy's just cleaning you off, that's all."

 

 

 

Bethany smiled, as vomit was heaved outwards from the tiny, cupcake-sprinkle sized head. She moved her hand so it was no longer over her lap and pointed her fingertips down. Piss and vomit fell tinily to the sheet below as she watched, fascinated. She began rolling him even more softly now.

 

 

 

"You're all juicy, aren't you? Outside and inside, I guess. I'm sorry, Steve. Was that was your breakfast, hmm?"

 

 

 

Bethany stopped tormenting him and brought the tiny being up to her eye.

 

 

 

"Did you do that between my toes? Hmm? Did you make a mess there? Answer me!"

 

 

 

The glistening head shook no. She smiled and gently began rolling him again, enjoying the feeling of the tiny sliver of flesh, so thin and soft, like something fished out of a shower drain. This was her son, Steve. All of him. All at once. Right there, the lanky, tall twenty-three year old was not even really a lump. More like a bit of moist tissue, or cotton. A snippet of wet yarn. A piece of meat that had been stuck between her molars. That's what he felt like, something retrieved from her teeth after eating brisket. Steve was a scrap. Bethany smiled and reversed the direction of her gently moving fingertips.

 

 

 

"Good boy. I would have made you lick it up if you had."

 

 

 

As she rolled him slowly between her oversized digits he began to shake. She watched closely as the tiny body went limp. Bethany tilted her hand back and forth, watching the tiny head dangle and swing on the end of the neck, confined like a BB between the swelling pads of her clenched fingers. She parted her fingertips slowly in front of her eyes. Her naked son lay plastered face down to a fingertip, completely unmoving. But, if she squinted, Bethany could see breathing. Perhaps Linda was right. Perhaps she was not careful enough.

 

 

 

Bethany almost liked him better like this. He was more of a plaything for her like this. More of a doll. He had smelled like her rank shoes. It must be so terrible for him, she thought, but it wasn't entirely torture for him, the proof was right there. She scraped him off onto her palm and rolled him over under her thumb until he was face up. The tiny cock stood up at a right angle, defiant and proud.

 

 

 

Bethany brought her hand directly up underneath of her eyes. She squinted and shut one eye as she twiddled Steve's tiny manhood with her long orange pinky fingernail. He had somehow enjoyed being in her shoe. She was going to use that in the future. That was a good thing to know.

 

 

 

Bethany eased herself back onto the bed and slowly dragged the tiny unconscious form across the sole of her foot. She was nicely warmed up. All she needed was a little show. Bethany spread the toes of her bare foot and laid her tiny son across the "trunk" of her second toe. She gently clasped him there and began to slowly pleasure herself.

 

 

 

Five minutes later she could feel some activity between her toes. The little pervert was awake again.

 

 

 

"I want you to squirm for mommy. Okay? I need you to do that for me."

 

 

 

She gave him ten seconds and he gave her nothing. Bethany gently scrunched the toes which held him and got her desired response. She got to work now, and she would occasionally scrunch or roll him gently, coating him in her nasty funk.

 

 

 

Bethany just wanted to start her day right. That was all. Why did he have to be so selfish? He needed to comply much faster. They would have to work on that, they were now a team. Thankfully, this team was composed of a goddess and her single, tiny worshiper. There would be rules, there would be authority. Steve just needed to be trained sufficiently.

 

 

 

With a final long scrunch which drove the tiny thing into utter limp stillness again Bethany was satisfied. She retrieved her delightfully limp little toy and lay him on her rock hard nipple. He looked like a prisoner supine across the headsman's block. Bethany grinned as she lowered her thumb over him and held it steadily, her thumbnail hovering just above the tiny neck. Then, she pressed the tiny thing slowly into her nipple with her thumb pad, enjoying thoroughly how his tiny body stuck to her cloying skin. This was nice. No struggling, no familiar movements to remind her that this was Steve.

 

 

 

Weekends were for relaxation, after all.

 

Chapter 18: Desperate Fairy Kisses by V11

 

When Linda made it to her bedroom she knew Bethany had been awake before her and had been busy. Bethany was sitting on the edge of the bed. Linda caught a glimpse of her naked as Bethany scrambled to wrap the crumpled sheet around herself. Linda yawned and smiled, unsure at first how to take it.

 

 

 

"Good morning!"

 

 

 

"Good morning! You slept in! Really, I should have been the one to take the couch."

 

 

 

"You seemed like you were much more drunk than I was. You were upset too. You needed the bed."

 

 

 

Linda came in the room and glanced at the top drawer of her dresser. It had been moved. Linda knew that Bethany was wearing nothing other than the sheet, and her high heels. Linda caught the reaction; Bethany looked sideways into the thin air for a moment as she reacted to a tiny sensation. It was so obvious to Linda. There was a smell also. Linda didn't want to know, but she could tell. She could see it in Bethany's face. At least the redhead had been conscientious and had already cleaned up her mess. Linda hoped that Bethany had not frightened Mike, or “used” him in some way to further her morning pleasures.

 

 

 

"You had better let him out of there, Bethany. He's been through a lot, you know. I'm not sure if you remember-"

 

 

 

Bethany started chuckling.

 

 

 

"Of course, you would figure it out immediately. Mike isn't in your panty drawer to be punished, is he? The only one who really freaked out at all was Jesse, and that was because she and I hate each other. You've been playing with them, this whole time, haven't you? Because they sure are used to being handled. Mike didn't even mind being on the ground in front of me. He trusted me."

 

 

 

"I told you last night. We talked about this, I thought. Yes, I can't resist. I love playing with them. But there are limits, Bethany. Steve has been through a lot recently. I had already punished him for what he did… before you came over to take pictures. Your shoes… He shouldn't be in those shoes for very long. They are... old."

 

 

 

Bethany chuckled and removed her shoe. She spread wide her toes and Linda could see the tiny, dark lump was adhered to the inside of Bethany's big toe.

 

 

 

"Aww. Look, Steve! Look who's come to rescue you! It's your friend, Linda! She's worried about you!"

 

 

 

Bethany scraped him off onto the stiletto of her other pump-clad foot. She started laughing, he was plastered upside down to the structure.

 

 

 

Linda took an eager step forward and Bethany stood up. Bethany walked to Linda and turned around, smiling at her over her own shoulder.

 

 

 

"Go ahead, Linda. Take him. I bet you like Linda, don't you, Steve? She has such beautiful feet! Nice and clean. Well, Steve's waiting, Linda. I bet he likes it between your toes, if you've ever done that to my son. It's fine if you have. But if you do it again, I'd like to watch if you don't mind. Make sure he's being a good boy for you."

 

 

 

Linda raised her foot and spread wide her toes, ready to engulf Steve and the stiletto. Instead she shook her head and crouched, reaching out to free him with her fingers. Bethany laughed and stepped away.

 

 

 

"No, no, no! That's not fair, Linda. You told me I have to be a little bit bitchy with him. What about you? Don't you ever play with them using your feet, Linda? It's wonderful!"

 

 

 

"Come on, Bethany! Steve is very, very fragile! If he were full sized you could see what you've-"

 

 

 

"Oh, okay! But I'm going to get you nice and drunk one of these days and we're going to share him properly, Linda. You teach me how to be a good... mother... to my tiny little boy, and I'll show you how Steve likes it, what makes him pop his cork while he's between some sexy toes. You might have to try it out. It's... interesting."

 

 

 

The tired looking redhead took some soft and gentle steps in a little circle in front of the bed, smiling as she watched her right foot slowly impact down into the carpet repeatedly, her honey-colored prey slowly sliding down the tall spire. Bethany finally sat back down and with a predatory smile, she crossed her legs and captured the tiny thing, peeling him away from the dark spike. Bethany raised him up to one of her eyes and smiled she looked over her tiny son. She acquiesced and placed him gently into Linda's palm. Linda was studying him, the hand he lay in almost touching her face.

 

 

 

"You're probably right, I'm not careful enough, but... He's mine, Linda. You heard him last night. He wants me. He needs me, I'm his mommy!" Bethany grinned with a slightly unpleasant and dark amusement.

 

 

 

"Yes, but I'm not going to let you kill him. He needs to rest, Bethany. You don't know how to handle Steve yet. You are not nearly careful enough. You don't hurt them, do you understand? Also, well, you don't get to touch my son or Jesse. They belong to me. Okay?"

 

 

 

"Fine. All I want is Steve. Why don't you go and clean him up? I'm famished!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They both clean themselves up and ate. It was mid-afternoon before the mechanic called. Bethany approved the acquisition of another transmission. Linda saw her off around four, Bethany had called a taxi to take her home. She had promised to be back in the morning to see Steve and to spend the day with Linda.

 

 

 

It certainly seemed to Linda that Bethany had accepted Steve's request rather well. Bethany seemed very happy and relieved that her son was no longer missing. Moreover, the pact that Steve had wanted seemed satisfactory to his mother. Linda could see the dark delight that Bethany harbored whenever her tiny son was brought up. Steve had created a monster through his own actions. Linda could see where Steve had inherited his wanton zeal for life and his other peculiarities. Bethany had claimed him and Linda wasn't entirely sure that Steve understood yet what he was in for.

 

 

 

Perhaps, Steve did understand? There was an interesting parallel there between Linda and Mike, Bethany and Steve. Was each mother ultimately responsible for the fantasies of their sons? Had Bethany brought this about? While they were getting drunk Bethany had offhandedly mentioned owning over sixty pairs of high heels.

 

 

 

Had Linda created Mike's perversion herself? Linda didn't even know how many bottles of nail polish she owned. It was that bad. When she was in college there was a point she recalled when she had three pillowcases full of nail polish bottles in the back of her dorm room's closet. It had grown from there.

 

 

 

Each woman had emphasized something to an extreme. It didn't matter, thought Linda, Mike was where he wanted to be. Steve thought he was where he wanted to be. It was not up to her, thought Linda, if Bethany accidentally crushes Steve there would be nothing she could do to prevent it, short of monitoring every nasty, kinky interaction between them.

 

 

 

Poor tiny Jesse. Linda ate a sandwich and prepared meals for each tiny person. She tended to Mike and his needs before checking on Steve. He was asleep. Linda transferred Steve to the candy dish along with his food and water. She gathered up Jesse and brought her to the craft room, the tiny thing was hugging Linda's thumb tip tightly to her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"-it was stupid of me. I went too far. I didn't listen to you, you were right, Jesse. I disliked him from the moment I saw him. But, once Bethany found him there was no turning back. He begged me to not go through with it, Jesse. I had no idea. I didn't know. I thought Steve was, well, I guess nearly everyone looks normal from the outside. Even boys with blue mohawks."

 

 

 

"All I have is you now! Please, Linda! Please don't leave me alone! Don't leave me alone!"

 

 

 

Jesse started sobbing. She was in quite a state and had been so since Bethany had her triumph over the tiny thing. Jesse slid down the black metal frame that housed microphone. Her sorrow almost sounded like the sobs of a little girl. This was simple and overwhelming pain. Rejection, loss, alienation.

 

 

 

"I'll be good. I promise, Linda, I'll be a good fairy girl for you! Please, let me be your teeny-tiny fairy!"

 

 

 

"Jesse, don't say that. You don't deserve-"

 

 

 

Jesse was on her tiny knees, arms outstretched and imploring Linda's enormous face.

 

 

 

"Don't leave me alone! Please! Touch me! Play with me! Squeeze me! Put me... I want to go... under... I want to! It makes you happy! Whatever you want, Linda! Just don't leave me alone... I want to be with you! I want to be safe and warm... I want to be... I want to..."

 

 

 

Jesse lowered onto her face and hugged herself, bowed over into a tiny ball next to the microphone as she wailed. Linda extended an index finger and touched her lightly. When she drew back her finger to see her again Jesse was on her knees, her arms outstretched. She crawled on her knees for a moment and then was on her feet. Linda held her finger still and Jesse ran to it, wrapping her arms as wide as they would go and peppering the stiff flesh with kisses.

 

 

 

"Touch me! Please! Treat me like your toy! You have to! You have to, Linda! Don't leave me alone! Don't I belong to you? Well, come on, Linda! Dominate me! Be a monster! Fuck me, you beautiful, enormous bitch! Show me how tiny I am compared to you! I want it! I want it!"

 

 

 

Jesse's defiant shouts crumbled into tears again, "I submit to you, Linda, please! Come on! Do something to me you sadistic… you wonderful… Can't you hear me? Fuck me, Linda! I want to be on you all the time like you promised! You and I against all of the mosquitoes and spiders, like you promised! Don't leave me, I'm tiny and alone. Please, fuck me. Please, Linda. Please. You have to love me! You have to keep me... close..."

 

 

 

Linda gently took Jesse between her thumb and forefinger. She raised her up to her eyes and studied her. Jesse was babbling, one tiny arm imploring Linda. The tiny scream could barely be heard.

 

 

 

"Do it!"

 

 

 

Jesse was slowly lowered down to the flip-flop. The beautiful fingertips gently released her and the fall to the rubber was very short. Jesse was immediately up on to her feet and ran to the bulging wall of flesh that comprised the inside of Linda's big toe. Jesse threw her arms wide and greeted the ridges, her nipples grew hard as she kissed Linda's flesh. Far above her there was a feminine thunder.

 

 

 

"You're my little toy, aren't you, fairy-girl? And you like it, don't you?"

 

 

 

Jesse looked up at the colossus. Linda's face was peering down between her immeasurably long tanned legs. The goddess was smiling but seemed sad somehow. Almost to the point of tears.

 

 

 

"I want you to lay down under here. I have something for you."

 

 

 

The big toe raised, the flesh against Jesse receded as the enormous digit arched upwards. Jesse scrambled under it's shadow, the rubber floor here was hot and slightly damp. Jesse lay down and spread wide her arms and legs. She could see Linda for a moment as the goddess flexed her toe sideways. Both women stared at each other while Linda slipped her hand into her panties. Then the digit block Jesse's view. It began to lower onto her.

 

 

 

"I love you, you know, Jesse. You can explore anywhere you want. I'll do anything for you. I'll get you other dolls. I'll get you other lovers. I won't leave you alone, if that's what you want. I'll keep you safe and close to me, if that's what you want. But now I want to know more about that tiny body. I love that tiny body, Jesse. You're important to me. Can I... Can I make you shake and scream? I bet I can."

 

 

 

The foot slid backwards slightly and then Jesse was pressed into the beautiful digit, trapped like a bug. Linda began to explore. Jesse was happy and safe, Linda had her now. All she had to do was be tiny. Linda had her. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 19: In the Weeds by V11

 

If Steve recalled rightly it had been summer between his sophomore and junior year of high school.

 

 

 

Bethany had to meet a client on Saturday morning. The sun was already quite busy warming their deck as she made herself coffee. Bethany had to be there by ten in the morning, she had a bit of time to have a good, slow breakfast. Steve was not awake yet, which was not unusual at all. He had spent most of the night out with his friends. Bethany drank her coffee while she read the newspaper and nibbled on her toast.

 

 

 

Bethany got ready for the appointment and had decided on wearing her white pumps. She slipped the left one on and immediately realized something didn't feel right. Bethany removed the shoe and examined it and her hose, perhaps it had been a bug? There was a single drop of moisture on the heel of her foot, yet nothing within the shoe. She glanced at the clock again, making sure she was keeping pace and seated her foot home. Then, Bethany slipped on the right shoe. Her toes encountered a cold, partially dried puddle.

 

 

 

"Oh... My... God! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

 

 

 

Bethany slid her foot back out. The glossy, cloudy substance could only be one thing. She didn't have time for this! She would have to change her entire outfit if she didn't wear these shoes! Bethany limped lopsided into her bathroom and angrily cleaned up the shoe and her hose. She slipped a bit of toilet paper down into the toe of the shoe and slipped it back on.

 

 

 

Steve should have heard the angry, stomping footsteps, but he had gone to sleep late. He was face down in his bed as the door of his bedroom slammed open. Bethany was over the top of him, her face set hard with anger.

 

 

 

"Get up! You've had enough sleep!"

 

 

 

Steve slowly moved a little bit, in response.

 

 

 

"I said, get up!"

 

 

 

Bethany grabbed him by his stringy long hair and yanked. Steve cried out in groggy protest as Bethany forcibly assisted him up into a sit.

 

 

 

"Ow! Mom! What are you doing?"

 

 

 

Bethany let go of his hair, Steve tried to perceive her through the puffy slits of his sleep deprived eyes.

 

 

 

"You told me you would mow the damn lawn! Now, get up!"

 

 

 

"Fuck, okay, okay!"

 

 

 

"Don't you curse at me, Steve!"

 

 

 

"Christ! What jumped up your ass?"

 

 

 

Bethany went to slap him and Steve tried to duck, he was not yet awake enough. Bethany's hand landed right on his ear. Steve was knocked straight out of the bed and ended up on the floor.

 

 

 

"Mom! What the fuck?"

 

 

 

Steve held a hand to his head and grimaced up at her as he sat up, slumping against the bed. Bethany paced back and forth, hands gesturing wildly as she ranted.

 

 

 

"All you do is smoke pot and hang out with your little friends! You're useless!"

 

 

 

Bethany upended the tray containing Steve's hard earned relaxation aid with one foot. She grimaced in satisfaction as it all scattered across the floor.

 

 

 

"Hey! Well, shit! You didn't have to do that! Watch where you're walking!"

 

 

 

Bethany quickly closed the distance between them. She stepped intentionally onto the fingers of Steve's hand.

 

 

 

"Ooww! Mom! Ow!"

 

 

 

Steve was trying to recoil his painful fingers. He hunched over and pushed at the toe of her white pump with his other hand. Bethany relinquished and Steve withdrew his fingers quickly. She tapped the toe of her shoe down again but missed his other retreating hand. Steve looked up at her, his feelings hurt more than his fingers, he had them in his mouth and he watched her smile.

 

 

 

"I'll walk where I want to walk! You got that, little boy?"

 

 

 

Bethany stepped heavily over her son's outstretched leg, placing her foot down in the triangle of Steve's splayed legs. Steve's hard morning cock bounced with the hard footstep. Bethany raised her foot slightly, sliding it forward towards Steve's lap and aimed it, stepping down onto Steve's exposed morning wood. She pinned it under her foot and kept it there as Steve cried out.

 

 

 

"You got that, little boy, hmm? You had better be mowing the lawn when I get back, mister."

 

 

 

Bethany tilted back her pump and Steve grabbed his painful manhood. She stood there for a moment, smiling angrily and then pivoted, stomping out of the room.

 

 

 

Steve heard her pull out of the driveway. He was on his hands and knees, picking up each crumb of his stuff and checking it for errant hair or dirt before returning it to the tray.

 

 

 

What the hell had gotten into her?

 

 

 

Steve had finished mowing the lawn a while ago. When he ate lunch he felt better and couldn't take it any longer. He locked the door to his bedroom and relieved himself of his pent up tension, reliving the sensation and sight of his mother's beautiful shoe dominating him. He wanted to go a second time, but she really did hurt him a little bit. Steve decided instead to finally replace the U joints on the drive shaft of his car.

 

 

 

Bethany got home around three. Steve was underneath his car, laying on his back, almost done with the replacement. He watched with relish as his mother's pump-encased feet make it up the driveway towards where he lay. She slowed in her pace as she drew near. As she came alongside, Steve turned his head to face her and found it even nicer to shut his left eye as he watched her, peering at her feet through his eye closest to the driveway. The beautiful pumps menacingly picked their way through the scattered tools until they stopped directly alongside of him. He felt the urge to lick them.

 

 

 

"Steve? Are you under there?"

 

 

 

Oh, how he could construe that.

 

 

 

"Yeah. Just working. I mowed the lawn."

 

 

 

As he watched, his mother's pumps pivoted slightly and one of them raised and moved forward, coming down onto one of his cigarette butts which still smoldered. Steve shut his eye again and felt himself growing hard. That was really nice. Was she giving him a show?

 

 

 

"Thank you for mowing the lawn."

 

 

 

"No problem."

 

 

 

Steve grabbed hold of the car frame in one hand and pivoted on his tailbone. He inched his way out from underneath the car towards her. She stepped back.

 

 

 

"You want something to eat before I go?"

 

 

 

Steve's head was finally free from beneath car. The air was nicer here. There she was, almost directly above, looking down at him. He wished he could see her ankles, wished he could also see her shoes, all of her. He would have to be in a trench to do that.

 

 

 

"No, I'm fine. Where are you going?"

 

 

 

She stepped to the side of his head and placed both her hands on his car door, looking out over the lawn. Steve stole a glance at those magnificent feet encased in the nicely plain white pumps.

 

 

 

"Don't you remember? Kathleen wanted to go to the casino."

 

 

 

Bethany rubbed the back of her calf with her other shoe's top. Steve was quite pleased, in a few different ways.

 

 

 

"Oh. Okay."

 

 

 

Bethany looked down at him and smiled. Her leg moved, the white pump reaching out towards him and Steve felt the smooth white leather brush against the side of his face. It gave him chills.

 

 

 

"Mommy's sorry. I didn't mean to lose my temper with you this morning."

 

 

 

The beautifully enthroned foot stroked down his jawline. She's going to put it in my mouth, Steve thought, no she's not, that's just me. Bethany touched his chin with the toe of her shoe playfully.

 

 

 

"I know. I'm sorry I cussed at you."

 

 

 

Her foot raised, for a moment Steve could see the tread and her simultaneously before she retracted it.

 

 

 

"I'm going to go inside and get ready. Do you want something to drink?"

 

 

 

"That would be nice."

 

 

 

Steve watched as she walked away. Was she walking slowly, or was it because of his strange viewpoint? No, she was walking slowly. Did she know?

 

 

 

He waited a good half an hour after she had left before he went to her bedroom. This was odd, he thought, her white pumps were not on her shoe rack. They sat side-by-side neatly in front of it. She had not simply kicked them off. She had placed them there.

 

 

 

The temptation proved to be too much. He made careful note of exactly where they were placed before removing them. He was on his bed, on his back, quite high. Both white pumps were on his chest, the toes of them touching his collarbones, an excellent angle. Finally he couldn't help it, he pressed the tread of one into his face. The smell of burnt tobacco, a temporary record what she had done, what he had witnessed. He brought the shoe back from his face and looked at it with one eye shut to skew his focal point. This was a new thing, an exciting discovery for Steve. To imagine being that cigarette butt.

 

 

 

It didn't take long to finish after that realization.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Something touched him. Steve's eyes fluttered open and above him all he could see was the round tip of a finger. It was Linda, Steve knew these pieces of her better than her face. The warm pillar brushed down him gently and then retreated. There she was, looking down upon him with some concern.

 

 

 

"Hi, Steve."

 

 

 

She had never called him that. It was always "Steven". Not even once had she called him that. What did this mean?

 

 

 

"Mommy is here. I told her you were resting. You've been through so much these last couple of days. But, you're hers now. She doesn't care, well, apparently right now she wants you like this. You know, helpless and weak."

 

 

 

Linda bit the inside of her lower lip.

 

 

 

"She doesn't… She wants to do things a little differently now. She thinks… Well, she wants to make an entrance. For you. She thinks there should be a certain way you see her... at first. Every time, from now on, I guess."

 

 

 

Linda looked down for a moment and then she looked back at Steve. One beautiful hand swept in and softly dropped down close to the earring box, dwarfing it. Linda's enormous head pushed forward over him and lowered, filling the air with her scent and heat. Her other hand came in and her index fingertip hovered right above Steve's head. A droplet of water clung to purple fingernail's tip. She presented it to him, the thick guillotine hovered a few feet above him. The water droplet was enormous.

 

 

 

"I want you to drink this. As much as you can."

 

 

 

Steve lapped from the droplet gratefully. When he was finished, Linda wiped the excess onto her shirt.

 

 

 

"Okay then."

 

 

 

Linda gathered him up softly and took him to the craft room. She laid out a small square of dark cloth in the middle of the floor on the carpeting. Linda carefully placed him in the middle of it on his back. She stood back up and looked at him for a moment, somewhat sadly, before she turned away and quietly shut the door.

 

 

 

There were footsteps beyond the closed door. It slowly opened and Steve watched as his mother entered the room. Her eyes quickly found him there on the floor and Bethany smiled. She took a couple of steps into the room and shut the door. Steve realized she held a coat hanger at waist level, cascading from it was a dark skirt. Her legs were hidden by it.

 

 

 

Bethany stepped closer, keeping the skirt between her and her tiny son. With a grin, Bethany removed the skirt upwards, like the raising of a curtain. She tossed the skirt onto the computer chair and put her hands on her hips. It was the white pumps. Steve had not seen them for years now. He was sure that she had disposed of them.

 

 

 

"Do you remember these, little worm? Mommy found them this morning in a box. They have the strangest stains inside of them. I'm going to show you those stains. Maybe you can tell me what those stains are? Maybe you can show me? I wonder what they taste like? Don't you wonder that? I bet you do. Or you will."

 

 

 

The enormous feet slowly closed the distance to where he lay. As they approached, Steve was affected by their aftershocks. He wished he hadn't drank so much water. Soon Steve was flanked by curved, white walls on each side of him.

 

 

 

"You're mommy's worm, right? Is that right?"

 

 

 

One of the enormous feet lifted and Steve was nudged by the dirty white prow of leather.

 

 

 

"I don't like worms very much. Especially when I find out about stains in my shoes. You're going to help me with those stains, Steve. You want to help mommy, don't you? Of course you do. Otherwise."

 

 

 

The enormous white pump cut off Steve's view of his mother's vastly distant stern face. The worn tread lowered slowly over him. Steve was screaming as the tread continued eclipsing him. His semen geysered onto the scratched black plastic as the tread pressed into his soft body. Then tiny Steve was buried into the carpet fibers. Bethany's dominant foot rested effortlessly there, huge and mutely triumphant.

 

 

 

...can't do it. Can't get enough air. Can't do it...

 

 

 

No! They were just on his chest, that was all! He had time! She wasn't supposed to be back until later on! It wasn't fair! She would find him like this, trapped underneath her empty shoes.

 

 

 

...forgot. I slipped up. Cum dries really quickly, doesn't it? Hopefully...

 

 

 

Steve vomited and the inverted “V” shaped trough channeled the sickness away from his face. What had happened? What had gone wrong? He remembered vaguely putting them back right where they had been. He had matched them up perfectly with the slightly visible vague clues of their position in the carpet, in front of her closet.

 

 

 

...pulse so loud...

 

 

 

Nothing had gone wrong. It was fabulous! A miracle! She was just putting out the cigarette butt, and Steve had his wish fulfilled. What was the problem? This was amazing!

 

 

 

...blankets were too heavy...

 

 

 

This wasn't a blanket. Oh God! He knew where he was again! It had all came back to him! How could she do this to him! His entire room was under here with him! Somewhere directly behind him were the smashed and broken remnants of his bed. His pot was here too. He would never find it on the bottom of her magnificent shoe. Her feet were easily sixty feet in length, that was, that was a train car! A bus! He would never find such tiny crumbs. Please stop crushing my dick. No. Wrong. Please stop crushing...

 

 

 

...such a nasty smell, dry and old...

 

 

 

He couldn't move! Where was he!!? Oh. Oh shit. He had just watched as she walked, surely she could understand that he couldn't resist such a view? What the hell had she done? Did she kick his car? Bat it away like some empty soda can? Shit. She had better not hit the neighbor's house with it! He needed that car! He was almost done. He was just lining it back up to put through the bolt. Why wouldn't she let him up? He needed to see if the neighbors were okay!

 

 

 

"Stupid little worm," Bethany smiled smugly as she stared at her old shoe, "are you under there? I want to play now. Mommy wants to play with you."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Of all the stupid things, it had to be a water pump," Steve said around the mouthful of overly-peppery beef jerky.

 

 

 

"Well," Linda made a face, leaning completely over the engine, left arm fiddling between radiator and engine block, "these are old cars. Stuff like this is bound to happen. You buy them from a junkyard and expect to have them up and running in three days? Oh! I got it!"

 

 

 

Linda threaded the last bolt on and stood back up, grabbing for the ratchet. Her face was covered with smudges, her hair escaping the hastily done ponytail. Steve eyed the trailer across the fairgrounds from them. Jesse caught his gaze and stared at him from in front of the distant trailer as she wiped her hands off onto her coveralls.

 

 

 

"As far as I'm concerned, they are the only competition," Steve frowned.

 

 

 

"You're taking this awfully seriously, Steven, dear. Remember, this is just for charity."

 

 

 

Steve leaned in and kissed Linda on the clean area of her cheek.

 

 

 

"With you as my mechanic I can't lose."

 

 

 

Linda stood up and stowed the ratchet back in the toolbox. She cleared everything from the engine compartment and shut the hood. Steve stared at the hood, dumbfounded.

 

 

 

"What?" Linda grabbed up her beer, "don't you like it? I told you I would give her a good paint job."

 

 

 

Linda ran her hands over the glossy red surface. Steve came up to it and touched it, it was rather thick for a hood, inches thick, and convex. The long and bowed hood stuck out past the radiator grill a little ways, creating an overhang, like a battering ram.

 

 

 

"That's gonna get beat up, you know? Why did you spend so much time on that?"

 

 

 

Linda ran her hands over it again and grinned. She bent at the waist and laid on it, resting her head to the side with a big smile, her arms outstretched, hugging it.

 

 

 

"I don't know. I just like stuff like this! It's pretty! Don't you like it?"

 

 

 

"Pretty won't cut it. They're not going to have something pretty. They're going for power. It's a demolition, Linda. You can be such a girl sometimes."

 

 

 

Linda was smirking, lovably being irreverent and completely ignoring Steve's logic. She was eating little snacks from a greasy paper bag, writ large in magic marker with a single scrawled word: "Mikes", apparently a local specialty she had bought at one of the state fair's many food stands. Shrill, tiny screams wafted out of the paper sack, it sounded like a proper massacre. Steve noted quite calmly that they were all alike, all his roommate, all naked as Linda popped them into her mouth, crunching down on them as they erupted in a final anguished shriek. One of them waved to him before Linda's beautiful teeth crushed him to pieces. She wiped blood onto one of her coverall's sleeves and took a sip of beer.

 

 

 

"She's a realtor, Steven. Her mechanic is some cute little thing, a Poli-Sci major. You're going to wipe them all over the arena. I guarantee it."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of the cars never did move when the flag was waved to start the race. The driver couldn't get it started. Exhaust stank up the air and cars slammed into each other, body panels crushed and caught against each other. Cars dragged other cars around before the metal fatigued and gave way, wrenching combatants free of one another. Steve managed to keep from being broadsided and gunned his car up to a fair clip, a good thirty miles an hour across the arena.

 

 

 

There was the realtor. Steve caught motion out of the corner of his eye and turned to watch one of the cars get demolished. An enormous high heel slammed down onto it, there was a ferocious crunch and Steve could even feel the tremor in his own stripped-down driver's compartment. The shoe was a hodgepodge of different leathers stitched together, tiny strands of barbed wire wrapped around the toe of it. The stiletto itself had sharpened pieces of angle iron welded to it, the primitive anti-personnel measures of a dystopian world after an apocalypse. Bright orange spray paint spelled out the words "FUCK YOU" across the side of the enormous footwear. The gigantic foot twisted thoroughly and then was gone, disappearing upwards into the sky again. The defeated car was not much more than something resembling steaming, flattened tinfoil mingled with black oil and gasoline.

 

 

 

Steve cranked the wheel and slid a bit before traveling around the wall of the arena in a large circle. He pushed his helmeted head out through the glass-less aperture of the car door and craned his neck upwards. There she was, the realtor, sitting on an immense metal bar stool whose legs touched down outside of the arena on one side. It was somewhat difficult to see her clearly, given how large she was and the fact that she was directly overhead. Bethany was looking down, a partially eaten bagel in one enormous hand, an opened hardbound book in the other. All Steve could tell was that the book was by Sigmund Freud, and the bagel was covered in cream cheese. She looked disinterested as the tiny cars circled her other foot that was still placed inside the arena.

 

 

 

Steve was broadsided and his head slammed back and forth, the hood of the other car was right there, it's engine roaring as Steve's vehicle shuddered and was pushed sideways into the wall. His attacker began to back up and Steve desperately threw his own car into reverse. In the center of the arena two cars slammed simultaneously into the enormous nasty looking pump. The stitched leather skin popped at the seams and flaps of the piecemeal covering were torn away. The crowd roared as the vast foot was revealed. Huge toes wiggled from the tall platform and the shoe's pieces fell away. Steve heard a thunderous, dissatisfied sigh over the roar of the engines. The musty smell of her revealed foot mingled with the exhaust fumes.

 

 

 

The incredible, stocking-clad foot launched sideways from the tattered wooden platform. The sixty foot long appendage roamed the arena overhead. What was once a game played on equal terms became a massacre. Cars were sent tumbling with a flick of the big toe or outright overcame from above while in motion. Either scenario eventually ended with the mighty digit pressed to the ground, bulging plumply as it created a shallow dished depression where there was once a vehicle. A few of the drivers exited their cars and tried to flee. Their fate was just as bad, popped juicily beneath the goddess' toe or engulfed between them and ground to death in a bone-crunching scrunch.

 

 

 

Then it was his turn, the unstoppable foot came straight for Steve. The enormous toes captured the tiny car in a head-on collision. Steve was stunned for a moment. Netting covered the space where there was once a windshield as his old tires popped explosively. An enormous toe closed on each side of his tiny car. The engine screamed and the wheels spun as the car tilted, slowly airborne.

 

 

 

Steve struggled with the seat's harness as the car doors started to deform. He was caught in his own exhaust cloud, he coughed as he fought with the safety belt latches. The car had tilted at such a crazy angle that Steve was standing on the gas pedal as he leaned on the steering wheel with his elbow. The passenger compartment was almost gone, the floor of it had now turned to a wall not far beyond his right ear. The metal sealed around him as the mighty toes closed, Steve could feel the jagged edges press into his soft flesh. He was screaming as the roaring engine seized with a terrific noise. Black and thick smoke surrounded Steve and he began coughing, dying as Bethany's toes flattened the car between them further.

 

 

 

Steve awoke, surrounded by an entirely different kind of smoke. His lungs felt like they were on fire, the thick, gray smoke blinded him completely. Almost his entire body was clasped tightly in a trough of hot, ridged skin. One tiny arm and his head were free and he struggled as his coughing fit grew worse. The smoke thinned quite suddenly as the flesh around him moved. Steve was now in a smoke-filled cave made from fingers, then there was light as the flesh around him transformed into an open hand. The low and bulging walls of the trough Steve had been captured in disappeared, transforming into two swells of an immense palm.

 

 

 

Steve lay limply in the monstrous hand as he coughed. Peering down at him was his enormous, smiling mother. He was in the craft room and the feminine colossi were sharing an illicit substance. Bethany had slowly exhaled an entire goddess-amount of smoke into her closed fist over her son.

 

 

 

"That was too much, Bethany! He's going to be completely wasted!"

 

 

 

His mother leaned over him and was suddenly just a chin, an enormous mouth and the underside of her nose. She was grinning at him, exposing the wall of beautiful teeth.

 

 

 

"Steve can handle it, can't you, Stevie?" The giant mouth whispered sultrily.

 

 

 

Across the room was Linda. Steve could plainly see two tiny beings huddled in one of her beautiful hands. Linda didn't seem to be particularly good at imbibing at all. Linda did not blow smoke onto Jesse or Mike. Steve felt a pang of loneliness? Jealousy? As he stared at the tiny beings.

 

 

 

"Come on, Linda! They probably want some too!"

 

 

 

"They're so tiny, Bethany, I think just being in the room is probably enough."

 

 

 

Bethany took the smoking twist of paper from the blonde. She inhaled deeply and her next words were croaked, stifled intentionally as she held in the smoke.

 

 

 

"Nonsense! They want to have fun, Linda!"

 

 

 

Bethany cupped her hand and moved forward as Steve tumbled across the moonscape of flesh. Bethany got so close she could have licked Jesse and Mike from Linda's hand. She gently opened her mouth and the thick smoke rolled across them.

 

 

 

"Bethany!"

 

 

 

"There! Now everyone can have fun!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 20: A Toast at Poolside by V11

 

Mike admired his handiwork, pink hand prints pressed neatly onto each of the enormous beautiful toenails. Linda had asked particularly nicely if he and Jesse would help her put designs on to her toenails. Mike was the first to dip his hands into the liquid latex and then Jesse's hands and feet were dipped into the cold glop. After their strange gloves and Jesse's boots had dried, Linda spread a small amount of non-toxic nail polish onto a bit of waxed paper. Mike was in charge of his mother's smaller toes while Jesse was in charge of Linda's twin big toes.

 

 

 

"That looks really good, Mike! You're beating me!"

 

 

 

Mike turned and smiled up at Jesse. She was above him, gripping tightly the edge of one of Linda's tightly curled pinky fingers for stability as she took slow, deliberate steps across the enormous toenail.

 

 

 

"I can't wait to see yours!"

 

 

 

Linda was smiling at them, a tremendous and very real goddess. She kept giggling down on them as they worked. Mike was pretty sure that his mother only had a passing familiarity with the particular party favor Bethany had brought with her. His mother was more of a drinker, if anything. Mike knew that she was more apt to relax by having a glass of wine after exercising, or while tending to her nails. Linda in this one regard seemed constructive, always healthy and she derived pleasure mainly from self maintenance, from beautification… and expensive wines.

 

 

 

Mike was done with both sets of toes and struggled through the carpet to the large square of waxed paper. He slowly worked free the thick lip of latex past his left wrist with his teeth and tore it open far enough that there were flaps he could grab with his paint-sullied hand. He peeled away the latex and felt a rush of cold air which began to quickly evaporate the trapped sweat. Mike freed both his hands and then Jesse was lowered to the waxed paper, clinging to the end of an enormous Q-tip.

 

 

 

"Could you help me, Mike? I'm sort of stuck here."

 

 

 

Jesse had paint on each foot and each hand. Mike laughed and started to peel away the latex from both of her hands. She was smiling at him, incredibly buzzed, but there was something else there as well. It was right between them, almost poking Jesse in her leg. Mike's hard cock. He couldn't help it, he never could when Linda was in view, she was simply too much, too wonderful and overwhelming for his libido to ignore. Jesse was staring at him as he worked free the latex. He didn't have to even look at her, he knew what she wanted.

 

 

 

Jesse leaned in and gave him a deep kiss as she grabbed his cock. Mike went to grab her hips and Jesse pulled away from him. She smiled sexily and turned away, Mike watched as she struggled through the carpet, heading towards one of Linda's feet. Jesse headed to the left foot, the one that Mike had done first. She looked over the toenails.

 

 

 

"These are beautiful!"

 

 

 

"Well, I tried to not-"

 

 

 

Mike's train of thought died in his throat. Jesse was clambering up onto the top of the second toe and turned around, facing outwards towards the toenail and Mike. She hugged her arms and legs around it as widely and as tightly as she could. There was a low thunder overhead that sounded distinctly feminine, a giggling trill. The toe arched upwards, taking tiny Jesse with it like a long toe ring. Mike watched, stunned, as Jesse began to caress the cuticle with her tiny hands.

 

 

 

Bethany thundered, "she did that all by herself! You're wasted, tiny girl! Do you think that pretty toe is a giant cock?" Bethany snorted and then laughed.

 

 

 

Jesse seemed to recoil with a frown as Bethany spoke. She was flustered and hurt looking for a moment and then Mike saw resolve flood into her face. She inched forward and smiled at Mike for a moment before she pressed her face into the cuticle. She was licking and nibbling along it's great curved expanse. Jesse ran her cheek against it and took hold of her hair, stroking it across the rim-like seal protecting the nail bed. Mike watched as she began fingering herself with one hand as she lay pressed to the great pillar of flesh.

 

 

 

What had his mother done to her? Was this Stockholm syndrome?

 

 

 

Mike could barely handle the sight, he was greatly conflicted and confused. He was incredibly aroused, he always was when Linda would allow him to watch as she would "play" with Steve or Jesse. But, simultaneously, Jesse's behavior was totally inverted, a diametric transformation from the biting and berserk tiny banshee that Linda usually squeezed and smothered.

 

 

 

Mike stepped off the waxed paper and waded through the carpet towards Jesse. The monumental big toe arched magnificently into the air and the enormous bulk of it was gentle with the tiny girl. It engulfed her as she lay wrapped around the long toe, tearing her slowly from her perch. Jesse was pulled gently down the side of the second toe and then into the crevice between both of the sexy digits as Linda cooed huskily. There were no cries and no punches were thrown. Mike watched as Jesse's head and arms emerged, she was pressing herself into Linda's mightiest digit. Her tiny hands traced slowly in a wide arc across the bulging wall that comprised Linda's big toe.

 

 

 

Jesse turned towards Mike as he came close to the frightening digits. It was very warm here within the vicinity of Linda's enormity. Jesse smiled at him with heavily lidded eyes and then turned away to press her tongue once again between the grooves of the toe print.

 

 

 

"Jesse. You're gone, girl! You're not going to be happy with yourself. My mother is going to take advantage of this later. Come on, you should probably-"

 

 

 

Jesse turned towards him and smiled. She reached an arm out and grabbed Mike by the cock. She pulled and Mike yelped, he staggered towards her and his left leg became caught between the bulging wall of big toe and it's little sister as they squeeze slightly against Jesse.

 

 

 

"God dammit, Jesse! You're not going to like it when she-"

 

 

 

Jesse kissed him on the mouth, thrusting her tongue onto his and spreading his mother's metallic sweat, sour biscuit-like tasting funk and spent pheromones onto and into Mike's mouth.

 

 

 

"You're so silly, Mike! I love her! I love being tiny! Don't you think she's beautiful? She is so nice to me! I want to live on Linda, Mike. I love her smell, and how she squeezes me. I love it when she fucks me with-"

 

 

 

Mike tugged on her and managed to pull her away from the slowly pulsing toes. They narrowly avoided tumbling down into a heap and Mike heard his mother exhale sharply in amusement far above them.

 

 

 

Bethany's voice thundered from overhead, just across the way from where their goddess sat.

 

 

 

"Steve! It looks like you didn't even try! I told you to make it spotless!"

 

 

 

Mike and Jesse watched as Bethany removed a bottle cap from within one of her discarded heels. The giantess sat it down on her own knee and picked up the pump from the carpet. As they watched the gargantuan redhead removed something tiny from her heel and held it up to her stern face.

 

 

 

"You couldn't keep your damned room clean and you never did your chores. Everything was dirt bikes and skateboards and getting high. Stealing and lying and fucking your little girlfriend when you weren't sinking that cock into mommy's favorite shoes! Well, you're going to shape up now, Steve! That's right, Mommy is in charge now! You're going to toe the line, or somebody's toes are going to take you apart piece by piece."

 

 

 

Jessie grabbed hold of Mike's hand, sad and helpless concern coloring her face. As they watched, Bethany dipped the tiny being between her fingertips into the bottle cap on her knee. Her fingers dripped with soapy liquid and they heard the delicate and underpowered sounds of coughing.

 

 

 

"I'll show you how to clean this filthy shoe, Steve. It's easy! I'll put that tiny body of yours to good use. All I have to do is just pretend your whole body is your teenaged cock and fuck my shoe. The only real difference is it's just soap, not cum, that's all, that's the secret. Little prick in my shoe then, a little prick in my shoe now. Easy peasy."

 

 

 

Jesse clung to Mike as Steve's tiny pleadings reached their ears. Bethany's shoe was interposed between her stern face and themselves as her thumb and index finger dipped within it. Steve's pleadings swelled to panic as Bethany apparently abused him against the gigantic fetid surfaces within the shadowy leather cavern.

 

 

 

"See, Steve? All you have to do is put your back into it. Did you forget how to grind? This is how you grind. I don't expect much, little thing."

 

 

 

Bethany lowered the pump to her lap and Steve's tiny protests grew a bit louder because of it. Mike and Jesse were privy to something new: Bethany gave Linda a broad, happy smile as she tormented her bug-sized son. They were both outside, beyond the torment for once. It was a strange sensation to realize fully what was happening to Steve and yet, simultaneously, to know that to Bethany this was some sick form of fun, a distraction. A tiny game perpetrated utilizing two drops of washing-up liquid, a pair of massive, feminine fingers and a shoe. Hardly something that should equal a car crash, a tiger attack, enhanced information extraction, or a gang beating. But it was, and from the outside, from their viewpoint it wasn't even real, Bethany was not even angry. It was torture theater. It was a contractual fidelity meted out under the clause of ultimate vulnerability.

 

 

 

Something enormous touched Mike and Jesse. It was one of Linda's beautiful fingers. She was smiling down at them as she placed four upturned fingers in a tight row on the carpet in front of them. Mike and Jesse scaled the tacky, ridged pillar's firm, spherical finials and when they were safely surrounded by enough sweet smelling flesh the hand slowly raised upwards. Linda stood and turned, slowly walking to one of the tables. She place them down next to the wine glasses and blew them a little kiss as as she receded upwards in the sky.

 

 

 

"I'll be back in a little bit, I can't hold it any more!"

 

 

 

Bethany laughed, "okay, then! Don't fall in!"

 

 

 

Linda gave her an amused look and thundered away, out of the craft room.

 

 

 

"You're useless, Steve! You can't even clean a square inch of my shoe properly!"

 

 

 

They could both see that Bethany had him pinned underneath her finger in the heel. The colossus shook her head disapprovingly. She sighed as she looked up. Mike and Jesse watched as Bethany's huge green eyes traced across the tabletop until they lit upon their tiny forms. Bethany turned and looked in the direction Linda had gone and then found them again on the table.

 

 

 

"I don't like this, Mike! Oh no! No, no, no!"

 

 

 

Bethany carefully lowered the heel to the floor and stood. She slowly made her way over to them, due to her size she almost seemed to rotate over them rather than walk straight to them. Her huge form shot upwards and her steps began to throb through the table as she began to visually distort.

 

 

 

"Just go away! Oh God, Mike! Miiike! Don't let her get me! Oh, God!"

 

 

 

Jesse turned and ran, eliciting a smile from Bethany. The enormous wall of woman crumple downwards in front of Mike, gales of displaced air buffeted him and then he was knocked from his feet as her knees impacted the carpet. The enormous face smiled, the beautiful sleepy eyes were locked onto Jesse.

 

 

 

"Oopsie! Did the little things fall down? I'm sorry!"

 

 

 

"Leave her alone, Bethany!”

 

 

 

The enormous lips puckered and-

 

 

 

"My mom is going to-"

 

 

 

-Blew.

 

 

 

Mike was thrown from his feet, landing painfully on his back as his head hit the hard floor. He cried out in pain as his tiny naked form was pushed by the hot wind across the wood-grained melamine surface. He was going to have blisters on his shoulders. Mike was dazed and immediately curled into a ball, both hands clamped across the back of his head. One of Bethany's hands flew low over the top of him, the wind in it's wake reeked of lavender.

 

 

 

"Oopsie, again! Such a pretty little thing, aren't you, Jesse? But so tiny! Maybe Linda will let me take you home with me?"

 

 

 

Jesse was screaming and Mike rolled over as well as he was able, at first he didn't know where she was, all he could see was Bethany's thick meaty thumb tip pressed to the table. The screams were coming from there and Mike finally saw something tiny, it was in the shadows where a bit of the cruel flesh's bulge had met some resistance and left a tiny space. Jesse's tiny head was that resistance, Mike could see her pretty mouth and chin just visible in the twilight of the subtle interruption.

 

 

 

"You don't like me very much, do you, Jesse? I'm not as pretty as Linda or you, am I? I'm just not as lucky as Linda. I'm also not twenty-two anymore, like you."

 

 

 

Mike stood up, hunched over as he held his head.

 

 

 

"Bethany! Leave her alone!"

 

 

 

The vast head turned towards the tiny shrill whisper and Bethany smiled, Mike could curl up in one of those dimples. Like one of those rattan, dish-shaped chairs you can buy from an import store. Except it would be soft, and warm and very much temporary, even more ephemeral than rattan.

 

 

 

"Hush."

 

 

 

The other monstrous hand shot upwards from beyond the table. Bethany's thick fingertips closed on Mike, his scream was cut off by her rough pinch. His hips felt like they were going to disintegrate as his tiny legs were flexed in bad directions. The enormous pads relaxed for a moment and parted slightly. Beyond the swollen crevice was a vertical landscape, a partial sampling of Bethany's serious face. She merely looked at him and frowned, irritated, then the deadly fingertips closed once again, molding around all of him like rubber-clad concrete. Mike was released and plummeted into the bottom of a mostly empty wine glass. He went under with the force of Bethany's release and came up sputtering. The wine was cold and Mike was trying to dog paddle as best he could. Bethany's enormous eyes swept in level with him and watched as he tried to remain above the surface.

 

 

 

"This is your mommy's glass. Maybe she won't mind if I finish it?"

 

 

 

Fingers impacted the enormous structure and tight circular ripples raced and collided around Mike's head, echoing the circular walls of the champagne flute. Then he was bobbing back and forth violently, the motion was sickening. He watched as above him the wall of cheerful face swept in, the tip of the vast pretty nose parked itself directly above him and hot, depleted breath blasted and swirled across the surface of the wine. The full lips became incredibly mobile and attach themselves to the rim on one side, creating fog-auras on the glass which ringed the squashed, ample pillow of lower lip. Then, of course, Mike found himself suddenly at the edge of a rapid wine waterfall. There was a sound whose existence he had never considered before, the deep and hollow roar of the liquid cascading into the cavern of Bethany's wonderful mouth.

 

 

 

Mike was inexorably drawn towards the lips and as he approached they curled up into a small smile. Then he was screaming, the cruel monster heard it and her mouth parted further, revealing the great floodgate of teeth. Mike had the tiny thought that Bethany was drinking in an unusual manner, just for him: her enormous upper teeth were lowered and clenched against the rim, interposing themselves between him and her stomach.

 

 

 

Then teeny-tiny Mike was against the teeth. He was pinned sideways against Bethany's upper teeth and the wine covered him completely as it rushed past. In a moment it was over and Mike was left stranded as the glass departed. Mike tried to push himself away from the hard smooth enameled surfaces but the residual surface tension slowed and retarded his efforts significantly. All he managed to do was slide downwards across the gently curved white façades to the vast divan of Bethany's lower lip. There was a twitch which shuddered beneath Mike then Bethany spoke slowly and carefully. As she did so Mike was deafened and completely blinded by the huge terrible vibrations. His world jumped and rocked as the teeth and lower lip articulated the leviathan's words.

 

 

 

"Well, hello there, Mikey!"

 

 

 

The consonant "M" that led his name caused Bethany's lips to squeeze against him in the articulation. It was a cocktail of disorientation and pain. He was deafened, sickened and rattled by the vibrations, then squeezed unmercifully as she pronounced his name. Then it got worse as Bethany's lips gently shut, trapping most of him between them. The cruel, playful colossus smiled widely. The silky soft flesh instantly transformed, hard as granite. He cried out in a panic and struggled. His tiny cries only made things worse as Bethany's smile widened further. Mike was so pathetic that he was being crushed by a woman's smile. A giggle erupted and it seemed that the cold, hulking teeth vibrated like tuning forks. Again Mike was blinded and completely disoriented as his inner ears reeled from the pressure, volume and vibration.

 

 

 

Something pressed him deeply into the lower lip and then he was rolled in the slime. Bethany's cruel fingertips had him and she crushed the air from him. The enormous lower lip held on to his right shin and instep as long as it could. The lip itself deformed as it was dragged outwards, Mike's leg dislocated at the hip and he was screaming, clawing against the thick fingertips that were suffocating him. The sound of an enormous slither rent the air just in front of him and Bethany's lip rebounded. Mike's hip let out a dull pop as his femur reseated itself.

 

 

 

He found himself facing squarely the luminous green eyes.

 

 

 

"Aww. You're so cute! I want to take you home too!"

 

 

 

The colossus pitched him forward at her face and Mike was confronted by the tip of her enormous nose. It came on, the firm, fleshy prow as massive as a compact car. Bethany was studded with pores here and covered with a thick coating of glistening, protective oil. Mike was rubbed gently against the tip of her nose as she stared at him, cross eyed.

 

 

 

"I promise that you would like me, Mike! It must be terrible to be tiny and a prisoner of your own mother. I can't imagine. It must be some sort of a Freudian nightmare for you."

 

 

 

Mike was now laying on the end of Bethany's nose. He coughed as a fingertip brutally pinned him face first into the cloying oil that smelled of cigarettes and wine and french fries. Mike was rubbed up and down slowly, the huge mesmerizing twin globes blinked and not only could he hear it as a dull snap but he could feel the air as it fanned out from the long eyelashes. Her skin vibrated as she spoke and Mike became very hard because of it and because of where he was.

 

 

 

"I bet that you haven't had any attention for a long time. You poor thing. Maybe Linda won't mind if I play with you with my toes? I promise to make you cum. Your mommy is so cruel! Doesn't she understand that tiny college-age boys need release? Poor little thing has to sleep in his own mother's panty drawer! What did you do, Mike? Did you get a girl pregnant? Did you make mommy angry by dancing at that club? Is that why she keeps you there? Linda should give you that little whore. I hope she does. Steve doesn't care, he's a pervert. He'll never touch her again. He belongs to my feet now."

 

 

 

Mike shuddered and came, leaving a tiny bit of semen on the enormous nose. The colossus didn't notice, though her eyes were right there.

 

 

 

Bethany's fingertips closed around him and he was pulled away from her face. She smiled at him as he floated there in front of her. Bethany's fingertips tightened and Mike tried to cry out but his oxygen had already been forcibly expelled. His tiny bones popped as the pillows of ridged flesh slightly passed each other, rolling him a half turn.

 

 

 

"Goodness! I got you all greasy on the end of my nose! I'm sorry about that, little boy!"

 

 

 

Bethany frowned with concern as she watched the tiny stream of piss cascade away from between her fingertips.

 

 

 

"You ungrateful little-"

 

 

 

The mighty digits pressed in suddenly and Mike's face was lost as the fleshy vice bulged shut above him. There were popping noises all around him and the terrible roar of the black wall of unconsciousness which overwhelmed him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mike found himself laying in a puddle of wine which was clinging to him thickly. He was once again in the champagne flute. He must have blacked out for a moment. The entire structure of the glass was rapidly stealing the rest of his body warmth. As he began to shiver he could hear Bethany and he could see what she was doing beyond the distorted curve of the thick, glassy wall. Mike pulled himself to the transparent surface and rested his face on it. She had not killed him. He might be bleeding internally. He couldn't tell if she had broken any of his limbs yet. It hurt to breathe and he could only take shallow breaths before he reached a jolting threshold of pain. His lip was cut open against a row of his own teeth. Mike's nose was swollen and beneath him was a messy shape resembling an avant-garde rose, his own blood from his nose most likely, it was mixing with the dregs of the wine. Then there was the enormous goose egg on the back of his head. Mike wanted a doctor. Mike wanted to go to sleep, but Jesse was now in danger again. Maybe if he could rap on the glass hard enough the monstrous woman would pay attention to him again and leave Jesse-

 

 

 

She would kill him if he did that. Mike knew it. Bethany's touch could easily be deadly.

 

 

 

"That takes care of that. Do you like it underneath my thumb, Jesse? I've got a better place for you. Some place you belong."

 

 

 

Bethany lifted her thumb and pinched her up, Jesse's upper body stuck out of the crevice. She was screaming and beating her fists against the unfeeling colossus. Bethany stood and turned away. She seated herself again in her chair. Mike watched as Bethany brought her fingers up to her face. She was smiling as Jesse flailed. Mike could hear the giggle as Bethany softly ran a fingertip against Jesse's exposed form. The screams turned to shrieks.

 

 

 

"Such pretty little titties. I always liked them. You scream too much, little thing."

 

 

 

Bethany retracted the finger and pinched her upper body as well, stifling the tiny screams as she grinned, fascinated.

 

 

 

"That's better. You like to scream? I've got a place for you then, little girl. You can scream all you want."

 

 

 

Bethany let go of the tiny upper body. Jesse was limp, laid out across Bethany's swell of thumb. The redhead gently stroked the tip of her tongue across Jesse's exposed body and smiled at her.

 

 

 

"There. Now you've got some proper lubrication. I want you to slide. Ooh! Makes me wet just thinking about it!"

 

 

 

Jesse was delicately placed in the other pump. Mike realized that he was now drunk. It was the alcohol which had been absorbed through his skin. This was a wonderful blessing of natural anesthetic. Mike pushed past the pain and was finally able to gather much-needed oxygen. As he watched, Bethany carefully slipped into both pumps. She seemed to be in concentration for a moment, perfectly still. She began laughing at some unknown cue, at tiny sensations against both sets of her toes.

 

 

 

Suddenly the beautiful form of Mike's mother was back. As she thundered gracefully to the table her blue eyes were searching across it. Finally she found her tiny son and a grin lit up her face. The glass tower was smoothly retrieved and brought up in front of her features.

 

 

 

"What have you been doing in here, Bethany? I go away for five minutes and you cause all sorts of mischief!"

 

 

 

The beautiful blue eyes were slightly crossed and she took Mike's tiny form. His hard-on was back.

 

 

 

"You're as bad as a toddler with toys!"

 

 

 

Bethany was laughing delightedly and she resolutely pressed her feet into the floor before twisting them slowly. She rocked forward, putting part of her weight into the effort. Linda's lovely index finger probed carefully down into the glass, rescued him, smearing his tiny form across the glass and towards the rim. Mike simply gritted his teeth against the pain, he would be able to breathe again in a moment. Then, he was freed, plastered to the thick digit helplessly. Linda's eyes looked him over curiously as a pinky fingertip touched him reassuringly.

 

 

 

"Mike is limp as a fish. Bethany? Bethany! Mike's face is bleeding! What have you been doing to him!? Bethany! Where is Jesse?"

 

 

 

Bethany's right foot flexed and rotated at the ankle before she pressed it once again to the floor decisively. She smiled at Linda like a Cheshire cat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 21: Mutual Assured Destruction by V11

 

"Please, Bethany. Please, Bethany, just let me have her! She's so frightened of you!"

 

 

 

Bethany's eyes were shining and she grinned perversely. Linda could see the top surface of the pump's toes slightly distort as Bethany's digits arched and worked over her tiny prey.

 

 

 

"They feel so good, Linda! I love how they feel! I wish you would try it! Come on, try it with me! Mike won't mind! I bet the little thing is about to burst! It isn't perverted, Linda, he isn't your son anymore! He's just a tiny little bug! Isn't he your plaything? You're so cruel to him, Linda! He's a young man! He needs to let out that pent up energy!"

 

 

 

"Bethany! I want Jesse, right now! Take her out of there or I will!"

 

 

 

"No! I'll squish her if you try! I've got her right where I want her. Oh, Linda! She's biting me! She's biting my toe!"

 

 

 

Bethany shivered and her mouth worked, almost grimacing with the tension of the tiny bites as she took in shivering, ecstatic breaths. Linda could tell that Jesse's struggling was driving Bethany absolutely wild.

 

 

 

"I wish… Oooh! I wish you would tell me how you found them! I wish we could shrink more people! Oh! I want hundreds! I want them all over my body!"

 

 

 

Bethany focused her eyes onto her left foot. Her lips quivered and she smiled mischievously. Linda for a moment could hear something, it was Jesse's falsetto, wafting up around the monumental toes and across the instep to finally be released into the enormous world where it was almost completely unnoticed.

 

 

 

"Don't you dare hurt her!"

 

 

 

Bethany looked up at Linda and pouted, her sleepy eyes heavy with alcohol and something else. She squinted at Linda for a moment and then pulled her head back in a sudden realization. Bethany's eyes were big and she grinned widely, her face softening into a sort of perverted enchantment, a nasty sort of bawdy gentleness. Dominant feminine lust colliding with a tenderness.

 

 

 

"Oh... my God! Linda? I never realized... Oh my! Oh, Linda! If I could shrink people... I would shrink... you! Oh, how pretty you would be! I'd love to feel you bucking underneath one of my toes! Just like this! Oh, Linda! I'd keep you so close to me! You would be my special little thing! Oh, God!"

 

 

 

Bethany was wide-eyed and fighting with herself to keep her fingers away from her crotch. She was almost completely overcome with her drug-addled vision of Linda, shocked by it, in fact. But, she also seemed afraid that she had gone too far. She would lock eyes with Linda, seeking some sort of approval but then she would become lost, distracted or overwhelmed. Bethany would end up staring at Linda, taking her in, looking her up and down slowly as her face oscillated repeatedly from a possessive lust to a giddy affection. Linda had never seen someone act like this. Well, she had, but she had always been able to get away from those men's aspirations of lust that were centered completely and unhealthily on her. She suspected that in Bethany's case it was the drugs.

 

 

 

"I wouldn't hurt you. I promise, I wouldn't hurt you, Linda!"

 

 

 

Linda knelt in front of Bethany and looked her in the eyes.

 

 

 

"Don't hurt Jesse. Take Steve. Take him home with you if you have to. But, Jesse doesn't deserve this. You hurt them, Bethany. You hurt Mike. See? He's bleeding. Let me have Jesse."

 

 

 

Bethany slowly reached out and stroked Linda's hair.

 

 

 

"I wouldn't hurt you," Bethany whispered, "I would keep you safe. I just… I would just like to feel you… like that… like them. Feel all of you at once. You're so pretty! I would want… to touch you… trap you... keep you… under my…"

 

 

 

Linda slowly slipped off Bethany's shoe. Bethany leaned forward and kissed Linda sloppily on her cheek before hungrily zeroing in on her mouth. Linda's fingers explored the sweaty toes carefully as she kissed Bethany back, keeping her occupied. She felt for the tiny lump, the squirm, the tiny reaching arms like toothpicks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mike and Jesse were tended to. Linda had made a tiny bed for them using the earring box and placed it on her nightstand next to her own bed. Mike swore that Bethany had only hurt him superficially, but the tiny thing was unable to walk or even stand at the moment. Jesse wouldn't stop shaking and clung to Linda's fingertip, crying the entire time. They were both like tiny dolls at the moment, completely helpless. Linda made sure they were comfortable, arranging them as well as she could using her fingernails and making sure they were properly tucked in and warm, side-by-side.

 

 

 

Bethany was on the living room couch, Steve cupped in a palm. She was whispering to him as Linda got a glass of water from the kitchen. Bethany smiled sadly as Linda softly padded by her again to her bedroom.

 

 

 

Bethany brought her face close to Steve.

 

 

 

"Where were we? Oh, yeah."

 

 

 

Bethany's fingertips closed around one of Steve's tiny legs and tugged it upwards. She could barely see him beneath her enormous digits.

 

 

 

"You tell me the truth, Steve! Or I'll break this little leg, do you hear me? You don't need to walk! I'm going to be doing all the walking from now on for both of us. All you have to do is squirm and lick. You can squirm crippled just fine. Now, you tell me, right now!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What was she still doing up? Linda turned and watched as Bethany came over to the bed, looking for her, looking around. Bethany spotted her in the closet and smiled apologetically. The redhead came over to where Linda knelt in front of the large open safe.

 

 

 

"Hi."

 

 

 

"What do you want, Bethany? I'm going to bed."

 

 

 

"About earlier…"

 

 

 

"You were high, Bethany. So was I. You just don't listen to me. You hurt them because you aren't careful."

 

 

 

"I know. But…"

 

 

 

Bethany's eyes fell onto the perfume bottle. Linda realized there was a look of recognition there.

 

 

 

"What I said, you know… about you… you know… if I could shrink you."

 

 

 

"Bethany… you were high!"

 

 

 

Bethany's apologetic face was suddenly shot through with a steely determination. She tensed and her hands opened, coming up to grab, to struggle.

 

 

 

"Oh, I meant it!"

 

 

 

Linda sighed and shut the safe. She stood up and locked eyes with Bethany. The redhead was crestfallen as she stared at the safe, deflated. Linda's fingers softly landed under Bethany's chin. She turned her face square with her own and looked in Bethany's eyes for a moment. Linda spoke gently to her without any malice whatsoever.

 

 

 

"Steve saved you. He wanted you just like this so he could have his fantasy just once. But his mommy liked the idea, of all the crazy things! But, you had better learn how to keep your son alive, Bethany. Because you are not touching Jesse and Mike again. What are you going to do after you accidentally crush or smother Steve? Come over and watch me play with them while we get drunk? Without Steve I might get ideas."

 

 

 

Linda brought her face close to Bethany's own. She smiled and stroked her cheek, settling her thumb over the spot where one of Bethany's hidden dimples slept. Linda cradled Bethany's head with her other hand from behind as she brought her face so close as to almost touch.

 

 

 

"You're so pretty. Beautiful! I wouldn't hurt you, Bethany. I would just keep you, you know, underneath me. At my soft feet. Where I could feel you, all at once. You would be my special little toy. I'd like that. Wouldn't you?"

 

 

 

Linda kissed her on the cheek and walked past her into the bedroom. Bethany followed.

 

 

 

"How does it work, Linda? How long does it take? Do they always end up so tiny? Come on! Answer me! Linda! Come on! I want to shrink someone! Linda!"

 

 

 

THE END 

 

 

You must login (register) to review.