It was the strangest sensation, Herbert thought, to be lounging in
this princely chair while a fairly literal goddess sprawled across the
floor in front of him.
“Get out of your chair,” she said abruptly, and just as abruptly he sprang from his seat and stood at the edge of the rug.
“Herbert,” she said, and his heart melted. “I know so much about you, is it not so?”
“Yes, you seem to, go—… your mightiness.”
She giggled, as delicately as any geyser. “”You mustn’t need to call
me anything like this. I am not royalty, not by your human standards.
Although perhaps I am, in the same way you have come to prize gold above
all other metals.“
Questions began to emerge in the terrain of his brain-meats, but one held true: “Then what should I call you?”
The big, beautiful woman rolled to her back. Her dress performed the
uncanny trick of sliding away from some areas and clinging to others, so
that she was never more than tantalizingly exposed. It enticed Herbert,
but slightly less than that, it drove him a little crazy to be
cock-blocked by a dress. “What should you call me…” she said, rolling
the idea around in her large mouth. “I have a name, of course, but I do
not think you have yet earned the privilege of addressing me by this. I
have given this away cheaply to men who did not deserve it, but…”
Silence filled the room. Herbert felt the silence descend and swell,
pressing him back from the giantess. He struggled to not collapse into
the chair again.
“I talk so much! Why do I talk so much?” Again she giggled, and again
his mind struggled to reconcile such a gentle sound with such a
massive, threatening body. “You do the talking now, Herbert. It is not
my place to spill all my secrets and give everything away to such a
newcomer. Isn’t that so? Yes, you must entertain me.” So saying, she
crossed one immense leg over the other knee and let her foot loll in the
empty space.
Herbert could only stare at it. Every square inch of this woman was a
miracle. He couldn’t afford to miss out on any piece of her. Her sole
was a little rough, but not dirty, and just then he realized that as
large as this cavern was, it was probably not tall enough for her to
stand without stooping. “How miserable that must be,” he said, beyond
thinking.
“What is?”
He stepped back in alarm; his heel banged against the chair. “Sorry, nothing, I was just thinking aloud.”
“Then speak aloud and entertain me, little man.” Some of the mirth left her voice in this sentence.
“I was just… I’m sorry, you large, glorious woman, but I was studying your foot.”
“My little foot? My cute little footsie?” The playfulness returned.
She waggled her foot at him, a foot that was longer and broader than his
entire torso, and this she waved at him as easily as a handkerchief to a
sailing ship. Any one of her toes, he could have taken up in both
hands… “What is it you noticed about my darling little footsie?”
Eyes on the prize, he told himself. “It’s just that your foot isn’t
as dirty as it should be, you know, from walking around like the rest of
us people do. If I walked around this city without any shoes or socks,
my soles would be almost blackened with dirt and tar and trash and
God-knows-what. But yours are… almost pristine…” Her thick toes waggled
at him, and she waved her foot around in a slow, wide circle. His arms
lifted from his sides, entranced, reaching for the extremity, aching
only to experience this wonder, the thick big toe that waved around at
him, the darling spherical toe-tips that lined up behind it…
“And?” Her foot stilled in an upright position, baring her sole at him.
“And…” Herbert panicked. All conversational threads had fled his
mind, replaced by the desire to somehow grind out an orgasm against the
broad, flat plane of flesh she presented. “And, and, I mean…” He studied
the ball of her foot, puffy and thick where all else was wrinkled and
depressed, and light caught the glint of silica between the wales of the
skin’s ridges. “If you’re walking around in here, your feet should be
dirtier. Generally, I mean, but of course you have means of washing
them. If you so choose, I mean, who does one such as you need to
impress?” He laughed; she did not join him. “I was just wondering
whether you’re able to stand up and stretch yourself out in here. Me, if
it were me, that is, trapped in a room that was too small to let me
stand up, why, I might go mad.” There, that was very well said. Herbert
straightened out his lapels and—“Not that you’re mad! I’m not saying
that at all! No, it’s just me, weak little old me, I might not handle as
well as some people could. You, of course, you’re capable of anything,
far beyond my meager, pedestrian imagining, surely.”
Then she laughed. Herbert watched the giantess’s head slowly cant
back into the expensive rug, heard the rasp of corded layers of hair
against the floor, watched her lips part and her throat work up and down
a couple times before her bosom heaved to release a deafening peel of
rich, sincere merriment. Her breasts punched against the living dress;
her shoulders drove back into the carpet with each guffaw; the gentle
pudge of her belly rocked and shimmied with her laughter, and once again
Herbert wanted to throw himself at it, lose himself in it, become
absorbed into her living tissue…
Wait, what?
“You are the little charmer, Herbert,” she said in an accent like
opium. “You speak from the heart, unafraid, without apology or
explanation. This! This is why I like you.” Her head rolled to the side
to regard him; her face was plastered in amusement. “So many other
stupid men try too hard to use words they don’t understand and construct
clever phrases they half-remember from books. But you, I can tell.” One
long arm lifted and one thick finger pointed through the humid air at
his chest. “You just open up your stupid little mouth and let it all
out, without filters or trying to impress me. As soon as you think it…
no. No, that is wrong.” Her fair brow furrowed and she squinted at the
ceiling of the cavern. “As soon as you feel it, you speak it.
Yes, as soon as the notion forms in your warm little heart, out it
comes! Out it comes to land in my ears and crawl the long way down to my
own heart.” She grinned at him, all the way up to her eyes. “You were
not a mistake, Herbert. Among all other men, you might earn everything
you are paying for.”
The momentary rush of pride at this indefinite accomplishment nearly
wiped the question from his mind: “What happened to the other men?”
Her face soured and turned away. “Oh, Herbert! How crass. Do you like
it when your girlfriend speaks of all the men who came before you?”
He thought about that: he’d never really had a girlfriend, not for
long, and any ten of them wouldn’t be as large as this woman. “Well, no,
I suppose not.”
“Then please do not ask me to engage in this distasteful pastime.
Especially when you have a limited number of requests you may make.”
“What?”
“Did you not hear me? Was someone else speaking over me?” The
titaness swung her huge head around comically, scanning for the
ostensible perpetrator.
“I just meant… a limited number of requests?” The implication of
rules he did not know suddenly weighed upon his head and shoulders. Of
course there would be rules! One doesn’t simply lock a scrawny little
man in a room with a living goddess and there aren’t any rules!
She laughed again. The laughter was less playful, sharper than
before. “It is very convenient that you are such a dumb little man. If
you were too clever, this would be a lot of work for me. Thank you for
sparing me that unnecessary labor and letting this simply be fun for
both of us.”
“Both of us?”
“You are having more fun than you are aware of, my little puppet.”
Her foot swayed enticingly once again. “You will see. Now: undress.”
The idea shook him badly. “What?”
The giantess released a long, heavy sigh. Herbert could feel the
breezes of the room shift and adjust to the new current she presented.
“Let no one suggest that you did not ask your woman enough questions on
your first date.”
“What?”
“But let no one suggest they were good questions. Herbert,” she said,
dropping her voice, “your queen commands this. Take off your clothes
and present yourself to me.”
“All my clothes?”
“Sacre merde…” Her hands curled into fists, and her arms
swung to pound into the expensive rug. “I will tell you how to do every
little thing, like a dull little child, yes? Take off your jacket and
your pants. Do it!” she barked, when he stood there dumbly. “Oh, la vache,
yes, take off your shoes first, and your socks. Take off that ugly
little shirt I cannot believe you wore to visit a goddess. And there,
stop, that’s it. Stand there in your underwear, do you understand? Is
this clear enough for you?”
And so he did: he stood in his plaid boxers and sleeveless
undershirt, shivering in the dank, humid air of the cavern beneath the
most expensive neighborhood he’d never heard of. Out of reflex, he took
the time to fold his clothes and leave them in a neat pile to his right,
then wondered if he’d wasted too much time in this and further
attracted the ire of this titaness.
“Now, you walk around to my feet.”
Herbert only barely restrained himself from asking what she meant by
that. Throwing fate to the wind, he walked around the perimeter of the
Persian rug to where her feet planted upon the ground. Her knees peaked
in semi-clad arches from her broad hips and the rest of
giantess-country. It was likely, he sensed, that he could shrewdly peek
up the split in her garment, right between her colossal thighs, to spy
upon the epicenter of her femininity, but no sooner did the thought form
in his skull than he rebuked himself. He stared furiously at the
fringed edge of the rug, berating himself hotly in his mind, telling
himself how privileged he was to focus upon the row of heavy toes lined
up on either side of him.
These toes were a marvel unto themselves. He could have stepped on
her big toe with his entire foot, with plenty of room left over. If he’d
stepped between her big and second toes, she could have casually
twisted her foot and shattered his ankle, even his shin, into a hundred
splinters. He could have sat upon her foot like a long, low bench,
easily. Even her heel, taken in total, was larger than the mass of his
own head. As a matter of fact…
He could only watch as one hefty thigh drew back, one meaty calf rose
before him, and her rough, dusty sole planted upon his chest. He
staggered back, catching himself against the entirely incidental force
of this woman’s mere darling footsie slamming into him. He wrapped his
arms around her toes, as though to support himself with them or else
cushion them from impact if he did collapse, but he found himself
rebalancing upon his spindly legs and remaining upright. Appalled at his
audacity, he released her foot and stood at attention before her… well,
below her, perhaps.
He released her, but he discovered she hadn’t released him. Her thick
big toe rested upon his left shoulder, and her other toes wrapped
around his right shoulder, curling cutely, stroking him, caressing him.
The short bones of her big and second toes fit neatly around his entire
neck, holding him there as though he’d been constructed for it. His chin
rested upon the webbing between her toes, and his nostrils filled with
the salty, dry musk of what bacteria built up there. Certainly they were
freed of the various fungi that could cultivate within women’s
traditional shoes, lacking ventilation and building up moisture in the
darkness; yet this gigantic woman lived entirely underground, in these
mysterious caverns, and even if she couldn’t erect herself fully, there
was no telling what it was she crawled through when she needed to
stretch her limbs and examine her domain.
Herbert couldn’t see the giantess’s face anymore, nor the swelling
foothills of her huge boobs. All he could see were two tremendously
meaty thighs rubbing delicately against each other, partially clad in
this mysterious living fabric, and one beefy calf that hung from the
shin that pointed dead at his chest. This led to the tenderly turned
foot, despite its massive size, that reached up to pinch his pencil-neck
between two darling toesies, holding him as securely as any cold iron
shackle yet hugging him like an excited lover. The ball of her foot
wrinkled against his chest, pinching at his shirt.
Dazed, he raised one hand to stroke the huge bone that ran down the
bridge of her foot to lead to her big toe. Her skin was… so smooth, so
warm… with tender little hairs that bent, reluctantly, under his
fingers. And just under that layer of tender skin, he could feel the
stout bone whose responsibility it was to support the rest of this
mighty architecture. It felt stern and serious, single-minded in its
task, yet it was caked in the softest, smoothest, milkiest flesh…
He didn’t know what to do. Herbert had no idea what was expected of
him at this juncture, where she clenched his neck with her toes and hid
her nonverbal communication from his beady eyes. Yet he embraced her
foot with one arm, and she did not tell him not to. He stood just off
the sacred carpet, beside a foot that could have shattered him into
pieces, caressing the farthest limb from this giantess in a cavern of
dimly glowing lights. And, oh yes, he stood there in his underwear, that
should not be forgotten in this laundry list of weirdness.
The titaness’s lilting voice drifted over her bodyscape. “What is it you want from me, Herbert?”