As he dangled in the air, Caleb struggled to find words.
“Come on, B-britt you do-“ he began only to be cutoff by Brittany
“It’s Miss Dunham, squirt.”
“Miss Dunham. Please. You don’t wanna do this. I mean, you
wouldn’t even feel anything.” Caleb’s screamed as his arm dangled from between
Brittany’s right thumb and forefinger.
“I do think you’re right about me not feeling anything,
that’s why I sent Damien first. Two of y’all should make up for things.”
Brittany shot back.
Caleb’s body shook as he looked down. Brittany’s vagina was
held open by the fingers of left hand. He thought he could make out Damien’s
body writhing within. He turned his head back up to his cruel owner just in
time for her to bite her bottom lip, lift an eyebrow, and shrug.
Brittany released her grip on Caleb and watched as his small
body fell the 10 inches she was actually holding him. It took only 2 seconds.
Caleb’s naked body soon landed on the moist, plush surface.
It was surprisingly comfortably, but soon Brittany’s scent surrounded him. Caleb
gagged with each breath. He looked out and up into the sunlight. “Miss Dun-“the
tiny voice began to sputter before being cut-off once again.
“Have fun for the next week, Caleb. If you find Damien, give
him a kiss for me.” Brittany beamed to her newest pussy pet.
Caleb was sealed in darkness as Brittany’s fingers moved
from their spot. He screamed as the walls tightened around him.
Brittany smiled in satisfaction and squeezed her thighs
together. At her size, Damien and Caleb were practically imperceptible, but
just the thought of the two men having absolutely no way free and being
completely at her body’s mercy made Brittany shiver.
Regina, Lauren, Lyle, Tanner, Chad, Ben, and Roger all
watched emotionless from within their glass cage.
“How I wish that were me.” Chad mumbled under his breath, but
still earned a shock from Brittany.
“Don’t be a perve.” Brittany chided as she rolled off her
bed and stood to her full height. Her arms stretched above her head.
The 7 prisoners stared as Brittany’s arms extended above and
her toes pressed into the ground. Her toes and fingers wore an emerald green
polish. Her calves and thighs flexed putting Brittany’s powerful leg muscles on
display. Her ab muscles taunted the tinies as their bodies had grown soft and
out of shape. And, finally, her powerful arms stretched above, framing her
deceivingly angelic face between them.
“MMmmmmmm!” Brittany’s mouth chewed out a yawn, “That was a
dang good stretch, y’all. Now time for me to get dressed and head down to the
gym. Busy day!”
The girl had been on the absolute top of the world as her 26th
birthday approached. Her program had been a massive hit. People were begging to
be signed into servitude by Vilecio all for the chance to become like Brittany
or others at her level. Instead, they were used for testing or sold to those
who could afford it.
“V. Play the news.” Brittany commanded.
One of her bedroom walls turned into a room-sized screen
with a smiling female Anchor.
“I’m here at the V-Spa on Frenchman Street where business is
busier than ever. Vilecio’s new employment program has given jobs to those who
had no other place in the world.” The camera began to pan out to show the woman
was seating in a spa chair. “In fact, I personally have benefited from this as
my two sons chose the Vilecio route instead of college.” The camera finished
panning out to show the anchor sitting with her feet propped up on a
white-leather stool. It then zoomed in to show two tiny boys working tools and
lotions onto her feet.
“Are those little Jeremy and Brad?” Another anchor’s voice
popped-up.
“You bet they are, Jen! Making mom proud by being productive
members of society! Signing off, Joan Smith, Action 4 News.”
The camera then showed the scene back in the studio as a
different woman’s face was presented. “As many of those watching us may know.
Our station and hundreds of others recently became part of the Vilecio family.
I would like to assure you that this will not change the news we bring you or
how we down. However, you may notice some differences in the way we do things.”
The anchor head then tilted downward with a smile, “Isn’t that right, Bill?”
The camera panned to a 6-inch tall man standing by the
anchor’s coffee mug. He tried to hide behind the vessel, but was left bare to
world as the woman’s hand lifted the cup to her lips for a sip.
“You may see more of my coworkers like Bill here on set, but
don’t be alarmed. This is just a new restructuring plan in place. Joan will be
joining me here in the studio as my new co-anchor while my former coworker here
will be our new little assistant. He’ll be making sure Joan and I stay awake
and chipper to bring you the best stories and most important news.”
With this, the anchor placed her mug back onto the newsdesk,
accidentally pinning Bill underneath with a squeak-like scream from the
insignificant man.
“Whoops!” The anchor laughed as music began to play and the
station cut to commercial.
Brittany checked herself out in her closet’s mirror. She
wore a tight purple tank top and black sports bra. Her massive legs wore a pair
of black yoga pants which her toned glutes, quads, and calves.
She lifted her arms to flex for herself, her biceps formed
effortlessly and with impressive size. Beneath each arm, she had glue a
shrinkee. Lyle stuck to her left armpit with Vilecio’s patented Tiny-Tack and
Roger was under her right.
Meanwhile, her feet encased in a pair of bright yellow
running shows enjoyed the feeling of Hailey, Lauren, Ben, Regina, Tanner, and
Chad all squeezed tight together as living insoles.
“How about a 5 mile run to get things started and then about
an hour of lifting?” Brittany asked aloud.
This earned screams from her captives.
As she stepped from her home, Brittany was hit with the
humid warmth of the late-morning. Noon was fast approaching and things were
getting hot and sticky.
“V. Weather.” Brittany tapped her ear.
“83 degrees. Sunny. 85% humidity.” The feminine robot voice
answered back.
“Y’all are going to be soaked.” Brittany spoke aloud before
telling V to play her workout playlist.
Lyle watched the world go by from within Brittany’s armpit.
Witch each gait, Brittany’s arms pumped. Her heartbeat throbbed in his ears.
The sweat formed quickly and came in torrents. The Tiny-Tack being used was a
new product Brittany had been asked to test before Vilecio fully introduced it
to the market. He prayed that it would keep him secure; as much as life sucked
now, he could only imagine falling off Brittany’s skin and being eaten by a
wild animal or crushed by an unsuspecting passerby.
As much as Lyle and Roger suffered, the sextuplet under Brittany’s
feet had it much worse.
Hailey screamed and wept in the darkness as her body was
secured to the shoe’s insole by more tiny-tack. Brittany’s giant bare sole bore
down on her, Regina, and Chad with an unending pounding. Every time Brittany’s
foot lifted, Hailey and the others had a milli-second to catch their breaths
for the other shoe, literally dropped. Whenever the massive appendage hit the
ground, the shrinkees were pressed deep into skin. A suction like affect
forcing them to breath out and then breath in the equivalent of buckets in
sweat.
Brittany’s eyes focused on the road ahead, but she took
notes with each step. How Lyle and Roger felt under her arms and how well her
sockless running shoes worked in conjunction with the shrinkees.
And so, Brittany’s workout routing went. She grew stronger
while her trophies withered. Objects to act as steppingstones for her success.
2 hours later, Brittany returned home. She stepped into the
cool air of her foyer. Her body was slick with sweat. She stopped at the entry
mirror and checked her self out. Her tank-top had become a darker shade of
purple after being drenched in her sweat and her yoga pants, though black, were
clearly darker around her crotch and ass. She lifted both her arms to reveal
Lyle and Roger who were bright red.
Brittany laughed, “Y’all look like a couple mudbugs. Did I
steam ya to death?” She teased.
Lyle and Roger both were silent and only gave thousand yard
stares.
“Well, I’d say y’all shouldn’t be too worried. Looks like
just some friction burn. Sorry for not shaving this morning. I would say that
you two were excellent in helping me test the Tiny-Tack.” With this, Brittany
game a girly chuckle and placed her arms down.
The giant girl then knelt down and unlaced her left shoe.
She slowly and deliberately removed her foot. She couldn’t help but noticed the
reddened skin and vascularity of her foot due to the increased blood flow. As
she continued to pull her foot loose, the suction forced some of the humid air
from inside to rise into the air.
Brittany coughed as her own odour hit her nose.
“Oh God. Y’all. That is rank.” She grimaced and pulled her foot
fully free. From this point, she reached inside and carefully removed the
insole
Brittany smiled as the nearly two-foot long foam cushion
dangled in the air.
Lauren, Tanner, and Ben lay flat. Their bodies securely
attached to the sweat-soaked fabric. They had been placed directly under
Brittany’s instep. Vilecio’s knew it would require too many shrinkees to act as
full insoles; as such, they were going to market a 3-pack of shrinkees as an “arch-support”
system.
“Y’all. I just wanna thank you so much.” Brittany spoke to
the trio which where held before her face. “That was the best workout I’ve had
in ages. I beat my personal record for 5 miles and set a max for squats. I think
we’ve found our new home-run product!” She squealed.
Lauren’s stomach dropped as she was reminded, like always,
that she wasn’t a person. Merely and tiny, and object, a…product.
“How about I let y’all
dry out while I watch some TV and relax before hopping up to the bath?”
Minutes later, Brittany’s two insoles hung in an open window
to dry while she lay on a massive sofa in her sun room overlooking Cheestnut
street. As she lay with her body fully stretched out, ankles crossed; she
focused on the TV. Her arms arched above her head. Her body in a full relaxed
position.
Still stuck to Brittany’s insoles, the six shrinkees could
do nothing but wait for their owner to set them free. Ben stared ahead, his
body completely pruned from the moisture of Brittany’s foot. His eye settled on
Brittany’s right under arm. Roger’s lobster-red body still affixed securely.
Brittany absent-mindedly chewed her check and splayed and
curled her toes as she watched TV. A daytime talk show played on another Vilecio
owned station. The hosts were talking about the must have products of the season.
“V. Increase Volume.” Brittany asked her electronic
assistant.
The room soon filled with the sound of the shoe.
“And ladies,” one of the younger hosts of the show was
talking, “If you’re going to be flaunting those feet this season. Don’t go
bare! Have a friend, or two!”
The camera panned to a model dressed in gladiator sandals.
Her ankle was wrapped by two smaller women wrapped in a circle.
“Oh! Adorable!” One of the older hosts shouted.
“Thank you, Margerie!” the previous host replied, “And
actually, this is a cameo by my two child-hood best friends Amber and Ashley!
It was my way of giving back after they both lost their jobs in this recent
economic downturn.”
“Oh that is so kind of you!” Margerie added.
The camera then zoomed in on the two women who were clasped
ankle-to-wrist as they wore forced smiles. Their eyes showed evidence of having
been crying.
“Another great product from Vilecio!” Margerie chimed in.
“Yes indeed…” Brittany answered to herself as she glanced
over to her hanging insoles. “…and we got so many more for y’all…”