“Okay Alisa… tell me what goes through your mind when your mother shrinks you,” the green-eyed lady asks. This is different than I expected. I had imagined I’d be lying on a couch, looking at the ceiling as she took notes… I guess that’s just a cliché. Instead, I’m seated in a chair directly across from Ms. Pattie, her red hair draping down her shoulders as she looks me square in the eyes.

I close my eyes for a moment. It’s hard to describe the feeling I get when I’m shrunken. This lady… Ms. Pattie…. is the first person I’ve ever even tried to talk to about it. At first I was glad the guidance counselor is a woman, but it hasn’t eased my heartbeat all that much. I’m not sure how to start. At this point I’m not even sure if I want to talk to her anymore. The only thing that moves my mouth is the fact that, at this point, it’s becoming more awkward to continue in silence seeing her bright green eyes piercing me.

“Well…” I force out. “Sometimes… when we’re in class…” I start, my voice trembling. “…when Mom's teaching, she’ll suddenly stop and say my name. If she thinks I’m not paying attention or something. And I hear everyone laughing… they know she’s about to take me to the bathroom and shrink me.” I stop. My voice sounds odd to me, like I’m listening to someone else talk.

“I see,” she replies gently. “And your mother is an advocate of in-shoe discipline, correct? You don’t feel like she’s treating you fairly?” she continues. After a moment I bite the bullet and quickly shake my head, looking at the floor with my heart racing and water appearing along the rims of my eyes. I’ve just stepped out of line by questioning my mother: It’s her right to do with me as she sees fit. But surprisingly, even though I’ve braced myself for the flurry of rhetoric I hear at home and at church, Ms. Pattie doesn’t scold me. Instead she just looks at me, probing me to speak again using her eyes.

“It’s just… since Mom started shrinking me… everyone makes fun of me all day… and I don’t have any friends. And if I screw up, even just a little bit, Mom shrinks me, and tosses me in her shoe,” I continue, feeling the tears welling up. It feels good to actually say this aloud, to put into words what I’ve been feeling. “I mean… sometimes… I think…” I stop.

I look up at Ms. Pattie, waiting for me to continue. I don't. “What do you sometimes think, Alisa?” Ms. Pattie eventually continues, gently.

“I… I don’t know,” I respond. Tears are floating along the rim of my bottom eyelids now. “I hate being a shrinker,” I say angrily. “I mean, it’s terrible… I hate it so much…” I finish, with a whimper.

My mom’s name is Kristie Stone. She’s in her mid-thirties: about 150 pounds, a curly haired brunette. She has also been my math teacher for the last two years, as she moved up with my grade. But honestly, I’m no longer sure if I can call it "my grade" at all. My mom being a teacher at the school is the only reason I’m even allowed to be here… I’m not technically even enrolled, as I’m a shrinker. But Mom doesn’t want to leave me at home alone all day, so I usually end up going with her and pretending to still be a student.

But it's no secret to the other students that I'm their inferior, in every way, and that I shouldn't even really be there.

I've often thought of how I would describe what it's like to be a shrinker to a normal. If you’ve ever hit the ground and had the breath knocked out of you, I guess that’s a small, small taste of it. Of being stood on, or walked on, by another, humongous person. That horrible feeling you get right after impact, when you first try to gasp for air and it doesn’t work... for a moment, you feel like you are about to die. Imagine that feeling repeating, again and again, for hours on end. Smashed underneath a giant person’s crushing weight, lost to the world underneath the flesh of a giant foot. After six years… I’m still not used to it.

“I’ve heard of in-shoe discipline and shrinkers, but I’ve never actually dealt with it before. Give me just a second, Alisa,” Ms. Pattie says. I find myself watching as Ms. Pattie goes around to her desk. I watch her make several quick searches before making some phone calls. I soon realize Ms. Pattie isn’t from around here. From her phone conversations I see that despite having heard of it, she’s not really that knowledgeable of in-shoe discipline, and to my surprise, only has a vague notion of the place of shrinkers in general in this community. That’s understandable, I guess, if she moved here from the east, since even around here shrinkers are rarely actually discussed outside of church meetings and are typically kept out of the school system. She really has no reason to have encountered one before.

I watch her become frustrated. She is always redirected, whether by phone or email, to the same legal statement:

Many common rights of individual citizens are deemed null for reducibles upon the discovery of this condition. If discovered, this condition should be reported to the local government for immediate processing.

“This just seems so... ridiculous,” Ms. Pattie frowns, as what I already knew is confirmed for her, again, and again: If she wanted to, my own mom is legally within her rights to keep me buried underneath the sweaty, gross flesh of her massive feet indefinitely if she deems it appropriate discipline. It’s protected as her religious freedom. She is legally my “owner”, and as such she can do this to me. She cannot be legally questioned if I am harmed or even die while being disciplined. And to Ms. Pattie’s surprise many of the responses she receives harshly question her decision to discuss the matter in the first place.

I can see her defeat as she encounters what is, to her at least, a startling amount of resistance concerning finding more information for me. She settles for setting me up a biweekly therapy appointment, and says she wants to help me cope with my situation. I ask her not to tell my mother, and she agrees. Today I managed to sneak into Ms. Pattie’s office early… since right now, Mom is eating breakfast with the other teachers down in the lounge, not keeping tabs on me.

Ms. Pattie is young, maybe in her late twenties. She’s older than me, and noticeably concerned for me. I’ve rarely gotten that from many people. I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have her for a mother instead of my own pitiless mom. That’s when the thought slips into my head.

What would be like to be under Ms. Pattie’s foot instead of Mom’s? Just… I mean, I know Ms. Pattie wouldn’t even want that… But I don’t think I would mind so much if she was the one who walked on me all day…

…I can imagine her slipping off her black, stacked-heel loafer, with a grin on her face...

‘Mind if I wear you in my shoe today Alisa?’ Ms. Pattie would smile. So kind and beautiful, her long red hair flowing past her shoulders… if she was the one who was going to to smash me under her foot for hours on end, I…

I think… I’m…

...

God...

...

I’m a freak.

...That's what I am.

Was I really just day-dreaming about being trapped underneath this nice, perfect lady, the first person who has shown some concern for me in forever, in her shoe: The very thing I told her was ruining my life!? What would she have said if she knew what a freak I am...? Why did I even bother Ms. Pattie in the first place?

This was pointless. Maybe... I simply won't come back.

“Did you bring Alisa today, Mrs. Stone?” I hear Chrissie, the popular girl with short blonde hair and green highlights, mock from her desk in the front row. I can’t see her, but I know the layout of the classroom, and I recognize that terrible girl’s voice. Class was supposed to start a few minutes ago, but everyone knows that’s not a big deal to my Mom. She’s not going to be dictated by the daily schedule, or by when class was supposed to start.

“She’s grounded, so…” TAP! TAP! She taps her foot against the floor, crushing my tiny body. I’m lost under her footfalls as she walks up to the front of the board. I, Alisa Stone, am the tiniest little lump underneath the padded arch of my gargantuan mother’s right foot. Her insole. “I’ve gained a few pounds over the break, so I'm sure she's wishing she hadn't crossed me,” she adds. Everyone laughs. I whimper helplessly as my mother’s weight presses down on me, all but crushing me into oblivion.

“I can probably get my dad to give you a free year at his gym,” I hear Mark shout, “if you wear Alisa when you go, of course!”

“That’s quite a deal, you hear that Alisa?” I hear Mom tease, as she taps her foot against the floor again, plunging me into her sweaty foot flesh for the thousandth time today. "We'll see," she adds.

I begin protesting my mother’s crushing weight as best I can.  

“Enough of that, everyone get out your homework and turn to page 258. We’ve got a lot to cover today so we’d better get started. Any questions before we start going over this?” I hear her say, finally entering teacher mode.

I’m lost now, motionless. I submit to being forgotten, just a constant, tiny lump under my gigantic, beautiful mother’s foot. Smelling that all too-familiar sneaker smell that invades my mind. My giant mother is in complete control, and I won’t leave her shoe until she says so.

I’m her insole.

She starts shifting her weight back and forth. God, I’m going to die down here.

“No questions? Okay, let’s start with number 7,” she booms happily from above.

*          *          *

"Seriously though, they need to realize they don’t get a say in this," Mom's voice says from high above. It's muffled, but very much still audible. Her massive weight shifts, to and fro, and I groan in agony feeling my tiny bones creaking under the strain. God. It's got to evening by now, and I’m still down here… suffering underneath the crushing weight of the beautiful woman who long ago brought me into this world.

"I know, right?" she adds in quick, righteous agreement with whatever my dad just said over the phone. "You remember, I wore Sarah in my shoes until I was twenty-seven," Mom adds. Sarah… Sarah was mom’s younger sister… my aunt. I never knew her, no more than fleeting memories of a tiny bug Mom used to flick around between her toes. Then she laughs loudly. "Exactly! They just need to butt out of our lives,” she concludes.

I know there are people out there who disagree with my parents, but they have no power to help me. I’m about half-an-inch tall right now. Mom's entire being is flattening me into the rubbery insole of her new white sneakers. It’s a sweat oven, being trapped in here, under her giant foot. When I can get air, that’s all I can smell. Mom’s massive, sweaty foot and that rubbery “new shoe” smell.

How can I fight it...? She’s so immense.

“Yeah, I know,” her voice booms again. My mom is the ultimate defender of traditional in-shoe discipline. I’ve spent quite a bit of the last six years underfoot. The tradition has been passed down for generations in this part of the country. She uses our religion as a handy excuse, but as time goes on, I'm becoming more and more convinced my mother is just a complete sadist when it comes to me. Her weight shifts again, somehow putting even more pressure on my tiny body. I’m lost, hopelessly, helplessly, lost, underneath her crushing, sweaty flesh. Mom’s feet mold around me, my tiny, miserable form splayed out painfully, my bones creaking.

“When will you be home?” Mom continues, finally lifting some of her tonnage off of me. Her feet are practiced tormentors with perfect technique. My feeble struggles can’t begin to put a stop to them. Mom told me about her former siblings when we first found out I was a shrinker. She owned her two younger sisters and one younger brother for years, and got lots of practice pounding her siblings into the insole of her sneakers. Her younger brother Chris barely lasted a month after being tossed in his big sister Kristie’s shoes, brutally crushed and smothered endlessly underneath her clumsy unpracticed feet. Lucky enough to be the second shrinker my mom owned, her younger sister Amy lasted three long years as an insole, on and off, largely due to Mom’s improved technique. However, that didn’t stop Mom from carelessly ending Amy’s life one hot summer day, when she got the idea to go for a long jog with Amy underfoot. And Sarah… she survived for years as Mom’s insole. YEARS. Mom had time to fine-tune and perfect her technique, and Sarah lived for a long time, endlessly stuck under her godlike, sadistic big sister’s foot.

Mom was delighted to describe to me how Sarah's life ended. She didn’t finish Sarah off with her feet... she dropped a tiny Sarah onto my birthday cake when I was younger, and watched as, I, myself, unknowingly ATE her. That was well before Mom and Dad knew I was a shrinker.

Now, I’m the one stuck to the bottom of Mom’s sweaty sole, in her shoe, as it lifts it just a bit off of the insole. It’s her right. I’m in complete darkness, separated from the giant world by her thick sneaker.

As her foot lifts, I inhale sharply, deeply, as my lungs are finally allowed to decompress. It is SUCH a relief, just to be able to BREATHE, even knowing that the overwhelming smell of Mom’s foot is about to flood my senses. And it does. Immediately. Rubbery new sneaker. Sweaty feet. … the essence of humiliation.

“Okay, I’ll see you later. 'Kay. Bye,” Mom’s voice finishes. And suddenly she’s walking. Walking… is so common a thing. But when you're the size of a tiny bug, and you’ve been shoved underneath someone’s foot and are forced… to endure the sudden jolts and crushing consequences...

God, it’s terrifying…

…

“No… god… please… … no…” I whimper. She's walking too fast. I’m unable to keep up, physically. I can’t… get enough air... It’s all too brutal, too fast, too real. I don’t have time… to stop and collect my thoughts from one crushing stride to the next. I barely have time to catch… my breath. 

…

“…please let me out… mom…” I say between crushing strides, knowing it won’t stop my gigantic mom from flattening me. Even if should could hear them, I think my cries would mean nothing to her. 

 “...no… no… no…” I mutter. I have such a scared, timid voice. But at this size... so tiny... it could never escape... this massive... shoe...

...

I awaken in a haze.

Where am I? Oh… of course. I’m still stuck to the bottom of Mom’s foot.  She's gotten to where she was walking to and her tonnage is off of me, so she must be sitting somewhere. But as much as I doubted I would be for a moment, I’m still very much alive. I inhale sharply, deeply, thankful for the sudden peace, not caring that I’m smelling nothing but Mom’s feet. Not caring that it’s exactly what I know she wants. It’s reached that point. The smell of Mom’s foot is invading my mind, wrapping around my very thoughts. I hear Kristie Stone, my mom, giggling. I remember her pounding me into this state before, just to watch me helplessly sniff her feet as she giggled like a little girl down at me from on high. 

Am I hallucinating?

I hear her snickering in the distance, echoing. No, there's too much echo for it to be real. This has got to all be in my head.

Suddenly I’m being jarred around violently. Mom has started tapping her foot. She continues, uncaring that her tiny daughter is being pummeled by her sweaty sole with every movement. Maybe she doesn’t even realize she’s doing this. This goes on for a while. I’m in Mom’s shoe enough that I can usually predict her movements, and I can hear well enough to have a good idea where she is. Right now she’s sitting at the computer desk. I hear her typing occasionally. Clicking on something. Sometimes sound will blare from the massive speakers on top of the desk, although it is muffled. When she listens to music, at least I get to hear it…

Finally, there is some shifting, and… cool air comes rushing into the shoe. This is the first time I’ve been out of the shoe all day. I went to bed last night and woke up smashed under Mom’s sweaty, doughy foot-flesh.

I don’t even know why I’m down here. Yet I'm hopelessly stuck to the sole of her foot, even as giant sneaker prison drops away from me.

“...Mom,” I mutter.

“You’re… very, very grounded,” she booms. “I’m sick of your laziness. You're lucky I even let you keep that room of yours if you won't even keep it clean.” 

I start sobbing. There’s no way she could hear me at my size, but I’m still afraid of incurring her wrath so I try to stop. “These one or two day sessions aren’t really putting a dent in your laziness, are they?” she ponders, squinting her huge blue eyes down at me. “How would you like to live in my shoe for the rest of the month? How’s THAT sound?” Mom adds with a scowl. She’s seriously in a bad mood. She tilts her foot a bit to the side, simultaneously tilting her head to the side. Of course she’s at the computer desk… I’m looking up at her from underneath. I can’t answer, and she’d never hear if I tried. She wiggles her massive toes around, watching my tiny naked form move along with her moist, doughy flesh. Squinting a bit. Smirking. “How do my feet smell?” she grins. She looks perfectly content now: a beautiful giant woman having some playful fun at my tiny expense.

But she’s my mom. It’s legally her right.

“Well…” Mom grins. “Since we’re having such fun with all of this… mother-daughter bonding…” she trails off, as she repositions her foot over her vacant shoe. “You're staying that size for a month,” she declares.

No. Please God, no. I can’t do a whole month.

I’m being plunged back into Mom’s shoe. Darkness, and weight.  Then more weight. I feel her press me down into the insole. Hard. Harder. The pressure is increasing so rapidly… when I realize she is already standing up, a pathetic whimper escapes from me, as tears start streaming down my tiny cheeks.

Harder. Harder! HARDER!

…I scream.

...

Mom rests her foot on me, with most of her weight, shifting it around for a moment. “Alisa, remember, most shrinkers simply stay shrunk. It’s such a hassle, changing your size and all… but I still do it, out of love for the successful daughter you might have been. I'm just too soft...” I hear her musing above.

Then she starts walking, her foot flesh molding around me, then crushing me, then lifting and doing it again, and again. Step, after step… after step….

*          *          *

“WAKE UP.”

Opening my eyes, my vision is filled with my mother’s impossibly huge face, but everything is blurry and I can’t keep my focus…. life is like a record, skipping. Everything is… fuzzy…. I can’t focus on anything, except for the fact that I’m still tiny, and I’m still plastered to a sweaty bare sole. “…ALISA,” her stern voice breaks through. “…WAKE UP!” And for a moment I do wake up, but that doesn’t last long before my mind is drifting…

…away….

…

…

…To darkness…

…

…Is this the end?

…

…Has she done it this time?

…Did she crush me…?

…

…I can’t pull myself back…

…Is this what it’s like… to die?

…

… wake up…

…

“…WAKE UP GIRL.” I suddenly hear my dad’s deep voice bellow from a distance. I’m jolted awake. Looking past my mother’s awesomely huge face, I see my dad, standing against the wall. “STAY WITH US,” he booms, his voice deeply reverberating.

I’m now awake, and I seem to be alive, as I usually am even after a long crushing day of being an insole.  Mom knows how to push me to the limit.

Dad’s voice was… so startling. I’m scared of him.

“There,” Mom continues. I zone in on her massive blue eyes, finally able to take in the situation. She’s sitting on the kitchen chair, with her confining sneaker pulled off, and has her arm around her leg, pulling her foot around where she can easily see me. Again, her face fills my vision. She squints down at me, wiggling her massive sweaty toes around above me. “Anna called, she’s coming over to pick you up. You never tell me when you two make plans,” she says bluntly. “I guess we’ll have to postpone your grounding,” she finishes.

Anna. Anna and I used to be best friends. She’s about a year older than me. Mom and Dad love her. Before I found out I was a shrinker we played together and visited her a lot, as she lives just down the road. She was always bossy, and I remember Mom chastising me for “always letting Anna have her way.” But I didn’t care that much, since we were such good friends. It's just the way we were.

Since I found out I was shrinker, though... Mom has encouraged Anna to "assist" with my discipline.  Things are so different now.  I’ve spent many, many hours helplessly being slid around between my (former) best friend Anna's sweaty toes, longing for days long passed.

Now Anna calls me... toe-jam. 

Still... she sometimes takes an interest in me beyond that. She did remember my birthday last year, bringing me a cupcake. She’s taken me riding horses a couple of times, even since she found out I was a shrinker… not in her shoe either, actually riding, like we used to. A few years back, she even gave me a beautiful green anklet that I keep in my cabinet… Although, she only gave it to me after I complimented her on it after a long day of being smashed under her foot.

But back to the moment at hand. I look up, still seeing my curly haired, goddess of a mother peering down at me. I’m stuck to her sweaty sole. I’ve been lost in thought for only a few seconds… perhaps I’m still not all the way awake, my mind is certainly wandering. My right eye doesn’t really want to stay open. For some reason does that after being smashed for a few hours, but I guess that’s to be expected. “Remember, you’re still grounded, so we’re only unshrinking you for Anna. She might shrink you right back,” Mom finishes, twisting the violet jewel dangling from her neck by a chain.

The jewel on her necklace. That’s what my mom uses to shrink me, and to unshrink me. Glossy, shaped like a diamond, but split horizontally down the middle. With a quick twist, it determines my size. It was made for me, and was tuned specifically for my shrinking frequency. And that’s the difference between a “shrinker” and a normal person. Normal people have no shrinking frequency.

I, and all other shrinkers, do.

Mom chose a beautiful violet emerald to be my jewel. It’s not my birthstone or anything, just her favorite color.

…

I suddenly awaken. 

…

I’m in my bed, sore, hardly able to move.

It feels weird to be normal-sized, in my own bed again.

The shrinking and unshrinking process always knocks me out cold, and I awaken later. I’ve never actually seen how quickly it happens. I’ve been put in my purple pajamas, ones my mother picked out for me.  I remember wanting green ones, but Mom wouldn’t let me have them. I sit up, slowly, eyeing myself in the mirror on the dresser. My hair is long and straight. Beautiful like my mom’s. My eyes, however, are green. My favorite color. My eyes… well. I look tired. My right eye isn’t open as much as my left. Noticeably so.

But even with that, I can’t deny that I’ve got my beautiful mother’s looks. Just younger. My father must’ve supplied my straight hair though, as I didn’t get Mom’s curls.

Swinging my feet off of the edge of the bed, I stand up. It hurts, but I do it anyway… it’s not every day that I’m allowed to walk around as a normal girl does. But I can’t forget that Anna’s coming over. A real normal girl. I just hope that she has something fun in mind for both of us, and not just for herself. I open the door to my room and am greeted by the grinning face of my little sister.  “Look, it’s my foot-sniffer!” she laughs.  My kid sister Wendy has dark, jet black hair, and bright blue eyes. She’s a normal unlike me, making her the favorite child... and she's eight years younger than me. I love my little sister, but I’ve figured out my Mom’s plan… if I survive long enough for her to grow into it… Wendy will become my future owner.  I’ve been in Wendy’s socks and shoes quite a bit, most of the time because I lost to her at one of her silly games. 

But at least she gives me a sporting chance and makes a game out of it, which, considering what my life is like is at times actually kind of fun.

“Hi Wendy,” I say, to my surprise smiling without even forcing it.

 “Your eye’s doing that weird thing again,” she remarks.  I keep smiling, bending down to her touch it, like she always wants to.  Why am I so glad to see her?  Am I becoming so desperate that the only joy left in life is bantering with my own little sister, who thinks it’s “funny” that I can’t stop her from putting me in her shoes when I lose to her at something? She pulls my eyelid open the way it should be, but it just falls back down, halfway closed again.  “That is so weird!” she adds, giggling.  God, I’m so sore.  I’m bruised and battered all over.  And here I am, smiling at my kid sister who is laughing about it.  It’s so stupid, and I’m so tired it’s almost becoming funny. I make my way around her and head down the stairs, hoping to get an hour or so of actual life. But I already hear Anna’s voice from downstairs. It’s not high-pitched, not low-pitched, just distinctly Anna, the girl from down the road. I stop for a moment in hesitation, reluctant to face her, but bite the bullet and continue down the stairs. As she comes into view I see that she’s standing just inside the front door with a backpack dangling from her elbow.

“Yeah, I was hoping to get in a few hours before the sun goes down,” Anna continues her conversation with my mom. She’s dressed to ride horses. I continue walking from the stairs, approaching the two cautiously, forming a loose triangle with them. They glance at me, but they keep talking to each other.

“Is she spending the night over there, or do you want to stay here tonight?” Mom asks. This will be Anna’s choice, not mine. My gut churns in nervousness as Mom takes the necklace off of her neck and hands it over to Anna, basically handing off my ownership to my older blonde friend.

“My house,” Anna replies, finally looking me directly in the eyes to address me. Her eyes are so big, so blue. Oddly large in fact, large enough that her brothers, all normals of course, call her owl-eyes. I wouldn’t dare.

“…hey Anna,” I say, nervously. I’m scared as hell of this girl, several inches shorter than me. But she is company other than the bottom of my mom’s foot. She eyes me, looking me up and down. Analyzing me.

“You’ve gotta stop letting your mom just walk all over you, Alisa,” She grins. She bites her lip, giving Mom and quick glance. Of course Mom just laughs.

“…are we riding?” I say cautiously, just wanting to know, to remove all the nervousness. I can’t ride, myself: Without Anna, I’m terrified of horses. But sometimes Anna will let me ride with her on her horse, and I hope that’s what she’s planning today. I’m nervous as she grins at me, practically reading my mind. She knows exactly what I’m thinking: Am I going with her at this size, or does she plan to simply stuff me in her boot so she can flick me around her sweaty toes while she rides?

“Well I had planned on us going out riding together. You know, both of us normal-sized and all.  But you’re not exactly dressed for it,” Anna squints, and I see that unmistakable, sadistic smirk forming. I look down, stupidly, realizing I’m still in my purple pajamas. Why didn’t I change clothes before I came down?  But it’s too late… already I’ve given her an excuse. She stares at me with a huge smug grin on her face, and very deliberately uses her left boot to help her pull off her right boot, removing her foot from it. I can’t help but stare for a moment down into the tunnel, which gets darker near the bottom. Her footprint is imprinted in the darkening insole as it stretches down out of sight.

“Sorry Anna, I-I’ll go change,” I stammer, turning to go back up the stairs.

“No!” she says,  like she was talking to a disobedient pet.   I immediately feel a strange, but familiar sensation all over my body. Turning back, I see Anna holding the purple jewel up.  It’s starting to glow, the sign that it’s been activated. “You know I’ve gotta get Princess’ exercise in before it gets dark,” Anna says in a mock whiney voice, intentionally sounding like a bratty, impatient little kid.

“It’ll only take a second…” I say, feeling panic rushing over me. 

“Noooooo!” she continues, still with her mock whiney voice.  “I wanna go nooow!” she adds, stomping her bare foot on the ground in mock impatience.  But her eyes are fixed on me, wide and confident.

“Anna, I’m sorry, I just can't do anything with her lately,” Mom says.  “Maybe you'll have better luck. She's been grounded, so don't feel like you have to go easy on her.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Anna adds, cocking her head to the side and making the smuggest grin she can muster, as she lifts the jewel and gives it a full twist.

Heat.  Pressure.  I gasp for air, but there’s little to be found.  Fleshy walls compress around me, moving of their own will, sliding around, sliding around.   Flick!  Flick!  Flick! The breath is knocked out of me repeatedly, as I hear stifled, muffled laughter from far away.  Anna.

“…Worship me you worm…” I hear her mocking, very muffled, but audible nonetheless. “…LEEK my toes worm! Hurry up! If ya’ don’t, I’ll EETCHA!” she continues. 

Come on Anna... I’m so exhausted.  Why can’t you just flick me around between your toes and let me suffer down here in peace? 

“LEEEEEEK! WORM!” she booms, as I quiver at the sound of her voice.  Soon, the boot is unzipping, and I feel cool air rushing into the boot to meet me.  My eyes slowly adjust to the brighter light… the sun is setting behind the custody tower in the distance, and Anna is balanced on horseback, holding her sweaty foot up by the ankle to see me. Her face is a crazed, sadistic grin, and her eyes are intense, huge, truly like an owl.   “Wanna slide down my throat? DO YAAAA...?” she booms as she pulls her foot closer to her face, her gigantic mouth coming closer, nearly filling my vision. 

I immediately summon what little strength I have and press my tongue to the wall of flesh nearest my face. 

Salt, and grime, and sweat, by the mouthful.  But I do it again, as her massive eyes are intensely bearing down on me.

“That’s more like it,” she grins, as I’m suddenly plummeting downward, and the boot pulled back on around me.  Soon it is zipped back up, and I don’t dare stop licking, as much as it burns my mouth, my tongue, and every muscle in my tiny neck.  “I’m proud of you, you’re learning!” she laughs.  “You’re my toe-jam, so you’ve GOTTA DO EVERY LITTLE FUCKING THING I SAY!”  She continually flicks me around, sliding me, grinding me, suffocating and pressing me between her sweaty-slick lower digits.  I try my best to lick her toes the entire time, but occasionally she yells at me from above, threatening to eat me every so often.

When she finally gets off the horse, I find myself crushed, hard, under the mass of her body.  Her boots don’t have much give, not nearly as much as Mom’s sneakers, and Anna’s feet are not nearly as soft.  “How’s it fucking feel, worm?” she mocks, as her massive footfalls crush me.  She’s walking out of the horse pasture and to her house, at least I figure.  “You’re nothing but a lump under my foot, Alisa,” she continues.  “We used to be BEST FRIENDS, remember?” she continues.  She’s really rubbing salt in the wound now, as I feel tears start to stream down my cheeks.

“Help me…” I cry, but there is no helping me.  Anna gets to torture me.  She's my owner now, it's her right.  BOOM!  Her foot comes down, again, and again. BOOM! Carelessly.  Cruelly.  BOOM!  No more… I cry… as I slowly black out….

____________________________________

It’s eleven in the morning.

“Think fast,” Anna says as she tosses me another pack of candy from her Halloween stash.

I sit cross-legged in her room with the game paused, simply observing my surroundings: Horseback riding trophies; pictures of family and friends; they are all around.  I’m not personally in any of the pictures… she’d have a hard time explaining a picture of me… a shrinker… to her friends.  And by friends, I mean her “normal” friends from school… the friends I see now, in her pictures, laughing with their arms around her. I’ve been welcomed into her room before, but rarely at normal size, and it feels strange for everything to not be miles away, out of reach.  I feel honored to actually be sitting in her floor with candy in my mouth and a game controller in my hands.  Smiling.  Laughing.  Having fun.  Usually I  only see this room while I’m smashed under the smelly sole of her foot, if she and her real friends have a slumber party, or decide to play video games together.

I glance over at Anna as she takes a seat on the floor next to me, her long flowing blonde hair falling gracefully as she sits.  Mom’s violet jewel still dangles threateningly around her neck, but to my surprise she hadn’t decided to use it on me today… yet, anyway.  Of course, she works it in the conversation, often threatening me with “toe-jam duty” with a devious grin on her pretty face.  But toe-jam duty was yesterday.  Today I seem to be her friend.  She picks up her controller and we resume playing, shoving candy in our mouths whenever we get a spare hand.

And I can’t believe I’m genuinely having fun.  It’s the morning, and I’m dressed in green pajamas.  Anna bought them for me after I complained about Mom not letting me get them.  She thought that much of me, so I try to fight the memories of Anna’s gigantic crushing feet from yesterday.  And just look at me.  I’m having fun.  Laughing.  Eating candy and playing games.

“Hey, sorry about yesterday,” Anna looks at me with a strange squint, like she's forcing herself to do something unnatural.  “Your mom told me not to go easy on you, and I guess I just got carried away.”

“It’s… it’s… okay,” I say, cautiously.  I’m not really okay with it, to be honest, but an apology isn’t something I usually hear.  I’m actually quite surprised.  We continue playing the game, and I find myself doing quite well.  I’ve seen her playing this game quite a bit, although it was from between the cracks between her toes in the past.  I’m managing to pick up on some of the more advanced moves, besides just jumping and dodging.  We’ve been playing for over an hour now, and I’m having so much fun, laughing and just being normal with Anna, I just never want it to end.

 “Oh come ON!” Anna suddenly booms, causing me to wince.  I had just knocked her off the side of the screen, making her lose a life.

 “That’s a fucking cheap-shot!” she yells in frustration, looking at me out of the corner of her eye as she angrily shoves a peanut-butter cup in her mouth, waiting for her character to respawn on the screen.  It was a perfectly fair move, she’s done it to me twenty times. I feel my cheeks flush, irritated by her childish behavior. I was honestly thinking she might brag on me for picking up on her game so fast.  I hardly ever get to play video games.  I know Anna is no slouch at this game, and judging by how much she plays it, it must be her favorite. Me? I hardly ever get a chance to play it. Again, I’ve only caught onto the rules by catching glimpses from underneath her smelly foot as she kneaded me into the carpet while she and her friends played it.

So as I see her fuming in frustration, I try to figure out where exactly it’s coming from.  I soon see another opportunity, and knock her off the side of the screen again using the same “unfair” tactic she complained about before.  This leaves her with only one life, and me two.  And the game pauses.  I turn, looking her in her large blue eyes.  She’s not okay with this. And that surprises me because I’ve never seen her be a poor loser.  I’ve seen her play with her brothers, and her friends, and she usually handles losing just fine.  And then I realize it.  It’s not losing that’s bothering her, it’s losing to me.  That should never happen.

“What the hell Alisa?” she says. 

“…I’m trying to win,” I say, focusing hard on the screen, not her, trying to keep her from throwing me off.  I know I haven’t done anything wrong.  She wouldn’t get mad like this at one of her normal friends. But we’re not normal friends, not anymore.  I'm not sure you could call us friends at all.  I’m a shrinker, and she’s my owner.

She reappears on the screen and gets some good hits in before I can react. Before I can reorient my character, her character puts mine in a grapple and throws me straight down, over the edge of the battlefield. I fly off the bottom of the stage.

“That’s more like it,” she says.  I see a sudden spark in her eyes, and that smug grin from yesterday starts to return.  “Alisa, how about this,” she says looking at the screen intensely.  “If you can beat me, I promise not to shrink you for the whole week.  I’ll tell your mom that you’re staying over with me.  We'll keep playing games, eating candy, horseback riding, the works,” she grins.  “But if I beat you, you’re going back in my fucking boot... and I get to stomp you under my sweaty feet the whole fucking time,” she adds, reeking of smugness, 

My lips tighten as I feel my pace quicken.  I know I really don’t have the skills to beat her.  I feel my eyes piercing the screen in semi-panic.  What have I done? I remember myself crying yesterday for her to stop, as she continued walking on me, uncaring, superior, laughing down at me from high above in her world of normals. It's nothing for her to reduce me to that again.

No! No! No!  Suddenly everything... EVERYTHING depends on me winning again. So as my character returns to the screen, I quickly turn my fighter to run the other way to try to get some distance.  But it doesn’t work. Her fighter dashes and catches mine in another grapple, then sends my player flying up in the air, and starts kicking me up in the air again and again... without letting me touch the ground, never giving me a chance to regain control of my character.  I see her squint at me. She's not even looking at the screen anymore, as she continues knocking my character helplessly into the air.  

My character is finally sent flying off the screen.

“PLAYER ONE WINS!” flashes across the screen, My hands grip the controller tightly.  My lips are tense. She squints, playing with the violet jewel dangling around her neck.  “Poor... poor... TOE-jam,” she laughs. With that, she twirls around, rolling a bit onto her back and plastering the side of my face with her sweaty left bare foot. "Shouldn't have challenged me, now you're my bitch all week,” she smirks.  

A strange thrill shoots through my midsection. What?

Yes. I'll do whatever she wants. I turn my face into her sole, allowing her to do as she pleases, to flatten her superior foot right onto my nose.  I close my eyes, allowing the scent of her sweaty foot in... and find myself already imagining... Anna’s massive body...

...on top of me...

...flattening me...

...into the insole of her cruel, oppressive black boots...

Wait... what the hell?  Why would I fantasize about this? To be lost... forgotten, reduced to nothing under Anna's foot?  I watch Anna's sweaty toes flick around before my eyes. I can see her face from between them, smirking triumphantly, as she takes the jewel from around her neck and gives it a good twist.

Opening my eyes, I see that my surroundings have changed drastically. 

Now I’m lying on my back, naked, and I can see dim light shining into my giant prison… Yes, of course: I’m back... half-an-inch tall, trapped inside Anna’s boot. I try to sit up on the hard, leathery surface of Anna’s insole, examining in awe the indentation and dirty outline of my gigantic ex-best friend’s foot.

I've screwed everything up. Now I will be smashed underneath her. There's no avoiding it. This is going to happen. I'm a worm again. I will be sharing this space with the bottom of her giant, sweaty, muscular foot as she goes about her day. Painfully splayed out underneath the weight of Anna’s crushing body.

I hear thuds in the distance, but they are far enough away I believe them to be in another room of the house.  But where exactly am I?  I crawl forward enough to look up out of the mouth of the boot, and can clearly see the ceiling fan of her room and the edge of her bed.  Yes. This is the normal spot for her to keep her boots.  Beside her giant bed.

“So you wanna meet me at the mall?” Anna’s voice rings, muffled, in the distance.  She’s clearly in the next room over.   She’s pacing, from the feel of the vibrations of her footfalls around me, and she is talking on the phone.  “Oh, come on!  I haven’t even seen you since you changed schools!”  she adds a few seconds later.

“Fine, tomorrow instead?” she says.  “Yeah,” she adds, as I hear her coming closer. 

My heart races.  She’s coming in my direction.  This concerns me. 

She’s going to be looking down…

And there she is.  Looking down at me.

Now I see her massive head in my vision, high above in her giant world, with her phone held to her ear.  “That sounds good.  I’ll see you tomorrow at ten?” she finishes.  Noticing me looking up at her from down in her boot, her lips curl to a tight smile.  “Okay, bye,” she finishes, and I hear see her touch her finger to her phone, and it vanishes out of sight, presumably into her pocket.

“You remember my best friend, Sasha?” she grins.  “Hmm... I remember having a different  best friend a long time ago.  But now she's just... well, beneath me,” she adds, with a cruel glare down at me.

Her massive foot suddenly appears at the top of the opening, pressing down and creasing the giant walls that I could never hope to climb.  I know what she’s doing… demonstrating what I’m in for.  Her massive toes wiggle and flick around, eclipsing most of my view out of the boot, and blocking a great deal of the light.  So sweaty.  So huge.

I feel a shiver wash over me as I’m dwarfed by the wrinkles and folds of her flesh.  She smirks down, basking in her own superiority, looking at me from between her toes. God.  So beautiful. Soon she'll be pounding me underneath herself, laughing at me from above and stomping on me, again, and again, underneath her crushing weight. It will be terrifying.  But just the idea of it. 

I want her to crush me?  Why do I want that?

“Bye toe-jam,” she finishes, as her foot comes down, sealing off all light.

…

…

…

Hours have passed.  I’m pressed, so hard, underneath Anna’s weight.  God.  It hurts so much.  She’s so heavy, and her insole is harder than Mom’s sneakers.  Mom’s shoes seem to have some give.  Anna’s boots are unforgiving.  I’m sure I’ve been in and out of consciousness a few times now, but it’s hard to tell at times.

I suddenly find myself panicking.  Screaming.  Pressing and thrashing against the enormous weight that’s on me.  Anna!  Get off of me!  God, get off of me!

In response, I only hear a snicker high, high above me, as her massive sweaty foot lifts and pounds me down hard.  “Leeeek!” She shouts, giving her foot a few hard stomps on the floor.  BOOM!  BOOM!  BOOM!  

BOOM!  BOOM!  God, please!  It hurts so bad!

I try sticking out my tongue and pressing it as hard as I possibly can against the muscular wall of flesh that that has been tormenting me.  I try lapping, again and again.  Please Anna.  Please!  Please just don’t stomp on me again!

She slowly lifts my her sweaty sole up a bit off of my tiny form.  The tiniest movement to her, but it is an incredible relief for me.  “Not good enough! You do realize how easily I could just stomp you to death? I doubt your mom would even care,” she laughs from high above. She then puts her foot back down and starts adding back more weight and pressure.  The pressure builds, and I find my body scraping the insole painfully, and I find myself transported to an Alisa-sized indentation in her hard, stiff leather insole.

I give up. I’m half-an-inch tall.  Fighting her sweaty, basketball court-sized sole isn’t really in the realm of possibility. 

"I could do it right now," she adds.

She suddenly lifts her boot, then pounds her foot down. HARD. Forcing me into the indentation.  CRACK!  My right arm breaks.  In shock, I find that I am pounded again, and again, and again… BOOM!  BOOM!  BOOM!  My tiny pathetic screams are lost in the brutal crushing stomps. POP!  CRACK!  Two ribs break. 

I’m screaming.  I’m crying.  NO ANNA!

She stops for a moment, just resting her weight on me… now broken, but nicely SMASHED into the tiny indentation she discovered. 

I'm sobbing.  Pain sears down my body, like fire. I’m so perfectly molded, broken, crushed, down into my new home.  The indentation.  Her sweaty, muscular sole rests on me perfectly. I am her insole.

Soon Anna is walking.  I’m in horrible pain with every step, and I can’t budge as her massive sole comes down again, and again.

“What?” I hear her mutter.  I recognize the tone in her voice.  This is how she speaks to her mother.

“Is… Alisa already back in your shoe…?” I hear Anna’s mom ask with a dismayed sound in her voice. For a moment, I have a ray of hope.  For whatever reason, Anna’s mom has a soft spot for me, and I can tell it hurts her to know I’m being so callously played with her under her tomboyish daughter’s feet. 

Maybe, just maybe… She can talk some sense into Anna before she kills me…

“Yep,” Anna replies, condemning me to my horrible fate.  No. I will die tiny worm buried under her sweaty foot as she confidently stands atop me, balancing her weight: The weight of her toned legs, in blue-jeans; the weight of her fit, upper torso; the weight of her head with her blonde hair flowing down over her shoulders. 

God, I'm nothing...

“Don’t you think she’s sick of that by now?” her mom continues with a pained sound in her voice.  Please.  Please help me. I feel Anna’s feet start to move as she tries to slip around her.

“Mom, just let it go, she’s a shrinker,” Anna laughs.  She takes her time and I hear her getting her keys, and I hear a door open.  It doesn’t take long for me to realize that Anna is now outside.  The house was air-conditioned, but now the heat has sky-rocketed.  

“Hey!” I hear her say, as she tromps through the yard. "Yeah, you wanna meet me at the mall?" she adds.  Clearly on her phone again with one of her friends. "Come on, you can do that tomorrow can't ya?" she continues.  "Fine.  Tomorrow?" she finishes.  "Okay, I'll see you there, call me sometime tomorrow morning."

Her soles are now slick with sweat, and I’m practically baking down here in her leather boots.  It was hot yesterday, and I’m sure it’s no cooler today. It must be much hotter down here. With all the added perspiration under her foot, I begin to slip out of my indentation. 

I’m now sticking to the bottom of her sole as it rises and falls.

God please. 

Get me out of this. This is horrible. 

This is the most horrible existence I can think of. 

How can this be my life?

…Fresh air finally comes rushing into the boot, and there is a strong suction as Anna’s massive, sweaty foot slides up and out.  

I hear myself sobbing.  It has been hours.  My body shivers as cooler air flows in.  I’m naked and soaked in sweat, lying on Anna’s filthy, leather insole, into which I’m embedded.  There’s the searing pain again.  My right arm is clearly broken.  I can’t even move, and it hurts to even breathe.  A few of my ribs are broken too.

But she hasn't killed me.  Yet.  But I’ve been crushed underneath her oppressive, god-like, muscular feet.  How could this have once been my best friend? No.  Maybe she never was. Maybe it was always a lie. Anna’s leather boots are tough and unforgiving.  Anna’s foot is more calloused than Mom’s, and it sweats SO MUCH.  Anna’s footfalls brutal and careless.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I survey my surroundings. I’m so small and insignificant… the leathery sides of my prison are beyond unreachable. The smell of hot damp leather and the remnants of Anna’s sweat seep deep into my nostrils.  The heat… the crushing weight of Anna’s foot… it’s still reverberating in my foggy mind.  The light creeping into the boot seems hazy.

“Thanks!” I hear from above.  I wince in pain as I tell my muscles to help me sit up, but that’s not ABOUT to happen.  My arm and ribs quickly scream for me to stop trying.  But even from here, I can partially see out the monumentally tall mouth of the boot, enough to make things out.  The giant world high above looks hazy, but I make out a massive steering wheel above me, with Anna Robins painted in white neatly along the rim.  I also see the edges of her blue jean covered knees sitting cross-legged in the driver’s seat. I think I hear the rubber-soled footsteps of someone walking away in the distance.

Then Anna’s god-like head leans over me with a leisurely, smug grin plastered across her face. She grins, as she takes an extra-large bite of the cheeseburger the car-hop just delivered.  Then a giant Styrofoam drink passes into my field of vision she pulls it to her face for a drink. Anna’s foot was so salty, and with all the gunk I swallowed I find that my mouth is bone dry.  But I’m unable to do a thing as I watch her enjoy her giant meal.

I focus on Anna’s huge, grinning face.  I focus on her on her expression… the movement of her cheeks as she chews and sucks liquid up through the straw… God... if she decides I'm nothing to her, with the ridiculous amount power she has over me… what would I... become...?

I find myself imagining her massive, muscular, sweaty foot dancing along the rim of the boot, with her giant grinning face mocking me from above.  

I know it’s strange to get a thrill out of this thought, but what if I decide... I actually...want this…? God… I could just give in to this feeling. I'm already a crushed, smashed, insignificant bug under Anna's godly feet.  What point is there in fighting?  I feel myself sinking to a new low as I allow myself to focus on something I had always averted my mind from in the past:  Anna’s beauty.  Anna’s gigantic eyes are almost hazy they’re so high above me.  She's so cruel. But she’s undeniably beautiful. I watch her giant mouth as she puts it to the straw to take another drink.

What would it be like if she actually swallowed me?  To pass past her lips, to slide down her throat into an endless darkness... Such beautiful lips. Her massive cheeks, they look so warm. What would it be like… to kiss her…?   

No.  No.  No. No more.  Stop this Alisa. 

“An..na... let me... out…” I hear myself say, weakly.  My mouth is bone dry.  “Let me out…” I cough, finding I have to close my eyes and turn my head to the side from the pain.  It hurts to try to scream.  But I CAN’T give in to these thoughts. I simply can’t… let myself… become… this.  “Let… me… out!!” I finally scream, projecting a rather hoarse, tiny version of my voice.

High, high above me, I hear a light chuckle.  “Was that you?” she laughs, her mouth full of burger.

“Anna!” I yell again, closing my eyes in the pain.  It really hurts so bad to scream. I open my eyes to see if she heard me, but from the inquisitive look on her giant, pretty face I can tell she can’t really make out what I’m saying.  I see her lean closer to the boot just to look down at me.  

God, so beautiful. Come closer…

“Say again?” she says with an amused look on her face, as she cups her hand behind her ear. It seems hopeless.  It's a miracle she heard me at all.  The distance my voice would have to travel… just to reach escape the opening of her boot it must be reaching the height of 20-story building, then much farther to reach Anna's giant ears.  But maybe there was a mega-phone effect from the tunnel of Anna’s boot...  Or something.  She clearly heard me.

I’m a tiny shrinker, and my body is broken, smashed, and embedded into her insole. I’m lucky to be alive… The way she's been acting... She's getting off on the power... She's so in the thick of it, I'm not sure she’d even shed a tear if I were crushed to death under her massive pounding footfalls. Do I really expect her to listen to me? 

“Anna, I'm your best friend!!” I scream at the top of my lungs, as tears start streaming down the sides of my cheeks.  Suddenly her face leans out of sight. 

Her sweaty foot eclipses the opening of the boot. 

“Nooo! Nooo!” I scream, tears streaming. But her gigantic glistening sole and massive sweaty digits hurriedly pass over me, and all light fades to nothing. In the darkness, a now invisible ceiling of muscular flesh presses down.   I hear the zipper on the side of the boot zip up.  Heavy pressure flattens me now.  I’m splayed out underneath the flesh of her sweaty foot, under the doughy flesh of her instep.

“God, no, please Anna…” I sob.   I’m lost to the hot, thick flesh and leather that surrounds me.  I’m already baking.  “Anna, please…”  I’m suffocating. Crushed. Baking alive again. 

“Ex best friend,” I hear her say. The pressure abruptly vanishes... and suddenly I am crushed, quite painfully as she stomps me against the floorboard.  God, it hurts, in every way imaginable. "Now WORSHIP," she commands.

She’s colossal.  Powerful.  Heavy. Yes... Anna. 

 …why even… fight it…? I stick out my tiny tongue and worship her godly, sweaty sole, lost underneath her in he darkness. 

…

…

“Aha!” Anna booms, as her face grins down at me from high above.  She’s standing now, balancing her weight on one foot as she holds her other foot, the one with me stuck to the bottom of it, up into her view by the ankle.   “Do you hate me?” she says with a massive grin on her face.  “No you don’t,” she laughs.  “Not even after being stuck to the bottom of my foot for a whole fucking week,” she adds.

With that, she plucks me free from her sweaty sole with her fingers.  We’re in her room, and she’s got the door shut to keep her mom out.  It seems like another life ago that we were playing video games in the floor, and I was normal-sized. A week ago.

I’m suddenly face to giant face with Anna.  I scream in pain as her thumb and forefinger pinch me and pull me close to her mouth.  “You probably still want to be friends, don’t you?” she says, her enormous mug filling my vision.  “You still want that despite everything,” she grins.  “Say it.”

“…I …want to be your friend,” I meekly whimper.

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” she booms, her massive mouth opening and filling my vision.  It nearly busts my tiny eardrums, and I’m left in shock from the sheer volume of her voice.

“..I want to be your friend!” I cry, closing my eyes, tears streaming.  I’m completely sincere. Sobbing. She can play me like a piano. She always could.

“Thought so,” she replies, playing with the violet jewel around her neck with her free hand.  “Well, I guess we could try that again,” she smiles, her huge grinning lips filling my vision.  She continues grinning, lowering me away from her mouth a bit.  “But one wrong move, and you’re demoted,” she chuckles, her enormous face taking a pert grin. “…back to toe-jam!” she finishes, as she looks away from me.  I see her give the jewel a quick twist.

…

…

The next thing I’m aware of, I’m lying underneath cover.  All the sweat and grime covering my body doesn’t unshrink along with me… conveniently, changing sizes is more effective than getting a bath.  I can feel that I’m wearing pajamas.  But my arm and ribs are still screaming in pain, no different than they have been for the entire week underneath Anna’s giant foot.  I try to maintain my focus.  If I focus hard enough, I can seems to partly ease the pain away.  

It’s dark.  It must be night. I hear someone breathing next to me. 

…God. Anna.  Anna is breathing next to me.  I must be in her bed, at normal-size.  How long have I been asleep next to her? I start to cry, but I try to be quiet. Trying not to wake Anna up.  I’m shaking, so terrified of her.  But I’m too exhausted and broken to move.  I close my eyes, and just try to focus. Try to make the pain ease away in my mind.

I don’t remember falling back asleep.

…

…

…

“Well, how was your week?” Mom says, not looking at me, just keeping her eyes fixed on the road.  Her violet jewel is now dangling from its rightful place around her neck.  She picked me up from Anna’s house only just a few minutes ago.  I’m still in a daze.  I’m not sure whether I’m coming or going, but do I know I feel sick.  And the pain is getting to me. 

…

...Anna.

...Anna’s face, Anna’s voice, Anna’s crushing footfalls...  

...I can’t pull my mind away from her.

…

A sharp pain shoots though my arm, and then my ribs.  I suddenly feel like I’m going to pass out. “I think I need to go… to the hospital…” I reply.  I’m in a haze. My mind is still lost under Anna’s giant feet down in her domineering black boots. My right arm won’t even respond, and my ribs are on fire.

“You know they won’t admit you,” she replies. I just sit silently for a moment.  I can hardly remember the events of the last few hours.  Mom came and picked me up… I had a lot of trouble getting to the car…  I remember falling twice. Anna smirking at me from the front door was the last thing I saw as we drove away.

“But... please…” I beg.  I’m almost lurching in pain at this point. I need to see a doctor.

“What exactly do you want me to do about it?” she replies, irritably.  Then she turns and glances at me. “You're a shrinker, Alisa. And you’re still grounded. I had planned to put you right back in my shoe the when get home,” she adds. I look away… and I start involuntarily shaking as I suddenly feel her run her fingers along the smooth skin of my cheek. She absentmindedly wraps a strand of my hair around her fingers.  

“But… Mom… I… just can’t…” I plead.  “Can't I just have a day… to rest… please, just a day…?” I whimper timidly. She doesn’t respond, but I can feel the tension growing. She’s gone a week without feeling my tiny body under her massive soles, and I remember that look on her face as she gazed down at me last time, flattened to her foot flesh… all powerful… secret, sadistic delight… I’m sure she’s itching to get me back down there. And I’m making that difficult.

“Alisa, honey, I’ve gone so easy on you in the past…” she finally replies, delicately, still rubbing her fingers along my cheek. “I don’t know how else to say this… you’re going back whether you like it or not,” she declares, pulling her hand back to the steering wheel and focusing her eyes on the road. I’m shaking, quivering.

…

I don’t… know what to do.

…

…I remember Ms. Pattie, and her flowing red hair, from last week. 

…You seemed to care about me. I even remember wishing you were my mother.

…I need to see you again, I want to come back and see you again.

…

Somehow… as carried away as Mom is getting with this… I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance…

Powerful spongy flesh and muscles threaten to crush my very being.  A sauna-like sea of sweat and grime is all around me.  I am Mom’s insole... Just like I knew she wanted.

I am smashed. Crushed.  Her weight suddenly shifts to and fro, sending a steady stream of burning pain coursing through my body.  She lifts her foot just a bit… and I rise along with it, stuck to the doughy, soft flesh of her sweaty foot. And this allows me just a moment.  Just a moment to fill my lungs. Then the pressure increases as her full unimaginable weight stands upon me once again.  

And she starts walking… again.  The heat… the pressure… the feeling of her massive foot flesh as it starts engulfing, encasing, and pressing my tiny naked body... such torment. I cry, losing my tears in her sweat soaked foot-flesh... Her massive, sweaty foot is a thousand times larger than me.  In her entirety… she’s standing atop of me, balanced, and unimaginably huge.  Now mom has the laws of physics as on her side, and she knows it. The smell of her rubbery shoe is mixing with my dreamy mind. Confusing me. 

…Sometimes my mind floats back to school, to Anna, or the car ride home, or to Ms. Pattie...

…but…

...I’m…  

I can’t move.  I can’t breathe.  NO!  I’M IN MOM’S SHOE!  God, NO!  Why won’t this end?  Why won’t this just end!  Her foot rises.  Her foot falls.  BOOM!   Her foot rises.  Her foot falls.  BOOM!  Her foot rises.  Her foot falls.  BOOM!  Each step she takes drives me closer and closer to unconsciousness.  Usually I can figure out where she is or what she’s doing.  I can’t today.  And at times I again forget that I’m in my Mom’s shoe at all… I’ll start thinking I’m still trapped under Anna’s massive sole, or forget what’s going on entirely. But I eventually pick up on the subtle differences and I remember I’m back underneath my mother.  

…

…

…

…Wait.  Wait.  I’ve been unconscious… and I have no idea for how long.  I’m crushed.  Still underneath her. 

“But Mom!” I hear my little sister’s muffled voice ring from high above, outside my prison.  

 “I already told you, you’re going to have to wait until tomorrow,” I hear Mom reply, shifting her weight to and fro upon me again. Mom, GET OFF ME!  GET OFF OF ME!  My ribs and arm scream in pain. I feel sick.

“But I’m so BOOOORED!” I hear Wendy whine. 

“Well go back in the house and make your dad play with you,” Mom’s muffled voice replies. So we’re outside.

Yes, Mom’s feet are extra sweaty.  Mom must be gardening, that’s the only time she’s outside standing for an extended period of time.  We must be right outside of the shrubs and bushes in front of the house...  At least that’s my best guess. I try to imagine the giant world around me… I wish so badly to see it again.  Will I even survive the rest of this month? It’s never been this intense.

 “Why can’t I just play with Alisa?” I hear Wendy continue. 

“Honey, I’m sorry, but she’s got to spend some time with me to learn her lesson,” Mom replies.   God.  The crushing pressure of Mom’s feet… the steamy smell of her rubbery sneakers… I must have… something… besides this awful, twisted existence under Mom’s crushing foot!  I begin to struggle, crying, clawing in the pain for any way out of this.  

Suddenly with a quick stomp I’m flattened so hard that I regret ever moving in the first place.  God.  She really knows how to make it hurt.  ...Fighting is useless... my pitiful struggles… are so pathetic...

...

...  

“I’ll let you play with her tomorrow, okay sweetie?” Mom finishes.  

…

…

… 

I suddenly awaken, as I feel cool air rushing in all around me.  Finally.  Finally. 

But… I’m still stuck to the sole of her foot as I find myself lifting up and out of the dark, dank prison of my mother’s sneaker.  I’m bombarded by bright light, and as my eyes adjust, I see my beautiful mother’s brown locks of hair dangling down over me as she looks me over. The giant, sweaty sole of her foot is my horizon, and she wiggles her massive toes at the edge of it, as she loves to do, smirking and watching me move along with the doughy, sweaty flesh. 

At this point I can’t move at all, as my tiny broken body courses with burning pain throughout my ribs, and my broken, completely limp arm. I feel tears streaming down my cheeks.  I look up at my mother’s god-like face… not even a hint of sympathy.  Her massive eyes focus intently on me as she examines the damage she has done.  I’m now involuntarily gasping in the air around me.  It still smells like Mom’s foot and sneaker, but I don’t care. 

“Hi there!” she smiles.  “How'd you like being squished under my big smelly foot all day?” she adds, her massive white teeth filling my vision as she grins. She’s clearly in the thick of it. Tears fill my vision, making things blurry.  “Thought I'd let you out for just a second, since you have a phone call.”  The next thing I see, Mom’s cellphone comes into my vision from out of sight.  It then gets larger and larger, the ear speaker filling my sky.  Mom’s mouth leans in.  “She can hear you now,” she says, but not to me.

“Toe-jam!” Anna’s voice rings from the speaker above me, above the horizon of my Mom’s sweaty foot. I feel myself already mentally shutting down just hearing the sound of her voice.  “I was thinking we could go to the mall when you get out of trouble…” she continues.  “I need to buy some new boots,” she laughs, “you can help me pick some out, then I’ll take you out to eat, or something. Alright?”

Of course, I can’t reply.   But Mom pulls the phone back up to her ear.  “She’ll see you in a few weeks then,” she adds, glancing down at me. “She’s very lucky to have a friend like you,” she adds, almost as an afterthought, then after a moment ends the conversation with a polite “bye,” before she turns the phone off and puts it in her pocket.

She looks at me again, from an angle, not head on.  I can't read her.  “Well Alisa, guess there’s some light at the end of the tunnel for you after all,” Mom says quickly, as I find myself plummeting back down toward her sneaker.  I whimper.

------------------

I awaken, sitting on the couch in the living room. I remember Mom's foot crashing down on me for the thousandth and ten-thousandth time after being put back in her shoe.  I remember... from under her foot I heard her cooking dinner... I also heard the faint voices of Wendy and my father in the distance.  They sounded like a perfectly happy family... laughing... bickering... perfectly content without me.  That was last night, because I see morning sunlight cutting through the window on the right side of the room.

My ribs are still on fire… and my right arm still dangles limply from my side. Broken. And I’m stuck this way.  I try to sit up, but my ribs quickly tell me it’s not worth it.  Besides, the couch cushions are large and fluffy. I feel myself sinking down into them, and it feels quite nice. Yeah… Maybe I’ll just sit here for a while…  it’s so nice…

But where is everyone? The television has been left on, and I find myself zoning-in on it.  Some group of women are sitting around discussing some political matter that I actually have no interest in, but I find myself focusing on it anyway. After several minutes pass, I hear the front door open.  Footsteps are running my way. As Wendy’s grinning face comes into view, I suddenly realize that I’m not completely unshrunken. 

Wendy is bigger than I am.  I’m the size of a child.

“Hiiii!” Wendy grins, as she plops down on the couch to my left, practically on top of me, causing me to lurch in pain.  But her large happy face fills my vision.  It occurs to me that the clothes I’m wearing… a purple T-shirt and jeans… are a bit baggy on me and must belong to Wendy.  

But Wendy… Mom’s violet jewel is now around her neck. “…Hi Wendy,” I say, cautiously.  I’m already imagining being smashed underneath her giant sweaty feet as she plays in the yard. 

“I missed you SO MUCH!” she says, as her arms wrap around me.  I’m taken off guard, and it hurts my ribs as her warm arms squeeze me, but I feel a calming, warm feeling wash over that I haven’t felt in a long time.  Her arms release me, and I find myself fighting back the recent memories as I look into her large, happy blue eyes. 

“Wendy!” I hear my father’s booming voice call from the next room. I shudder…I know what’s coming. “Your sister is still grounded, put her in your shoe now,” he commands.

“But Dad!” Wendy calls back, annoyed.  “I’m gonna do it, I just wanna play with her a little before I do,” she adds. Dad doesn’t respond.  I look Wendy in the eyes, then glance at the door behind us.

“…will you take me… outside to play?” I whisper in her ear.

…

…

…

After I hobble a few steps towards the back door, it becomes clear that walking myself isn’t an option. 

And so I find myself being carried toward the woods, with my skinny, shrunken left arm wrapped around Wendy’s neck, and her larger, normal-sized arms hold my bottom firmly keeping me from falling.  I have to whimper occasionally as Wendy’s pace causes my ribs a jolt, but in my mind it’s a small price to pay for the trip. It’s so pretty outside.  I can’t begin to describe how good the fresh air smells. But looking up over the trees, I can see the nearby custody tower, looming a bit in the distance. We're pretty close to it... I can even feel a light tingling sensation all over my body, we're so close. Thankfully I know we'll move away from it a bit before we reach our destination.

I know where we’re headed… Wendy’s tree house a little way farther into the woods.  I find my mouth watering at the prospect of eating the lunch that Wendy holds in a pack in her left hand – peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, with drinks packed along too. This is one of the only times EVER I’ve been even slightly glad to be shrunken. I’m small, so the food will be huge to me! I'm absolutely ravenous.

The trip up the rope ladder proves to be a little more difficult than simply walking, and I’m forced to hang on to Wendy’s neck with my working arm as she releases her hold on my bottom.  Thankfully, it doesn’t take her long at all to scale the height of the ladder, and then we’re in her tree house.

“Lunch time!” Wendy grins, as she lets me down.  I struggle to stand up on my own, but I find myself hobbling over to one of the stools that sit on at the small table at the center of the room.  Despite this, I can’t quit grinning as Wendy tosses my lunch out of her pack: a bag filled with my sandwich, some chips, and a soda.

“…It looks so good,” I say, as Wendy takes her lunch and sits down across from me.  I try to take my time, but as I open the plastic baggy containing my sandwich, the scent of it is too much to resist.  And the sandwich is difficult to hold at this size with one hand. It’s HUGE to me, heavy even!

“You were hungry, huh?” Wendy giggles, as I find my mouth covered in jelly as I struggle to get the huge sandwich to my face with one arm.  After I get a few bites, I drop it to the table and cram some chips in my mouth, along with a huge gulp of the giant soda I have to grip carefully with my left hand to keep from dropping.

“…Yeah… it’s all SO good,” I grin.   Wendy’s blue eyes shine with pride.  “Did you fix this for us?” I add.  She nods sheepishly, proudly.  “That’s… awesome, you’re a good lunch-fixer,” I add.  She smiles back happily and takes another bite of her own sandwich. After all I’ve been through, demoted to toe-jam and foot-crud… stomped and walked upon like I’m absolutely nothing… 

…maybe… sisterly bonds are stronger than Mom and Anna’s brutal crushing feet.

…

…

Lunch goes splendidly, and we soon find ourselves lounging around the tree house listening to Wendy’s radio.  My arm and ribs are throbbing in pain, but I try to ignore it.

“Are you ready to go in my shoe?” Wendy suddenly asks with a grin.  I’m actually confused for a moment.  Is she really giving me a choice in the matter?  I look at my dark-haired little sister, lounging in the lawn-chair across from me with her shoes off, her white cotton socks moving as she wiggles her stubby toes from within.  

Am I ready to be flattened under my giant kid sister's sweaty soles like a bug?

“You’ll get in trouble if you don’t, right?” I say, feeling the blood rush from my veins.  I want to run away, but I know it’ll do no good.  And I love my kid sister.  I don’t want her to get in trouble.    

With that, she hops up and walks over to me, sticking her large grinning face in mine.  The violet jewel dangles from her neck, which she takes and holds between her thumb and forefinger, as her face turns into what can only be classified as a huge, bratty little sister grin. “You are grounded... after all...” she giggles.  And with that, my brief escape from this hell is over.

With a twist of the jewel, everything goes black.

...

This… actually isn’t horrible. We’re at church, and Wendy is wearing a long blue dress… with pantyhose on, and her nice new brown flats that Dad bought her a few months ago. These shoes haven’t been worn more than a few times before today, and still have a rubbery smell emanating from them.

Of course, I’m half-an-inch tall, plastered to the sole of Wendy’s foot. Inside the hose.

It’s still not pleasant, but I’ve grown somewhat comfortable, which is more than I can say most of the time. At least it’s not so bad compared to what I’ve gone through recently. I would be more comfortable if her foot wasn’t so super cold when it’s out of her shoe. But Wendy isn’t content to keep me inside her shoe any longer than Mom can force her to. She’s usually got her leg propped up on her knee, flexing her giant sole and stretching her toes in the hose. I hear the standard rhetoric echoing off the walls in the distance. We don’t always go to church, but on the days that we do it tends to reinforce my mother’s commitment to keeping me underfoot.

I’m not the only shrinker in this room today.

…

"Without a doubt, there are some people out there who think they know better than the truth!" booms the voice in the distance. All stuff I’ve heard since I was a little girl. "But it is WRITTEN… that servants are supposed to obey their masters!" he continues. Of course, in this day and time servant is synonymous with shrinker. Master is synonymous with owner. And I am the lowly servant, and Wendy and Mom are my masters. "It is God’s plan. It is written… that servants should worship their masters’ feet as the feet of God himself! The master’s supremacy is paramount to God’s plan."

I used to believe all that… not so much because I had any vested interest in being a "master" or a "normal" myself, but because I was taught was right to think this way. I was taught it was wrong… stupid… or evil even, to disagree. Even after I had been shrunken and stuffed in Mom’s shoe a hundred times, I still believed it was all God’s will. Part of me still believes it, plastered to Wendy’s sole, with the fiery rhetoric echoing off the walls miles away. Part of me wants to just give up. Something seems almost… sacred about simply accepting my fate and worshipping Wendy and Mom’s massive soles. Maybe this is God’s plan.

With her nylon covered sole wiggling playfully on her knee, Wendy has given me a chance to push myself away from her flesh for a moment and look around the room. And I can see other people, all of which I know. All giants. But I clearly see a girl with short brown hair I’ve sort of known since I was little. She’s a normal, but her little brother recently found out that he was not so fortunate.

I watch her for a few minutes, until I see her slip her foot out of her shoe.

At first I don’t think much of it, but something catches my eye. There is the tiniest bump. I can barely make it out, and my vision is hindered by Wendy’s hose, but there it is, and I wouldn’t have seen it at all if not for the perfect angle of her foot in my vision against the backdrop of her skirt. Her foot is covered in dark nylon much like Wendy’s… but I saw him, if only for a moment. He was there, perfectly still. Instead of sitting beside his sister as he used to, now he’s flattened to the bare sole of her oppressive, muscular, sweaty foot.

And in my mind, I can’t help but assign more value to her than him, as she tips her foot to glance absentmindedly down at her tiny brother turned bug. I can’t help but see her as his superior in every way, now that he is so tiny at her feet. ‘The master’s supremacy is paramount to God’s plan.’ He had said. We all know this to be true. I know this, and he knows this, and his giant big sister knows this. What she is doing to him now is perfectly acceptable. Perfectly normal. Expected.

My vision suddenly shifts dramatically, as Wendy tilts her foot more toward her face, interrupting my thoughts. ‘Hi!’ she mouths, inaudibly. ‘Buggy-buggy-buggy!" she adds, sticking her finger to her sole and pressing me in, losing me in the flesh before releasing the pressure, again and again. She can’t stifle an audible giggle.

"…put your shoe back on," Mom suddenly snaps, leaning into Wendy’s ear with a whisper. I see irritated looks on both of their faces as their eyes lock, and I can’t help but laugh a bit inside. Wendy is on true mother-daughter terms with Mom… and any rebellion on Wendy’s part is comical to me, as Mom just has to put up with it. Mom can’t just shrink Wendy like she can me!

But she can still control her… because now I’m headed back into Wendy’s shoe. At least it’ll be warmer… although I prefer being able to breathe more easily.

…

…

…

"I’ve gotta secret-secret!" Wendy booms, as she peels off her hose, leaving me stuck, plastered to the smelly sole of a suddenly bare foot. I still smell the rubbery scent of her new flats on it. I’m not feeling the same bitterness that I normally do toward Mom or Anna, even with that jewel dangling around her neck. Wendy is sweet. Nice even.

"I’m working on a surprise for you!" she grins. "But you don’t gidda’ see it until I finish it," she adds, as she plops down on her bed and wiggles her massive toes around, giggling, with me still stuck to her sole. It reminds me a lot of what Mom likes to do with me after walking on me for a long day. Wendy’s massive, glistening, spongy sole is freezing my tiny naked body, unlike Mom’s and Anna’s which tend to hold their heat for a while out of their footwear. Wendy’s feet instead suck away all my body heat, pulling it into her freezing toes and soles and leaving me feeling like an icicle.

Her massive body has smashed me today, and I’m so tired and broken. I could start crying at any moment, but I’d still much rather be with Wendy than Mom.

I love Wendy. I don't guess I'd mind so much belonging to her…

…

…

…

When Wendy decides to take a nap, I welcome it, and soon I’m lost under a sky of soft white blankets. I’m still stuck to her foot, but under the cover it slowly begins to grow warmer, in turn warming my tiny cold body. I can’t shake the feeling that she’s intentionally returning the heat that was taken from me throughout the day by her freezing sole. It feels wonderful. Before long I hear Wendy gently breathing in the distance, asleep… and for just for a moment… everything is okay.

…

* * *

…

"It’s been a while since I’ve seen you Alisa," Ms. Pattie says as I take a seat. I missed my last three appointments with her, but of course it was completely out of my control. "I haven’t seen you at school recently either," she adds, as I don’t respond.

"I’ve been grounded," I say bluntly. I’m so tired and broken that I don’t care anymore.

"Oh," Ms. Pattie says, lowering her eyes and writing something on the pad in her lap. "Is your arm alright?" Ms. Pattie adds with concern. I look down to see that I’m holding my weak right arm with my left arm. This causes Anna to spring to mind, and I shudder. But before I can stop it, Anna’s giant crushing feet enter my mind and the thought is cemented there, battling with for my attention with what I see in front of me. I was crushed. I was broken. I was nothing underneath Anna’s massive sole, and more than once, I know she was tempted to end my very existance, crushing me underneath herself.

"…Do you know… a girl named… Anna Robins…?" I manage to say.

Ms. Pattie looks thoughtful for a moment. "Is she a little blonde girl?" she finally says. I find it irritating that she refers to her with so little reverence, considering the crushing impact she’s had on me.

I worshipped her.

"Yes, I’ve seen her," Ms. Pattie adds. "Never talked to her though."

"She... wore me in her boots for a week," I say. I know my face must look distant. I’ve waited forever to get back in here, to talk to Ms. Pattie… to get some help. But now I’m someplace else. And then I feel tears welling up. Looking up, I see a look of pure sympathy on Ms. Pattie’s face; a look of sympathy… and of helplessness. "Mom and my little sister took turns wearing me in their shoes for three weeks after that," I manage to get out. "I can’t… do this anymore!" I sob.

"Alisa…" Ms. Pattie starts, but stops again.

…

…

"Would you like me to talk to your parents about what this is doing to you?" she says.

My heart nearly stops. "No, please don’t!" I beg.

"…Alisa, this needs to be addressed. You’re clearly in a lot of pain… both physically and emotionally. I think your mother’s gotten carried away with this, and that they don’t understand-"

"YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!" I hear myself scream. "THEY DON’T CARE ABOUT ME!"

"Alisa, please try to calm down," Ms. Pattie says. My heart is racing. My blood is boiling. How can she be this ignorant of what I’m truly going through? Approach my mother about the problem? Ms. Pattie was supposed to be a light at the end of this tunnel. How could she offer up such a blind solution?

"Don’t you understand! They don’t CARE about me!" I scream.

"Alisa, if we could just talk to them about this, then-"

"They would kill me!" I interrupt, yet again.

"Really," Ms. Pattie retorts dismissively.

"YES THEY WOULD! THEY WOULD LITERALLY KILL ME," I declare, but she still doesn’t seem swayed, the same dismissive look donning her face. It feels like hitting a brick wall. To my utter frustration, I realize that Ms. Pattie is simply too naive of the forces at work in my life. Mom would put an end to my miserable little life if she knew I was actively trying to escape from her. But looking at Ms. Pattie, I see the clear cynicism on her face: Naïve of my circumstances as a shrinker.

I’ll have to shatter that innocence before I can possibly get any help from her.

"Normals kill us every day, Ms. Pattie. Like bugs." I start. I look at Ms. Pattie’s large green eyes to see if she believes me, and I at least see she’s listening. So I continue. "When she was younger… Mom killed her own brother and her own two sisters, just for fun," I say, bluntly. Again, I try to read her. I see her trying to reconcile this notion with her current image of my mother… but I know it must be difficult. "Ms. Pattie, normals kill shrinkers like bugs if we don’t behave… and sometimes even if we do. Just for fun. Mom suffocated her little brother and sister in her shoes just for fun. She even put my aunt on my birthday cake just to watch me eat her when I was little," I add.

Ms. Pattie just stares at me. I still can’t read her.

"If they knew I was talking about this I’d be shrunken permanently, or eaten, or crushed in Mom’s shoe, or something else horrible," I say, finally, averting my eyes from the beautiful, naïve lady. "Ms. Pattie, please…I… I don’t know what to do…" I say, staring vacantly at Ms. Pattie’s dark, black loafers.

For quite a while, all I can hear is us breathing. Clearly she’s having trouble accepting my view of the world around her as the truth. "Alisa… I can’t imagine someone would be that cruel to their own daughter…" she finally says.

"Wendy’s the only one of all of them who cares anything about me," I add. For a few moments all I can hear is my own heavy breathing, as we both absorb everything I’ve said.

"…Wendy?" Ms. Pattie finally asks.

"That’s my little sister…" I say, exasperated. I feel my heart starting to slow down.

…

"But didn’t you say your little sister wears you in her shoes too?" Ms. Pattie asks.

"She doesn’t know what she’s doing. Mom and Dad make her do it. She just thinks it’s funny to make me smell her feet," I add. "Mom taught her to do it, she doesn’t understand how much I hate it," I add.

"I see…" Ms. Pattie replies. "Alisa… this may be a strange question coming from me, but if things are this bad for you, why haven’t you simply… run away, to somewhere that they don’t treat shrinkers this way?"

"I can’t," I reply.

"Why not?"

In response, I point out the window, to a large tower that just happens to be in view. It looks like a cellphone tower, but is taller, with a greater diameter. You can see it from miles away, and there are several of them throughout the town and county. "That tower, it puts off a signal sort of like the one that shrinks me," I say. "But it's for a different reason. My body's grown dependant on it. Shrinkers can’t get out of range of the towers. My muscles will stop working if I do. If you took the signal away for too long, my heart would stop beating."

"I had no idea what those were," Ms. Pattie ponders, looking out the window with me.

"That’s how they found out I was a shrinker in the first place. They turned off the tower by my house one day, and I got so weak I collapsed in front of Mom and Dad."

We just sit for quite a while, as Ms. Pattie stares out the window.

…

…

"Don't you believe me?" I reply, glancing at the ginger-haired lady. She’s become solemn.

"…Yes I do," she replies, looking me square in the eye. "But Alisa, I don’t know how to help you… this is a far bigger problem than I originally thought," she adds.

"I know," I reply.

"Let me… Alisa… let me do some research on this. Let me find out some things. I’ll see what I can come up with, there’s got to be something I can do. I'll help you…. somehow."

And I look away, as I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

Perhaps the worst part about being a shrinker is never being sure that when I go to sleep in my own bed, I won’t wake up flattened underneath Mom’s giant sweaty sole. I usually have a hard time drifting off to sleep, with the anxiety welling up inside me at the thought of that very real possibility.

So when I open my eyes just in time to see massive toes already closing around my miniscule, naked body, I’m mortified, but not entirely surprised. I let myself go limp. There’s no point in fighting it… as the massive folds of muscular, sweaty flesh knead me into a tiny ball. I just let it happen.  The forces surrounding me are insurmountable.

“Guess what?” I hear my little sister Wendy’s voice say quietly. “GOT-YOU!” she says in a loud whisper, as she pulls her foot around, opening her toes and wiggling them as she fills my vision with her massive mouth. I look down and can see Mom’s jewel dangling from her neck. She must have stolen it while Mom and Dad were still asleep. It’s early, the sun is just now creeping into the window. And here I am, already smashed between her toes, her massive, cute, grinning face filling my vision.

“Wendy! What are you doing!” I yell up at her as loudly as possible. I know my voice, even then, will barely register. But the house is quiet enough at this hour that she appears to hear me.  I see her massive lips begin to move. 

“I’m going outside to PLAY!” she grins, the brattiest little sister grin she could possibly muster. She then closes her massive toes around me again, squeezing me back into a tiny ball, grinding me around while quietly giggling. She opens her toes again, this time leaving me plastered helplessly to the side of one of them.  I just lay there limply, the breath already squeezed out of me.

Wendy, why? Why are you being such a giant brat!

It doesn’t take long for Wendy to walk back to her room with me still crammed between her second and third toes.  I hardly get a chance to catch my breath as a see the opening of Wendy’s massive blue sneaker approaching, into which I am quickly thrust.  And with that, that quickly, I’m in the darkness, being playfully molded between her gigantic lower digits.  Her feet aren’t so cold today, not that they usually are when she wears me outside to play. In fact, they’re already starting to sweat. I’m not even grounded anymore, Wendy. What’s the deal!

 “I finished your surprise!” I hear Wendy’s muffled voice sing from high above, outside of the stifling sweaty darkness.  Surprise? What is she talking about?

…

…

Wendy grins as she plucks me from between her giant toes.  I’m smashed a bit, but nothing compared to the punishment I’ve received from Anna and Mom in previous weeks.  But despite her usual sweetness, Wendy can definitely have a mean streak. She’s always liked skipping through the yard when she’s got me in one of her shoes.  But secretly… part of me actually likes hearing her singing happily as she hops around in the yard, even if it’s while she’s doing so on top of me.

We’re in her tree-house.  I remember it looking a lot… smaller… last time I was in here, though.

“So, I thought you might LIKE this!” she says. I look up at her freckled face, as she holds my tiny naked body between her thumb and forefinger, the ridges of her fingerprints gripping me tightly.  She thought I might like what? I don’t see anything.  But I suddenly feel that I’m headed downward.  I wince at the suddenness, but at the same time I trust Wendy not to truly hurt me.

“Ta-da!” she sings, as I find myself standing on solid ground, with Wendy’s fingers releasing me and disappearing high upward at her side.  Okay, now I’m in a box.  What is this? The ceiling is about four or five of me tall, and as I look around I can see there is quite a bit of space for me to walk around. 

Then I smell it. Chocolate. I smell chocolate, the strongest whiff of chocolate I have ever smelled.

“Go on, breakfast time!” I see her grin, as she slides the box shut. That’s when I realize this must be a large match box. But I’m not in darkness, as there are tiny holes poked out of the top of the box. The light is fairly dim.  I can make out a… huge… chocolate kiss, already unwrapped, just waiting for me.

Oh… God… YES! I’m… going to make myself so sick….

…

…

The thing about chocolate… is that it melts when outside in the heat.

So when Wendy slides the matchbox open to take a look at me and light shines in, I hear her laughter bust out from high above.  I know I’m covered in melted chocolate.  It’s all over my arms, my legs.  But oh, GOD, it is so good.  So rich, so sweet. Wendy, thank you!

“You did like it, huh?” she grins.  I know amongst the sounds of the birds and other outdoor noises, my voice will probably not reach her ears, so I just look up at her and do a sort of curtsy, attempting to nod ‘yes’ with my entire upper body so she can see. “I thought you would!” she replies, clearly understanding me. 

I actually managed to eat only a very small amount of the total chocolate. But I’m already stuffed. At my current size the entire kiss which would make about twenty of me, maybe more.  Looking up a Wendy, I see her looking at the remaining candy, then at me covered in it, and that huge bratty grin returns to her face.  “You didn’t finish it!” Wendy laughs. Suddenly my entire matchbox-house is being lifted high into the air, myself rolling to the front wall.

My stomach gets tied up in a knot, partly from vertigo, but mainly because I think I know exactly what she’s doing…

…My fear is confirmed as Wendy’s gaping, wide-open mouth appears, filling all vision beneath me as the box is tilted farther and farther toward her.  “Wendy! No!” I scream, but the box continues to shift, leaving me dangling by the corner of it, only my stronger left arm able to hold on.  I see Wendy’s massive hand pass over me, and with a well-placed tap, the giant, partly melted kiss is sent plummeting over top of me, into the darkness of gargantuan little sister’s mouth.  My tiny body was sent for a quick jolt, up and down, but somehow I manage to maintain my grip even as the giant candy is jettisoned.

Wendy’s massive lips close around the chocolate, leaving me dangling alone by the corner of the box.  I reluctantly look down, watching her massive mouth move as she makes quick work of the candy, sucking the melted chocolate, and commences to reopen her mouth, treating me to a view of the chocolate chunk, in moments reduced to a saliva soaked oblong ball floating on her now chocolate-covered tongue.

I can’t help but notice how much of the chocolate has already travelled down her throat.

“COME ON!” Wendy’s massive voice booms, her chocolaty breath washing over me, as my tiring left arm feels like it’s about to give out.  “ALISA, LET GO!” she laughs, her bratty grin filling my vision, as she opens her mouth, extending her huge tongue out below me.  “AH-HHH-HHH…!” reverberates all around me, as she sticks out her tongue out as if it’s been requested by the doctor.  Using her hand, she gives the box a quick shake, and I suddenly find my left hand holding to nothing but open air.

It doesn’t take but a moment for me to land with a bouncy thud on the huge squishy pink muscle known as my little sister’s tongue.  I’m immediately enclosed in darkness, as her massive lips close from the surreal view of the inside of her mouth. As small as I am… I'm sure she can barely feel me.

But the giggles I hear around me are deafening.  I have a sudden, sharp, painful realization, as I remember my poor Aunt Sarah’s horrible end.  Was this what it was like for her?  Was this what she saw, what she felt, when my own chocolaty spit engulfed her tiny helpless form and then took her away, into the darkness of my belly forever? At least I'm pretty sure Wendy doesn’t intend to swallow me.

Now there’s suction.  Suction.  Rhythmic suction. I feel like my arms and legs are being pulled in every direction at once, splaying me out impotently as the huge bumps of Wendy’s tongue press into me and run along every part of my tiny naked body.  “MMMMM!” I hear her voice reverberate all around me, as my chocolate coating is removed.

This is crazy…  Wendy, please… let me out of your mouth… please…

I begin to pull, fighting the suction with every ounce of my strength.  No. STOP!

Please… STOP!

…

…

…

I see blurry light.  Where am I?

Looking up, I see a giant face hovering above me.  I reach up and wipe my face clean, and the face takes clearer form.  It’s Wendy.  We’re still in her treehouse, just like before.  And I’m lying helplessly in her palm.  I’m so tired… I’m clearly no match for the enormity, power, and precision of her gigantic mouth… and gigantic tongue.  I see the violet jewel dangling above me, from her neck.

“Sorry, I’ve sorta… been wanting to do that for a while,” Wendy grins down, with bright eyes.  “Oh, here, I don’t think you ever got to see your box from the outside!” she adds, and I see her hold up the matchbox above me, into my view.  It’s pink, covered in plastic beads and glue… with my name written in bubble letters on the top.  And beautiful hearts drawn lovingly all over it.

“I was thinking this might be nicer than wearing you in my shoe all the time, y’know?” she says. “I mean, we still gotta do that…” she adds, “But lemme know what kinda candy you want next time, I’ll get you whatever!” she grins. “You think you could help me make a tiny little bed for you to sleep in, too, for when you hafta stay that way for good?”

…Hafta stay that way for good?

It only takes a moment for me to put two-and-two together.  There's only one thing that would make Wendy say such a thing: Mom must've let it slip in her presence that I'm going to be shrunken permanently in the near future.

…My days of waking up in my bed as a normal-sized girl are coming to an end.

God… It wouldn’t be so bad if Wendy got to keep me, as she seems to think she will… but I know better. 

Oh yes, I know better. Mom will have me buried underneath her sweaty, enormous feet for weeks… no, months on end, if this comes to pass.  The last glimpse of light I ever see will probably be from between her giant toes as they slide into her sneaker overtop of me for the thousandth-thousandth time, with no end in sight. And if I get to see Anna at all… I’ll be the size of an ant.  Demoted to toe-jam…? I’ll be a permanent resident between her toes.  There will be no hope of any sort of friendship if I’m permanently shrunken, I’ll be nothing.  Nothing to Anna at all.

“I better take this back before Mom wakes up,” Wendy says, taking the violet jewel in her hand.  “You think Mom’ll even keep this thing?” she adds, further confirming my suspicions that soon, in the future, the jewel will have no purpose. Yes, clearly I'm right.

“Alright! Back in my shoe,” Wendy grins, her face taking on that obnoxious-little-sister, Imma-make-you-smell-my-feet look I know so well by this point.  Without a moment of hesitation, I find that I’m plummeting along with Wendy’s hand, and as she tilts her palm, I fall with a thud to the insole of her blue sneaker.  I get just a quick glance at her freckled face looking down at me before her foot eclipses my view and enters. It quickly smashes my tiny body into the filthy insole, as she lets her weight stand upon me. I hear her giggle as she takes off for the house, her massive footfalls smashing me under her smelly sole with each step, as she loves to do.  Oh God… shrunken… permanently.

I'm in big trouble.