Tiny Dancer

 

Coffee Table Hardbound Signed Free-Range Limited Edition

(with sprinkles)

 

Linda Johnson was so bored. It had only been two weeks since she had been bought out at the law firm. She knew that she should be getting on an airplane to visit some far off and exotic locale. She knew she should be celebrating the enormous windfall of money she had recently come into. She should at least be planning her next triumph, the next stage of her life. Linda should be doing all of these things, and more. She was finally single, six months out from the divorce. She should be dating. She should be shopping herself around. But, were any of these choices laid out before her what she truly wanted? So many possibilities, so much potential and so much time with which to carefully craft every decision and action.

 

 

 

Linda idly checked her favorite websites again. Perhaps someone had updated one of those embarrassingly straight-to-the-point erotic stories about tiny people being taken advantage of and worse, at the hands, feet, bodies and domineering minds of their normal sized or even gigantic, impossibly sized captors. Linda sighed, there were no recent additions and no completely new stories anywhere.

 

 

 

After lunch, Linda retrieved from her bedroom the sketchbook she had accidentally found in her son's things that were stored in the attic. She went into Mike's old bedroom and sat down on his single mattress bed, tucking her legs underneath of her on top of the quaint, old Steelers bed spread. Linda slowly went through the drawings, looking each one over for what seemed like the hundredth time. She took her time looking at each one, assessing it. As always, she had to admit that her son was talented. He had captured his subjects perfectly. Linda knew this because her son's drawings were of her, in a way.

 

 

 

Linda did not know how many of these sketchbooks her son had gone through while a teenager. But he had certainly practiced sketching her from memory until he could reproduce what he wanted to from any angle, and in any position perfectly. Linda always wondered why, when he was young, she would catch him looking at her like that. It was so obvious now. Unable to withhold the temptation any longer Linda turned to the last pages. These drawings were special. They were near and dear to her heart, or at least to her psyche. Linda took in each one slowly, thinking about not only what was on the page, but the imagined situation, the imagined dialogue in her son's mind as he had drawn them.

 

 

 

The rest of the pictures in the sketchbook were surprising enough: studies of Linda's hands and feet, and the occasional study of her mouth. There was not a single drawing of her entire face. Perhaps her son knew better than to blatantly identify whom his subject truly was. But it was obvious to Linda, perhaps obvious to anyone who had any artistic preoccupation. You only had to look. You only had to compare. But, these last drawings. Her son had drawn someone else as well here in these last few pages. The naked male was very small, perhaps three or four inches in height in most of the drawings, though in some the poor little man was smaller. Linda knew immediately the first time she had laid eyes upon this tiny person who it was. You only had to look and compare. Such demeaning positions. She often wondered if any of those online guilty pleasures she allowed herself to read and view might be also enjoyed by her son as well. They had to be. Had she done this to him? Had Linda's particular sexual "fascination" colored her interactions with him somehow? Had she been too dominant when he was a boy? Too cruel? Was this entirely random? After all, she had adopted her son. But what were the chances of that?

 

 

 

Her smartphone came alive, chirping at her. Linda picked it up and noticed immediately that it was a text from an old friend, someone she had fond memories of when they were in the same sorority so long ago.

 

 

 

SharonLove: why didn't you tell me, Linda?

 

 

 

Linda responded, "tell you about what?"

 

 

 

SharonLove: just got back from a birthday party. Went to Chase's Buck-Line. That male stripper club in town. Did you think you could keep this a secret?

 

 

 

"Keep what a secret?"

 

 

 

SharonLove: your son! I know it was him! He was dancing there! Don't deny it!

 

 

 

Linda cursed at the clumsiness of texting and immediately dialed Sharon's number.

 

 

 

Linda finished off the Pinot Grigio that had been languishing in the door of her refrigerator. She had opened another bottle after that and now was rather drunk. She tried desperately to smooth it over with her old friend Sharon, stoically denying that it could be her son, Mike, that her friend had seen. Linda was quite sure that Sharon had not believed her and it stung. The last thing Linda needed was such a crippling embarrassment in front of her tight circle of friends. This was supposed to be her time. She was supposed to be freeing herself of needless obligations to make way for a glorious re-sculpting and rebirth of her life. This was obviously shameful and an entanglement. It would be laid directly at her feet and might never go away. After all, she was his mother and must therefore approve of such poor decisions. Sharon was going to tell everyone, Linda knew just by her tone.

 

 

 

Linda's phone softly chimed, signaling the presence of fresh email. The first email was brief and cryptic, another close friend from college had canceled a meeting for dinner and catching up that they had planned for the weekend. The terse, disinterested language was uncharacteristic of her friend and that could only mean one thing; Sharon had spread the news. Linda wore a grim expression as she checked the second email, also from another member of the tight circle of friends.

 

 

 

Another brusque message, Linda's entire payment for a room next month in her friend's ski lodge had been refunded to her bank account. Apparently there had been a mistake in the booking and they were full up for that particular week. It was a thinly veiled excuse, the email was lacking the typical cheerful affection that colored every other interaction she had ever had with her close friend. The message ended in a condescending tone: perhaps Linda could use that idle week now to spend time reconnecting with her son?

 

 

 

There were the changes that Linda had fought for: the divorce, an early retirement. This was so much newly uncovered territory at once in her life that it was actually stressful to her in subtle ways. But to lose her friendships now as well? To have the few concrete things left in her life taken away, stolen, because of her son's stupidity...

 

 

 

Blinking back the tears of frustration, Linda felt like she was floating, blind, without any landmarks at all now. She felt like she had been suddenly crippled. Linda felt truly alone.

 

 

 

As Linda sat on the couch she watched the smart phone footage that Sharon had shot and sent to her for the tenth time at least. She tipped back the wine bottle as she watched. It was Mike. There was no doubt. Linda paused the video and put her phone down on the coffee table. She sighed deeply in frustration. Ever since he had gone to college, her son Mike had been neglectful of her. He had to know how difficult divorce had been on her. He had to know she was lonely. He could be so stupid sometimes. At times like these, Linda wished she could force him to listen to her. That was even a stretch and a fantasy, she thought to herself, he was beyond that. Linda was beyond such gentleness as well. In one swift stroke, Mike had ruined so much. She wished she could…

 

 

 

Linda glanced down at her phone. Her son's naked body was frozen in the paused footage, arms stretched high over his head in a confident, swaggering dance. Her phone lay on top of his opened secret sketchbook, on top of the realistically shaded drawings of that very same same body pinned and pleading for mercy beneath his mother's ridiculously sized bare foot.

 

 

 

Linda picked up the phone for a moment. She giggled to herself, Mike was just too big. She re-sized the paused frame of video. She played with the resizing thoughtfully. If she could… This would be his fate, this would be his ultimate size. If she could? Linda knew she could, she simply had to retrieve a single small key from her closet safe and then undertake a fifteen minute drive… and she would.

 

 

 

This would be the first piece of Linda's new life, her next and newest triumph. She smiled confidently and placed the phone back down next to her favorite drawing. She stared at the much smaller image of Mike and took another sip. It was as if it he was trapped beneath the glass of her phone's screen, arms overhead, beating his fists in frustration. It wasn't far from the truth, in a way. Because Sharon had been there, had recognized him, had shot this very same video, Mike was now trapped.

 

 

 

Linda giggled and brought a foot down over her phone.

 

 

 

"You've been a very bad boy recently, haven't you?" She slurred as she blotted out her son's body with a big toe. Her touch unpaused the video and Mike sprang to life again, shamelessly dancing underneath his mother's punishing toe. The sight made Linda's scalp tingle excitedly, but she ignored it.

 

 

 

"This was my time, you little shit! You've just ruined my friendships and my reputation with your shenanigans! I think it's time you were put in your place! We both know where that is, don't we, Mikey?"

 

 

 

The next day, despite the hangover, Linda drove to her bank and removed her grandfather's proudest scientific accomplishment from the safety deposit box. Perhaps her grandfather was right, perhaps the world was not ready for it. But Mike was definitely ready for it. Besides, Linda ached to see it for herself again. She had been a little girl the last time she had played with the results of her grandfather's research. Now she was responsible, for Mike, for his unfortunate actions, and for her grandfather's legacy.

 

 

 

Mike had been working at the club for over three months now. His roommate had turned him on to the place and after realizing how much money his roomie pulled in working only part-time, Mike couldn't resist. You would think dancing at a strip club would be sleazy, but the owners were, strangely, former professors at Mike's college. Mike did not know the details of how and why they decided to open up the club. But in the small college town this place was well scrutinized and begrudgingly approved of. It was its image, exclusively a woman’s club and the owners kept it clean and free of the sketchier aspects which permeated most of such places. Perhaps it was also the liberal view of the younger, well educated populace of the town which allowed it's existence to continue. Mike did not know, nor did he care. He had been an athlete in high school, but also was in most every school play and musical. His penchant and talent for performing in front of an audience totally unfazed allowed him to easily take on the role of a male dancer. The clientele was usually about half young, college aged women, and there was no impediment to his studies by taking on such a job. He had fun and only at part-time, three nights a week, he made more money than he had ever seen.

 

 

 

There was that strange day, it was last Wednesday. After Mike had showered, and as he was getting ready to go in to work he got a text from his mother.

 

 

 

"Hi, honey! When are you coming over to see me? How about this, how about I come to see you?"

 

 

 

Mike replied, "can't. Busy for the rest of the week. Can I come over this weekend? I can probably make time then."

 

 

 

Her reply was immediate, "that's too bad. I am in town now. Came to do shopping today. I guess I will spend some more time here before going home. This weekend would be good for me! XOX mom."

 

 

 

Mike didn't think anything else of the exchange and finished drying his hair, he needed to get going to the club.

 

 

 

Halfway through the night Mike noticed the strange woman. She had seated herself in the back of the crowd. Large dark sunglasses hid her eyes. A scarf was tied over her hair, and she wore a vintage mid-calf raincoat. She looked like she had stepped out of a 1960s movie.

 

 

 

Mike didn't have much time to study the woman, but there was just something about her that seemed so familiar. Was it his mother? Her hair was dark, not his mother's natural platinum tresses. A wig? That was preposterous, yet there was something about her that lingered in his gut. It could be her face, but Mike could not tell. He was sure his mother did not own clothes like that. However, after he left the stage for a break he lingered behind the curtain to one side and peered out with a good view. Mike didn't need his mother's face to identify her. She had other characteristics that Mike knew all too well.

 

 

 

Mike watched the woman from the safety of the shadows. He noticed that now she did not seem to be paying much attention to his coworkers on the stage. He watched as she stirred her drink with the straw. Long nails adorned her hands, but Mike could not be sure, he did not get a good enough look. Mike went to the other side of the stage but the view here was totally obscured. Frustrated, Mike went back into the maze of hallways and dressing rooms that connected to the stage. No one was in the security office, it was Wednesday, so the security guy was probably out in the bar.

 

 

 

Mike sat down in front of the security monitors and brought up one of the new cameras that had been installed in the ceiling where the strangely dressed woman sat. It took a minute or two, but Mike figured out quickly how to connect the camera to the single joystick sticking out of the console. He panned over to where the woman sat and began to zoom in.

 

 

 

Filling the monitor in front of him were a pair of beautiful, almost unique feet clad in fancy, stylish sandals. Tall arches and smooth, well kept, tanned skin. It could be her, but they were definite ways to be sure. With a few more nudges on the joystick Mike centered the woman's toes of one foot in the monitor. The big toe was long and nicely shaped. The nail bed wide and very deep. The nail of the toe was noticeably convex longitudinally, a pleasing but pronounced curvature to it. The toenail itself was grown long, and it hung out over the tip of the toe a tasteful, manageable length. The rest of the toes were beautifully shaped as well. The nails were shorter than the ones on the big toes, the nail beds were not quite as deep. Still, they were very pleasing, wonderfully shaped and very beautiful. Both feet looked alike, feet that due to the long toenails adorning the big toes were never placed within high heels. These were feet that were meant to be seen as much as walked upon. The kind of feet that Mike adored. Feet that Mike clandestinely looked for in the warm sandal-wearing months attached to the young women around him while he walked to his classes on campus. But these feet in front of him on the monitor, Mike knew them very, very well. Each curve, each swell, all those subtle but telling shapes combined to form a unique identity. These were unmistakably Mike's mother's feet.

 

 

 

Despite the undeniable evidence right in front of him, Mike simply could not accept this as fact. This could not be her. This wasn't how the world worked, or at least, how the world that Mike knew operated. He felt numb, like he had suddenly hit an unexpected and insurmountable wall.

 

 

 

Mike spent a little bit more time confirming that it could be his mother. He had to. There was always the outside chance that someone else might have feet like that, though he had only seen two, perhaps three sets of feet like this in his entire life. He next checked her hands and found them to be exact matches to his parent. He was a secret and obsessed expert on those particularly elegant and well kept identifiers as well.

 

 

 

What was there to say about his mother's hands? They were beautiful like the rest of her, hands easily good enough to be in commercials or modeling jewelry, though to Mike they were strangely exquisite pieces of art themselves. Linda was blessed with deep nail beds and strong, fast growing nails. Her fingernails also exhibited that same convex longitudinal arch to them as her toenails, a feature that for some reason he found to be particularly elegant, perhaps because of it's rarity. He never fully understood what made particular woman’s hands or feet beautiful to him, but he could spot the qualities instantly at a glance.

 

 

 

Mike had observed over the course of his relatively few years on this planet that there wasn't much correlation seen in the women around him between hands and feet. On more than one occasion Mike had been enchanted by shapely and well kept hands, only to discover later that the female in question did not exhibit the same trends of shape and beauty with her feet. Mike did not know what to make of that, other than to think that he was an arrogant snob pertaining to an invisible, perhaps nonexistent aesthetic that most people would find downright strange, if not insane.

 

 

 

After discovering the probable truth of the matter, Mike didn't feel a single thing. His inner self should be riled and screaming at this point, condemning his own stupidity or strategizing some kind of an elaborate ruse, an excuse or escape. But there was nothing. Mike stood up woodenly and made his way to the break room. He needed time to process this before he could even react with thought, let alone action.

 

 

 

Midway through Mike's next dance the woman abruptly got up and left. Mike decided that it was time to make the long drive out this weekend and visit his mother. The rest of his week was spent contemplating what this meant. Had she been stalking him? Clearly, if it was in fact really her, then she had to have been wearing a brunette wig and trying her utmost to conceal her identity. How could she have found out where he was? Ultimately, if that was in fact his mom, what would she think of his lucrative part-time job? The rest of Mike's week seemed awkward and slow to him. He just wished it would be over, no matter how painful or inconvenient, Mike just wanted to know if his mother had been spying on him. At night, before he would go to bed, Mike would look through the family photos he had on his computer. He studied the pictures of his mother, at first to make sure his suspicion was correct. But, ultimately the pictures of her were too tempting, and Mike gave in to his old teenage habits.

 

 

 

Friday afternoon Mike filled the tank of his car and made his way out to the highway. As he drove he considered what he might have to answer for if his mother broached the subject of her presence at the club Wednesday evening. The whole event seemed unreal. Mike admitted that if handled wrong, with poor word choices, it could end up a train wreck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I immediately knew when my mother answered the door that something was off. She was quite happy to see me, and yet… For a moment I swore that there was a sort of veiled, dark nervousness within her blue eyes in the instant just before she threw the door open wide. As I came into the foyer, I noticed that her subtle anxiety had completely evaporated.

 

 

 

Despite my uneasiness I couldn't help but notice how unusually vibrant she looked. It was at least very obvious to me that her skin positively glowed, but more than that I couldn't decide. Was I seeing the after effects of her preparing for some formal social event she had recently attended? Perhaps she had gone on a date or a spa retreat with her girlfriends? There was simply an aura of healthiness about her which was strangely counterbalanced by the furtive, withdrawn light in her eyes.

 

 

 

"Oh! Who is this handsome stranger? My goodness, let me get a look at you."

 

 

 

My mother half-mockingly looked me over, and yet there was some weight to the gesture. It was almost as if she were taking in my entire outline for the first time or perhaps committing my appearance to memory. She looked almost sad for a moment as her eyes traced over my broad shoulders.

 

 

 

"What is it? What's that look for?" I asked.

 

 

 

My mother smiled self-consciously, realizing that I had noticed. "Oh, I was just thinking about how big you are right now. You're all grown up!" The phrase she used was strange, the "right now" part just didn't fit into any context and shouldn't belong anywhere in that sentence.

 

 

 

Something was unquestionably off and it made me feel awkward.

 

 

 

Then there was the kiss: as we hugged I gave my mother a peck on her cheek, "I really missed you, mom!" She drew back her face and smiled up at me, "well now, that just isn't a good enough kiss for your mother! I haven't seen you in ages!"

 

 

 

My mom's fingertips traced down my chest and she leaned into me, looking up into my face excitedly. Her touch and closeness made me feel uncomfortable, it seemed somehow inappropriate. I was acutely aware of her mouth, of her face, so close to me. I was immediately reminded of my forbidden, teenage fantasies which apparently I still harbored very strongly. I fought to not react as I instinctively imagined her beautiful face as gigantic, an utterly intimidating... I instinctively killed that musing in mid-bloom before it could tinge my face with it's emotion.

 

 

 

My mother smiled sweetly up at me and a finger stroked my lips as she studied my features. Something in her eyes changed and her voice became more serious, as if somehow heavy with resignation, "I want a proper kiss, Mike, a really memorable one, who knows?" Her eyes swept over my silhouette, "Maybe this will be the last time I'll be able to kiss you like this?" I didn't really understand her sentiment, it seemed so gloomy, but besides that, how she worded it was just clumsy. Kiss you like this- what the hell did that even mean? It was rare for her to fumble her diction and she had already done it twice.

 

 

 

My mother affectionately grabbed my face between her soft, warm hands. She bowed my head towards her as she stretched upwards on her tip toes, kissing me on the mouth. Her lips churned against mine and I tried to pull away from her but she wrapped her arms around my neck. This was a lover's kiss, a passionate kiss. I sputtered as I felt her tongue force it's way into my mouth. I tore myself away from her and stepped back in shock.

 

 

 

"Christ, mom!" I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as she started laughing. "What was that all about? Have you been drinking?"

 

 

 

My mother grinned, "maybe I have! Or maybe I'm just afraid that you'll never come out to see me ever again. It's been almost a year, Mike!"

 

 

 

"No, it's only been, like, three months, that's all, maybe four." I glanced around, my mother had a thing for good wines. I didn't smell any on her and there were no orphaned bottles on the counter. She had never been an unpredictable person. What was going on?

 

 

 

"Four months, huh? You don't even know, do you? Well, I remember! I know exactly how long it's been since I've seen you last. It's been seven months! Seven months, Mikey!" My mom gave me an exasperated look and turned away from me. She walked off through her house as I followed. "It's been too long since I've seen you, with your father and I... well, don't let me get going about all of that. The point is, I haven't seen you or talked to you in forever." I hung my head in shame and tightened my resolve. She wasn't happy about my long, irresponsible absence and this entire visit could be spent defending myself.

 

 

 

As we made our way through her kitchen, my mother retrieved a slim, metal watering can from the counter. I could not help myself any longer and I took the opportunity to glance down at her bare feet. I almost audibly gasped, her feet were in rare form, even for her. Newly applied red polish adorned her perfect toes. The skin of her feet looked almost radiant, silky smooth from some sort of very effective beauty product or treatment. I forced myself to tear my gaze away from them only to find her looking at me. I thought she might have caught me in the act but she turned away, expressionless.

 

 

 

Her feet had been prepared for a social engagement, definitely. Something to do with her getting bought out at the firm? A red carpet gala? Something where she was forced to wear strappy heels? Obviously something had happened or perhaps was about to happen where she wanted them perfect.

 

 

 

My mother began to fill the can from the tap and smiled at me apologetically over her shoulder, "I'm sorry, Mike, but I sometimes feel very possessive of you, you know. To some degree, you're still my responsibility, even if you're away at school." She gave me a playfully sinister grin, "you've been a good boy while away at college, right?" My mother turned away and began to walk again, bringing the watering can with her, "Because, if not, Mommy might just arrange to keep you, all to myself."

 

 

 

Something about the tone of my mother's voice gave me pause. I stared after her as she walked away, trying to discern her words. Besides all of the rest of her strangeness, I realized that she had not referred to herself as "Mommy" since I was a child. I knew my mother, or I thought I did. To me, this almost seemed like one barely controlled outburst after another. My mother was fun, but a very strong woman, in consistent control of her emotions and habits. There had been more than one childhood friend who had described her as "intimidating". Was she so angry at me that she couldn't hide it completely? Those sinister undertones to everything, what was up with that? She had to have been a little bit drunk, or tired, or stressed- something.

 

 

 

Wait a minute.

 

 

 

Was this all about my strange encounter last Wednesday? Oh my God. Was that woman really my mother? Did she watch me dance from the back of the crowd?

 

 

 

It could be that, but it certainly didn't explain the majority of my mother's subtly bizarre behaviour and words in the minutes since she had opened the front door. Was there any other hypothetical situation which fit better? It was as if she kept hinting at some ominous change coming... something pertaining to her? Was she going to sell the house and move away? God forbid, was she sick with something... terminal? Was she about to introduce me to some lover of hers? It was my father who had cheated repeatedly, perhaps she was finally bouncing back from their divorce? Did she... did she know about my fascination with woman’s.... with her... least important aspects?

 

 

 

As I followed her I tried to calm and steel myself to maintain my composure, no matter what. Then, I realized that something else was completely wrong. What was it, exactly? Why... Why was my mother walking... like that? I watched in consternation as her butt swung a little bit... seductively? What the hell was going on here?

 

 

 

We finally settled in my mother's living room. Even though I had taken a seat, my mother stood, content to speak with me as she tended some houseplants she had placed in the room's large bay window. As she moved about I noticed that there was some subtle difference in the way that she carried herself. Believe me, it was exactly the sort of thing that I would have definitely picked up on long before now if it had been there. My mother's walking was incredibly graceful and accentuated, beautifully languid. Her stunning bare feet flexed smoothly and slowly with each step. Her feet were exquisitely set back down to earth, her heels touched down first, of course, and then her high arches would gracefully roll forward a moment before those exquisite toes dropped. The effect of her harmonious comportment coupled with her gorgeous tanned legs was incredibly potent and quite beguiling to me.

 

 

 

Was this all deliberate? Despite my mother's incredibly graceful movements her feet were almost... too active... during each step- simply not quite naturalistic. Was she flaunting her bare feet in front of me? Was she making a clandestine mockery of my particular… tastes? I considered for a moment a simpler explanation; that all of her newly acquired spare time meant that she had been doing a lot of yoga. Not being familiar with yoga at all, it wasn't outlandish to me that it could account for this overabundance of poise. What the hell did I know? The answer ultimately mattered little to me, for once I spotted how she moved I was utterly hypnotized. I had to fight repeatedly to tear myself away from gawking in order to meet her gaze at the appropriate time when she might happen to glance over at me.

 

 

 

My mom paused in caring for the plants and related to me the recent happenings in this very rural county. As she talked she would glance down at her beautiful feet, slowly flexing them. Her perfect red toenails glistened, and countless tiny pillows of creamy flesh formed on her soles. As she ended her tirade about rural taxes and the local school board's misadventures she smiled happily at me. She lifted one foot, fanning out and scrunching her gorgeous toes as she held my gaze. I did not waver from her gaze, keeping my face relaxed and my eyes sedate even though a panicked river of emotions hid just beyond my dull façade. Her behavior made me very uncomfortable and I felt a terrible sinking feeling in my gut.

 

 

 

To be honest, it thrilled me that my mother was not wearing socks and shoes. She had perhaps the most beautiful feet and hands I had ever seen, only equaled by two or three other women I ever had the pleasure of witnessing. All of these women, my mother included (for obvious reasons), were impossibly unobtainable. But, I had at least always sated my neurosis by stealing glances at my mother's wonderful body parts. I knew that I was very lucky that at least one of these women was a constant presence in my life. I could never get enough of her elegant hands and especially feet and my mother never disappointed, always maintaining all of her nails scrupulously.

 

 

 

But right now, it was as if she was daring me to look at her feet. I did not understand why she was acting like this, unless she somehow had figured out my perverse fascination. This was an assaultive tour de force of thrilling distraction for me and I decided that it was all just too tempting. The last thing I needed was for my mother to find out about my strange fetish. I deliberately kept my eyes above her breasts, not allowing them to roam at all.

 

 

 

I busied myself with surveying what lay on the coffee table before me. My eyes settled on an object that I did not recognize and I reached out, picking it up from the nicely figured wood. I turned it over in my fingers as we spoke, it was some sort of a glass lens in a black plastic housing, like a detached piece belonging to a telescope or perhaps a microscope.

 

 

 

"There, these plants are finally taken care of," my mother set down the small, elegant watering can and turned to smile at me, "oh! I wondered where that had gotten to!" She padded gracefully to me on those gorgeous feet of hers and I forced myself to not glance at them, instead gazing into her smiling face.

 

 

 

"What is this? Did you buy a telescope?" I offered it up and she took it from me with one perfect hand.

 

 

 

"A telescope? No, silly! It's a jeweler's loupe." My mother held it up front of my face between her thumb and index finger, turning it back and forth. I was more than happy to take the invitation to openly gaze upon her beautifully manicured and polished fingertips. She held it up to one eye and looked at me through it, a large, unreadable smile crossed her face as she gazed at me. Her smile actually gave me a shiver, though I could not at all explain why, "I got this so that I'll be able to… Well, you and I are going to need this later." I watched as my mother managed to slide it into a front pocket of her tight shorts, "I have a little project that I've been working on lately." She almost looked disappointed in my lack of interest on her "project" and she chuckled as she turned away from me.

 

 

 

"Well, Mike," my mom said with a contented sigh as she finally sat down in a nice formal chair across from me, "I'm so happy that you found it in yourself to undertake the treacherous trek to come and see your lonely mother. I sure hope you didn't have to kill any bears on your way here, or swim across any rivers by yourself." She grinned.

 

 

 

I was relieved that she pressed the subject no further and just settled on a simple joking quip about how far out in the country she lived. Had it really been seven entire months that she had claimed since I had seen her last? I had routinely been ignoring her phone calls and messages for the longest time, but there was no real conscious reason to do so. I guess that I just didn't want to deal with her, especially during the protracted divorce from my father. I had studies, a girlfriend, college life and partying. My mother's home was a long drive from where I now lived. But, really, all of these excuses for my negligence were empty and stupid. I was just another self absorbed young person- like any other student living around my college's campus.

 

 

 

"Well," I said, feeling suddenly so damned guilty, "I have classes. Lots of homework. But I'm doing well, all caught up right now. Your text Wednesday got me thinking that it was about time that I come out to see you."

 

 

 

My beautiful mom crossed her long, tanned legs in the chair and bounced a glorious foot in the air. Her tiny shorts pulled up tightly. She rested her hands in her lap and smiled sweetly at me, "Better late than never, hmm?"

 

 

 

Ever since I had been a teenager, my close male friends seemed to have always been smitten with my mother. She was a potent example of a MILF for them. It was always humorous to realize why a friend might upon first meeting her grow silent and awkward when she entered the room or answered the front door.

 

 

 

My mom had occasionally been mistaken for being an older sister in relation to me. To be fair though, I did not know exactly how old she was, I was adopted after all. Does that even make sense? Would a natural born child have any more accurate of a notion as to how old a parent might be? All I had were the amount of candles on her birthday cake each year as a rough guide, and I knew those were a tongue-in-cheek gag of a lie. She was distant enough in age to have obviously adopted and cared for me. But, I could completely understand all of my male friend's confusion, my mother looked quite youthful and she was effortlessly beautiful. She easily could have been a model or perhaps an actress. But, my mother had a formidable mind and she ended up a quite successful attorney.

 

 

 

"So, do you have a girlfriend?'' My mother smiled, it was creepy. She was unreadable to me, completely opaque.

 

 

 

"Well, sorta. Why?'' I asked.

 

 

 

My mom bent forward and reached out, picking up what looked to be a large, antique bottle of perfume off of her coffee table. She hefted it and lightly smelled the cap. Where had this come from? Was this regal looking bottle a recent purchase? As far as I knew, my mother cared little for antiques.

 

 

 

"Because I don't want her to feel bad if she doesn't see you again."

 

 

 

My mother smiled at me in a strange manner, it was confident, playful, yet almost sexy and dirty.

 

 

 

"Huh? I... umm... I don't understand."

 

 

 

My mother ignored me for a moment, tapping her well manicured long fingernails on the perfume's cap and crystal bottle. Shivers ran down my spine and I wanted to turn away. She pulled off the perfume's cap and leaning forward again, gracefully placed it on the coffee table. As she spoke she leaned back into her chair and smelled the top of the perfume around the atomizer. My mother seemed to be really savoring it's scent, her blue eyes grew mischievous.

 

 

 

"Well, you know, out here in the middle of nowhere anything could happen. You could get a flat tire. Run out of gas. You could even be abducted, Mike. Vanish off the face of the earth without a trace."

 

 

 

"What? What are you talking about? Are you feeling okay?"

 

 

 

She was smiling broadly, yet again thoroughly unreadable to me. There was a strange gleam in her eyes.

 

 

 

My mother finished smelling the top of the perfume bottle and seemed to want the cap she had placed upon the coffee table. Instead of leaning forward to pick it up she unfolded her long shapely leg and extended it towards the coffee table. I was transfixed as her foot reached out to the perfume bottle's silver cap. Her long, gorgeous toes fanned out and as she picked it up between them I saw her smirk for just a second, barely perceptible amusement in her eyes. Did she know I was watching with well-hidden, giddy awe? She laid her foot on top of her other thigh and slightly squeezed the silver cap between her toes. I could barely contain myself and I felt my cheeks grow hot as I blushed. She had to be doing this on purpose.

 

 

 

"Oh, of course I'm okay, Mike. I just worry about you! I haven't seen you for so long and... well... You are going to college in the big bad city!"

 

 

 

My mother tucked a thick strand of her platinum hair behind her ear. She idly ran a beautiful index finger over the perfume cap held between her toes.

 

 

 

"Huh? I don't understand. Mom, honestly, I'm practically a grown man now! What is all this about a big bad city? It's beautiful and clean there, and my apartment is pretty nice too."

 

 

 

She was stroking her thumb tip over the long, wide toenail of her clenched big toe. I almost couldn't stand it, and I felt the first stirrings of a boner coming on.

 

 

 

"You are more vulnerable than you know, Mike. Mommy can't protect you there."

 

 

 

I was exasperated, I had no idea what she was going on about. I could not pay attention to everything that was in the air at once, it seemed. I didn't understand why my mother seemed like she was putting on a seductive foot show for me. I also couldn't fathom why she kept looking at me in such an inappropriate manner. Now, I was baffled by her strange paranoia.

 

 

 

"You're talking like I was still a child! Like I was a little boy! But I'm obviously not! Just look at me!"

 

 

 

My lovely mother grinned in a way that chilled me to my core. Her eyes were smoldering.

 

 

 

"Oh, I am looking at you, honey, and all I can see is a little boy. A soft, vulnerable little boy."

 

 

 

The dark playfulness in her eyes changed to something else. What was that look? It disappeared immediately after surfacing, leaving me wondering if I had seen anything in her eyes at all.

 

 

 

"Soft?" I shook my head incredulously, "mom, I work out all the time, I am not-"

 

 

 

"Oh, I know! Put your shirt back down, you don't need to show me your six pack!"

 

 

 

"I am not soft, here, feel this-"

 

 

 

My mother waved me away disgustedly.

 

 

 

"Oh, I know you've been working on your muscles, Mike. You're always doing that!"

 

 

 

My mouth hung open, what was her game? Was she making fun of me? As she spoke again she was peering down at her big toe while she stroked it slowly and gently with her finger, "those muscles of yours might impress those college girls. They might think that you're manly, maybe even rugged. But, I'm your mother, they don't know you the way that I know you. You have a nice, strong physique, Mike, but I'll bet you would feel velvety soft to me, wouldn't you?"

 

 

 

I felt my face go rigid with frustration. Her words made no sense at all. Was she- my mother couldn't possibly be on drugs, could she? I watched as she brought her face down low over the top of her clenched toes, she was studying the underside of her big toe. With a slow gentleness she caressed her toe's pad with the tip of her nail. She glanced up at me for a second and then whispered as she intently caressed it, "such a hard little naked body. I bet that you would feel so wonderfully delicate… just right here… mmm... trembling... right... underneath of... me.”

 

 

 

My mother raised her face to me, a confident and treacherous smirk upon it. I could take no more of her cryptic and insane nonsense.

 

 

 

"What the fuck are you even talking about? I don't understa-" 

 

 

 

Suddenly, my grinning mother raised the bottle and sprayed me in the face with the fruity perfume. I grabbed my burning eyes, trying to rub them as I gagged. "Make a wish, Mikey, mmm, and make it a good one." She was laughing as I staggered towards her, blinded and coughing. I felt light-headed, and felt darkness pass over my eyes.

 

 

 

When my eyes opened, I discovered that I was laying in a massive heap of denim and cotton. I felt as if I was a gladiator in a mighty coliseum constructed out of my own clothes! I seemed no more than an inch tall, perhaps less, I could not tell. The rough denim was solid enough under my feet. The monstrous jumble of my clothing radiated great heat- it was my own residual body heat streaming off this insane landscape. I looked further up, and discovered that the couch was now a mountain to me. Just then, I heard a massive creaking sound, like someone changing their weight while sitting in a wooden chair!

 

 

 

A shadow covered up a portion of the uneven, jumbled floor on the far side of the area I found myself trapped in. There was a silvery flash of something plummeting downwards and an impact on the denim I stood upon, violently deforming the thick cloth surface and knocking me down. The large object rolled, tumbling before coming to a stop in the center of my clothes. It was the perfume bottle's cap! The silvery cylinder was the size of an elevator carriage. The pungent, overwhelming fruity scent gagged me again. I heard several more loud creaking noises from the direction I had briefly seen the shadow. I ran away from the sounds, trying to gain the slope of my jean's enormous zipper to see over the far wall of cloth.

 

 

 

It took only milliseconds for my mind to interpret the strangely distorted vista rising upwards in the distance like some vast, natural feature made of weathered stone. But this was no tree-studded, fissured tower composed of tortured granite, rather something formed of golden, tanned flesh. It was my smiling mother, sitting in almost the same position, and in the very same chair as a moment ago. Though I had considered the possibility, I cried out in shock at the sight of her. My mind encountered great difficulty coming to terms with her scale. She was so very far away from me and yet, just right there, impossibly enormous and apparently real.

 

 

 

Oh God. Those legs! My mother's shins would rival a factory's smokestacks in height! Each one was distorted by sheer scale, her knees seemed smaller due to the distances involved, yet her ankles appeared massively oversized, even thick. She was like looking upon some imposingly colossal building, really nearly a mountain to my eyes and yet she was only sitting!

 

 

 

I suddenly realized that I was totally naked and, despite my horror I was rock-hard! I felt an overwhelming sense of feminine dominance, combined with a maternal warmth. Yet, part of this sensation was created by my panic which fueled my arousal even further, something I could never explain to someone not affected by my particular sexual madness.

 

 

 

My mountainous parent's blue eyes flitted about, searching, picking apart the details of the untidy pile of my clothing. Huge ligaments flexed, rippling vertically through the length of each one of her mighty ankles. Immense gleaming shapes rose for just an instant between my clothing barrier and the front of those monolithic ankles. The gleaming objects were so close and so alarmingly large that I shrieked in surprise as I stumbled backwards. What had I just seen? My stomach muscles flinched painfully and I groaned as I realized logically what those objects had to be. Those monstrous forms were merely the undersides of my mother's toes as they momentarily reared upwards in an unconscious adjustment!

 

 

 

The enormous being leaned forward slightly as she scanned my pile of clothing. The vibrations caused by her incalculably gigantic body's subtle movements raced outwards and passed beneath me, tickling the soles of my feet even through the giant denim folds that I stood upon. My mother's inquisitive gaze quickly spotted me and that familiar sexy, unsavory smile from earlier crossed her distant face once again.

 

 

 

I violently vomited, my nice lunch splattered over the enormous weave of the denim beneath me. More protesting wooden creaking noises split the air as my mother stood up from the chair. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I fought to take in her entire towering form with my eyes.

 

 

 

"No! No! No! This isn't real! Oh, God..."

 

 

 

My stomach became a hard knot as my mother took an enormous, graceful step towards me. A flash- just a glimpse of the bottoms of her toes and ball of her foot as it swung forward and dropped. The ground vibrated as her bare foot impacted the living room's carpet. Her first step caused her incredible form to soar upwards even more overhead. She had just covered half the distance to me!

 

 

 

Another step, accompanied with the muted thunder of it's impact. There was stronger vibratory feedback through the floor beneath me. I felt this powerfully through my feet and up into my calves. During my mother's second step her pert, fit body wildly distorted from my sheer tininess. I couldn't believe something so huge could move so quickly, and yet she had only taken two leisurely steps towards me.

 

 

 

I felt like I had been punched as I suddenly grasped an insane piece of logic: my pile of clothes only came up to the bottoms of my mother's lovely ankles.

 

 

 

My mother, Linda, stopped moving and put her hands on her hips. She was looking down into my pile of clothing at her feet. From my vantage point my formerly average height mother was mostly composed of impossibly huge, perspectively distorted legs. Smooth, monstrous ankles towered over the crumpled ring of my clothes. Enormous shapely calves expanded upwards into the sky. Her tremendous thighs were foreshortened so drastically that I almost could not see them. They terminated into distant hips covered with tight white shorts which her elegant hands rested upon. I could barely see her face beyond her enormous breasts. The look on her face was a haughty, gloatingly satisfied one and those shining blue eyes pinned my tiny form to where I stood.

 

 

 

"This can't be… Oh, God... Fuck.... fuck, fuck..."

 

 

 

One of her enormous legs moved slightly and she must have nudged the outside of my pile of clothes with a foot, the tall crumpled wall of clothing closest to her distorted and tumbled down. I cried out and fell to my knees. The same tanned leg began to slowly rise upwards and this sight spurred adrenaline to be dumped into my tiny form. There was a flash of red at the top of the ragged wall from where she had rearranged my clothes. My mother's toes lifted from beyond my prison, wiggling and flexing. My hair stood on end and I began to tremble. Despite my captor's vast scale which played tricks with my eyes, I knew those perfect digits were each more than large enough to trap me beneath them. They were more than adequate to effortlessly, gracefully smash me into paste. The beautiful big toe slowly ran over the ridge, feeling it, as if savoring my empty clothes.

 

 

 

The monstrous tanned foot crept slowly over the top of the distant cloth hills. It continued to slide forward, accompanied with a constant and loud swishing noise, the sound of soft huge toes gliding over fabric. I rocked backwards on my knees, holding both of my hands over my open mouth as tiny strangled noises issued forth, screams aborted from sheer shock. The mighty big toe and its smaller sisters explored the far side of my cloth coliseum, shifting in their spacing as they caressed the terrain of my discarded clothes. I felt my own urine trickle against the inside of my leg as my mother's foot, the size of a yacht, encountered the discarded silver cap of the perfume bottle.

 

 

 

As if seeking meaning to her actions I looked up to my beautiful mother, far, far above me. A haughty smirk was frozen on her face as she took her eyes off of the silver cap to glance at me where I crouched. Her frightening big toe traced over it slowly and then the long crimson toenail bulldozed underneath the cap. She smiled and with the smallest of motions the silver cylinder was sent rolling haphazardly across my enormous underwear at me! I scrambled out of the way, stumbling and falling as the cylinder rolled towards me. In a moment it had stopped, not very far from where I had stood. The disgusting scent choked me and I got to my feet as I raised my arm and clamped my mouth and nose into the crook of my own elbow. Beyond the huge silver cylinder the impossible, monstrous foot slid closer.

 

 

 

Above me my enormous mother was smiling, slowly propelling her foot towards the perfume cap. I crouched low and ran back away from the silver cylinder. There was an overhang of denim, like a great, frozen ocean wave of fabric. I dropped to my stomach and rolled sideways, like a lizard seeking shelter beneath a flat rock, wedging myself underneath the fabric overhang. As I peered out from beneath the overhang the wall of shapely toes came on, growing so enormous that I could no longer see her toenails. The digits became rounded structures, each covered with a maze of ridges. The enormous beautiful toes fanned out. She engulfed the little cap and gripping it in her stout toes carried it upwards, out of my cloth prison. I was shaking uncontrollably but I could not look away, creeping forward past the rough denim curl to follow the metal cylinder into the sky.

 

 

 

My mother raised her foot upwards and retrieved the cap with a pretty hand. This was almost like watching a construction crane affixed to a partially built skyscraper, but my vision was instead dominated by feminine curves and soft womanly musculature towering impossibly into the sky. As I watched she placed the perfume cap onto the impossibly large coffee table. The blonde giantess smiled mischievously down at me and the foot was back, sailing through the air as the beautiful toes wiggled. I pushed back into the rough crevice with a panicked cry. The view outside caused my hair to stand on end, the toes had touched down and they skimmed across the crazy terrain towards me. 

 

 

 

My mother's gargantuan toes paused outside of my pitiful retreat and they flexed demonstratively before stroking the tumbled landscape lightly. I squirmed sideways, checking for any cracks of light behind me that might denote an escape route, but my search was fruitless, I was trapped.

 

 

 

I trembled as I waited for the inevitable; the denim concealing me to be lifted away by an immense hand. But the effortless revealing of my tiny body never came, my mother seemed instead to be content with gently petting the jumbled snarl of blue jean material just outside of where I warily crouched.

 

 

 

What was she waiting for?

 

 

 

In quaking trepidation I gawked at the colossal toes from the false safety of my crevice. I realized that if I were to be unfortunate enough to view almost anyone else at this scale and this closely it would be incredibly horrific. An average person might exhibit a swollen, reddened hangnail, peeling dead skin, calluses... not to mention the stench of fungal byproducts and fermented sweat.

 

 

 

But not my mother. She was always scrupulous in the care and maintenance of her body. But, her inherent beauty and this recent extra care she had paid to her feet meant that at my scale these colossal digits almost looked fake, strangely homogeneous like an image manipulated photo. Her skin was uniformly vibrant and unblemished, cuticles flawless, nails perfect. The effect of these qualities coupled with her sheer scale was horribly potent like a fever driven nightmare. This was about ideals that were completely incompatible: say, a three story tall cherry, an impossible red rose resting upon crushed, burning buildings. Or perhaps sexy feet that were almost works of art transformed into unusually exotic purveyors of menace and terror.

 

 

 

The mammoth toes flexed and then fanned apart widely. The big toe slid forward with a rumble, centering itself in front of the overhang as I whimpered. The colossal digit slowly tilted to and fro. It dawned on me that she knew that I was looking and was playfully modeling her monstrous toe, letting me take it in like some perversely flirtatious treat.

 

 

 

Why was she doing that? Only a few things were certain- she had shrunk me somehow. I was suddenly impossibly tiny, trapped within a wrinkle of my own blue jeans and at her mercy. She was so far quite content to leave me on the floor beneath of her and tease me with... with only her gorgeous-

 

 

 

It suddenly hit me like a bolt of lightning. I cried out in sickening shock and covered my mouth, trying to not gag. She knew! Knew about the taboo and inexplicable fascinations I held for her!

 

 

 

I buckled and collapsed onto my knees. I was so tiny compared to her- what did she plan to do to me? Horrible and grisly visions from my own panicked imagination assaulted me. But, she could have effortlessly killed me already and yet she had not done so. It was as if she was being playful? At my current size absolutely anything that she might do would-

 

 

 

I could hear my own voice, a thin and broken screech, like an old woman in pain.

 

 

 

She knew and she was going to play with me or torment me somehow because of it. It seemed inevitable to me that I would be subjected to her feet, perhaps those now monstrous toes. It didn't matter what she planned to do with me, at my intolerable new size any interaction would utterly violate me. My mouth grimaced as a fierce tingling panic raced across my bare skin. I realized that I might quickly lose my mind in this cruel, impossible situation. My chest ached as I struggled to find a way in which to keep my terror manageable. That was a laughable impossibility, like the futility of trying to coax a wildfire into being calm and orderly.

 

 

 

The beautiful toe dabbed and swept lazily out in front of my tiny crevice, filling the air with rumbling murmurs from it's friction against the cloth. I was trembling badly, my breathing was too rapid, too shallow and uncontrolled. I truly felt like I was hiding from some sort of a horrific predator, something prehistoric, something the size of a bulldozer. If only that had been true.

 

 

 

My skyscraper-sized mother's big toe depressed against the floor of the crumpled, quarry-like arena of denim. It suddenly swept forward, her well-kept flesh and elegant toenail became everything beyond my hiding place. The mighty toe pivoted upwards, it's slightly proud overhang of toenail sent jolts through the mouth of the crevice as it passed. The ominously plump and powerful silhouette traced the outline of my hiding spot's only exit.

 

 

 

"Where did the little bug go? Is it trying to hide in that little crack? You've got a lot to learn, bug. You can't hide from me."

 

 

 

As those thunderous words hammered through the scant denim roof I began to babble hysterically. The gorgeous big toe floated upward and disappeared from my limited field of view.

 

 

 

"Such a little wrinkle, but I guess bugs don't need much space to hide in, do they?" There was an impact and a furious, completely deafening sound as the swell of cloth over me collapsed. My crevice rolled downwards, bunched into a wadded clot and propelled backwards, towards me. The crevice I lay hidden in deformed as I screamed in a terrible panic. The denim pressed down into me, trapping me. Then, I heard the cotton fibers compress and something enormous invaded my tiny, shadowy hiding spot. There was a widening gap in the fabric which parted like stubborn curtains to reveal that the invader was the tip of my mother's big toe.

 

 

 

The walls and roof of my hiding spot expanded away from me as they were distorted by the colossal, probing monster. I scrambled onto my feet and shrieked in panic, "Oh God, this can't be… Oh fuck! Mom! Please, mom, please don't..."

 

 

 

In the decreasing twilight, the tremendous digit tilted down as it slid forward. As it became dark, something that felt hard impacted across the middle of my thighs, silencing my panicked babbling as I was driven backwards. There was a flash of light as the fabric was shifted with a loud creaking sound. An enormous red convex surface was suddenly revealed, canted sharply down and gleaming. It reminded me of some sort of a gaudy, plastic roof belonging to a food kiosk that one might find at some foreign amusement park. It was my mother's toenail.

 

 

 

The thick, cold edge pushed suddenly against my thighs again, causing me to stumble. "Oh God, no!" I was pitched forward onto my face against it as the monstrosity continued to slide. I was taken along with it as the toe raised, leveling again, my tiny legs dangling off the edge of her nail. As I laid clinging belly first, tiny arms splayed out against my mother's toenail, my back plowed across the gigantic weave of the fabric roof.

 

 

 

"Mom! Please don't kill me! Oh, God! Mommy!"

 

 

 

I was pressed against the back wall of the cave like some ridiculous parody of an unlucky bullfighter as the digit delicately probed. I screeched in the dusty twilight, choked from my panic as my belly, chest and face were smeared across the smooth, slightly bowed surface of my mother's toenail. The thick fabric somewhere below me groaned as it was crushed, the sound of it greatly dampened by the monumental weight of the toe's dense flesh. I could not escape the almost bruising pressure of the colossal nail's lacquered edge across my stomach, like being pinned beneath a lowered garage door made out of glass.

 

 

 

The big toe mercifully retreated and I was ripped from it against the roof, falling heavily to the rough floor. The tremendous digit backed out slowly, patting and caressing the denim. My mother was delicately feeling for my tiny body and I hugged myself tightly as I gaped in horror. The stout digit's search deformed my little sheltering crevice into a small cave as it left. I tried to control my intense breathing as the menacing behemoths of unblemished flesh rested just outside, obstructing any escape.

 

 

 

My mother's big toe lifted slightly and stroked the jean material beneath it, "Where's that tiny little thing?" her distant voice thundered, loud enough that it easily penetrated the thick warped roof of my hiding spot.

 

 

 

I still tried to comfort myself in my terror, my shaking arms wound tightly around my own ribs. I could not look away from the plump, colossal toe that ran softly across the denim. The pretty, well-tended digit could fill my apartment's living room entirely. I could be crushed to a paste beneath my own mother's gently stroking appendage. This body that I had always inhabited could be reduced to just a patch of glistening, thick blood on the bottom of a perfect toe. A chill crept down my spine. My life could be wholly obliterated by the most unlikely of things, brought to bear upon me by the most improbable of monsters. I was cornered and I knew that my nightmarish mother was not going to stop.

 

 

 

My teeth were chattering as I stared at the mammoth, playful toes. I was not at all in my right mind as I foolishly crept to the widened entrance of my hiding spot. I cautiously stepped out into the light and took several cautious steps towards the behemoths. My arms tightened against my quaking ribs as I stared in shock at the row of perfect toes. I couldn't at all come terms with what I gazed upon and tears welled up in my eyes.

 

 

 

The beautiful digits were almost like those fanciful, gigantic concrete sculptures from the 1950s, things that one might find as a kitsch attraction next to some defunct old gas station out in the middle of the United States. But, despite their unearthly scale they were undeniably alive. I stood there, stooped almost like an old man as my stomach tightened sickeningly in response to being so utterly dwarfed and vulnerable. They mutely shifted, fattening against the denim like a family of grazing, prehistoric hippos. I soberly addressed the hulking digits as if they were somehow separate from the panic-inducing tower of living flesh far above, "Please," I choked out painfully, holding my hands out cautiously in front of me, "please... don't... don't crush me! I don't... want to... I don't... want to die!"

 

 

 

Leaving the questionable safety of the crevice had been a terrible mistake.

 

 

 

There was a tremendous gasp that tore across the sky far above me. It's sound could easily have been mistaken for soaked earth tearing violently away from a mountain's incline to begin a landslide. My mother's deafening inhalation was followed by thunderous, delighted words, "Ah! Now what could that be?"

 

 

 

Massive tendons suddenly rippled to life beneath the flesh of the vast foot's instep. The long toes all reared at once and they fanned out. I was warmed by humid air flowing past as I became suddenly covered in their dancing shadows. For a short moment I was paralyzed, unable to do anything other than gawk stupidly at the magnificent, plump silhouettes wiggling slowly in the air. The denim wrinkles I stood upon shuddered violently as the colossal foot shifted forward, bringing the giant raised digits directly over me.

 

 

 

My mother's toes had become a row of elegant, monstrous mallets poised above a single slow moving and delicate target. I was snapped instantly out of my moronic reverie- my own mother was going to crush me! I stumbled backward with a screech and as I spun, a thunderous, delighted chuckle shook the air. I caught a glimpse of a vast, rounded shape dropping. The big toe was touching down right where my naked body had just been! I desperately scrambled to make it back to my hiding spot.

 

 

 

The difficult denim terrain beneath my feet was yanked backwards as the ponderous toe sunk slightly into the fabric. I caught myself with my arms as I fell. Another rumbling chuckle deafened me as wind suddenly gusted up, ripping past me with an eery howl. I panicked as I realized that this wind was filling some sudden void behind me- where her colossal foot had just been!

 

 

 

"Why, that's no mouse," my mother's smooth, amused voice thundered, "it's much too small to be that." I scrambled up in terror as the wind died and a huge shadow slid across me. "Ahh! It looks like a naked young man, but the poor thing is only the size of a bug!"

 

 

 

A sudden, hot wind gust flowed over my naked skin from behind as I ran. Something smooth and hard collided with my back. I was thrown by it, crashing into a swell of cloth next to the opening. As I hastily recovered my footing I could see what had struck me and it was very familiar, already the source of several of my bruises. It was a convex, red varnished wall that almost seemed to be the size of a church door.

 

 

 

As I took in what surrounded this great oval pool of crimson, every thought and desperate need in my tiny skull instantly evaporated. Hovering low above the twisted textile landscape were those five colossal and exquisite toes. Their massively thick lengths ended in a stupendous ramp of flesh soaring upwards into the sky. This vast canvas of healthy skin supported buried veins every bit as thick as my tiny body. Everything I was gazing upon was just my mother's hovering instep which inclined upwards to join the tower of her ankle and shin.

 

 

 

My pulse pounded in my ears as I took in the monstrous toes, my gaze racing from one to another as if they were bullies surrounding me in some park late at night. I realized that an ugly, hoarse wail was unwittingly tumbling from my grimacing mouth. I tried to tend to it, covering my lips with one of my hands. The powerful, shapely digits flexed away from each other slowly, "Did you decide to come out and play with me, Mikey? Was it really scary under that tiny fold?"

 

 

 

The plump, hulking big toe flexed forward and glided towards me, filling my vision with the slightly translucent sheen of ridged flesh and lustrous red polish. "Proper bugs crawl on their bellies, Mikey. Everyone knows that." The great egg shaped body of her big toe suddenly swung skyward right in front of me, it's formidable toenail sweeping only inches away from the front of my body as it passed. I was almost toppled by the gust of displaced air created by something so large in motion. My gigantic mother had just gently flicked at my tiny form and it was like being narrowly missed by a car running through a crosswalk. I flinched and stumbled backwards with a thin screech, desperately trying to get out from beneath the threatening pad of the suddenly hovering digit.

 

 

 

"Aww, I missed, didn't I?" The big toe swung down and it's smaller sisters joined it in lowering, their flawless nails grazing the denim. "I think I'll just pick you up then," the goddess boomed. The colossal big toe and second toe that hung much too closely to me spread widely. All that my foolish, panic-struck mind could think of was animatronics from a theme park while the mammoth digits swung toward me as they closed. "Hold still, my little-" With a rush of hot air, the beautiful tip of her long second toe squarely struck my body from my knees upward as it delicately clasped shut against it's lumbering sister. I was effortlessly swatted aside, tumbling head over heels into the shadows of the cave.

 

 

 

"Dammit. Where did you go?" The titaness thundered.

 

 

 

Sweat-scented air flowed quickly into the little denim cavern as a veritable wall of curved toe flesh landed just beyond the ragged entrance. I stumbled to my feet with the help of a stiff fold of fabric and took in the frightening sight just beyond the opening of my sad sanctuary. My mother's exquisite big toe carefully prowled, exploring the denim beneath of it, feeling for me. I shrieked as the digit raised and prodded into the cave's aperture at an angle from above. Her elegant nail slid against the murmuring cloth as it lowered and the plump flesh deformed the opening as it came to rest, blotting out most of the light with a tremor.

 

 

 

"You're a lucky insect, aren't you, Mikey? I know that you're in there, bug, and I'm going to find you." The mighty toe slowly retreated, the edge of it's slightly long nail was dragged backwards across the denim as it left. My mother's simple, perhaps unintentional intimidation was successful, I was moaning with apprehension as her toe nonchalantly raked the cave's unruly foundation.

 

 

 

"Let's see, I wonder where you could be?" Just outside of my sanctuary, the pretty digit again delicately dragged the edge of it's long toenail across the wrinkled, twisted denim with a loud, sustained sound, "This is really such a tiny hole, isn't it?" The toes all fanned out, allowing the big toe to drop unaccompanied to the floor as it lined itself up with the entrance.

 

 

 

The front of my colossal mother's inescapable digit blocked off most of the light as it entered my hiding spot again. I scrambled in the twilight, searching to find any way at all to escape or hide. The denim groaned in defeat against the mighty appendage as it slid heavily inward, like a locomotive engine surging into a train tunnel. It thumped gigantically as it probed the little cloth cavity, it's heaving bulk caused currents of air to race across my naked skin. There was a flash of light as the digit deformed my lurching, crumpling hiding spot, revealing it to me. I shrieked in panic as in front of me the behemoth hunted. It was a wall of convex flesh which filled the tunnel completely. It's overhang of nail, situated several feet above my own head, scraped and wrinkled the shapeless, pliable roof. The colossal, meaty toe shifted again and it was suddenly pitch black all around me.

 

 

 

I was blind but I could hear my mother's toe searching for me. An all pervading warmth filled the little collapsing space as a huge surface, just a tiny sampling of my mother's immeasurable body, collided with me. It was like being hit by a slowly swinging wrecking ball. I was thrown backwards and my hands immediately went to my fiercely stinging face. My chest and thighs also ached from the impact and I groaned as I lay there.

 

 

 

"What was that I just felt?"

 

 

 

Something huge was moving in the darkness very close to me. I could hear a thick and slurred buzzing hiss, the murmur of a vast toe print played against the stiff weave of my cave's jumbled floor. The air itself compressed and my ears threatened to pop. Suddenly, hot and mercilessly dense skin brushed, rasping against all of my exposed body at once before pulling away. It happened so quickly that my reactive thrashing met only the hot, fragrant air left in it's wake.

 

 

 

"Hmm. What was that, right there?" my mother thundered, amusement tinging her voice. All of the skin on the front side of my prone form throbbed, harshly chafed. My eyes fiercely stung from the salty residue left on my face and I thrashed in agony. I dragged myself backwards as I panted in hoarse whimpers.

 

 

 

“Mmm, that felt like a tiny, naked body to me.”

 

 

 

There was suddenly light from the opening of my crevice. Dwarfing my body and much too close to possibly avoid was my mother's immense big toe. The monstrous and squat egg-like shape slid forward, sweeping as it searched for me. I managed to make it up onto my knees before the colossal tip of my mother's probing digit impacted against me again. I was driven backwards as I shrieked, punching madly against the plowing hulk.

 

 

 

I was tossed like a rag doll as the gleaming giant lifted slightly and then it slid forward over me. I was grotesquely patted by it, my breath violently expelled as it repeatedly dropped down onto my fragile body, delicately feeling me. It raised slightly, but did not leave. In a stunned and now weakened state I tried to crawl to save myself. My naked back brushed against the dense, slightly sticky ridges hovering low over me as the thunder of feminine laughter filled the air. The menacing ceiling composed of my own mother slowly dropped as I squealed. I was forcefully rolled by the rough, hot tsunami of flesh. I ended up on my back and I tried to scream, but I never had a chance. I saw stars as my mother's lovely big toe buried my quivering body beneath of it. I found myself in a coffin of denim, the front of my body was exposed to a raggedly shaped window of impenetrable, ridged skin.

 

 

 

With a piercing howl I tried to thrash, slapping my impeded hands against the invulnerable horror. "Let me go! Please! Oh God, let me go!" My saliva splattered against the sweltering, merciless wall of flesh and it mixed with my mother's salty funk before dripping back into my gasping, panic-stricken face. Another deep chuckle broke over me like a thunderclap as I writhed in my unnatural tomb.

 

 

 

"What is that? Oh my, whatever it is, it's wiggling!" my mother boomed overhead.

 

 

 

The denim surrounding me creaked alarmingly as the dense flesh shifted, settling down onto me even more. My tiny arms could no longer push back against the colossus and I whimpered as I shook. "Please! Please...don't squish me... under... your... under your-" my words were silenced as my face was smashed against a surface that felt like rubbery, oily brain coral.

 

 

 

"Ooh! That sort of tickles, I like that! Like tiny butterfly kisses on my toe! Mmm."

 

 

 

The hot, rough surface pressed against the front of my heaving body and it slid slightly as it ground into me. My tiny, hard penis was dragged downwards as my mother's tremendous toe pad raked across my panicked, panting features. It was as if I lay pinned beneath the body of some impossibly huge serpent from a B monster movie. I involuntarily squealed as the breath was pushed from my tiny torso, crushed between the crumple of gigantic weave and my mother's humid, hot toe flesh. "Please… mom... please just... let... me go! You don't... want to... Oh no!"

 

 

 

The huge, almost primitive looking ridges of her toe print assaulted the entire front of my tiny body painfully. It felt like some massive street drainage grate or perhaps the ribbed coils of some nautical rope that had been pressed against my skin absolutely everywhere. The denim creaked around me like a freshly collapsed structure as the pressure on my tiny body grew. My guts ached, my face was pressed back against the bones of my skull. In this awful silence I heard something, or perhaps felt it- a chugging throb, like a steam locomotive's metered snort sensed through thick mud. It was my colossal parent's mighty pulse. There was a swishing, rasping sound as the huge toe arched upwards, taking the roof of my hiding spot with it.

 

 

 

I was fully exposed in the blinding light once again and I spasmed in the cold air. The long toenail had levered up and back my brief cloth-tomb, deforming and curling it upwards, revealing me entirely. I uselessly shielded my body with my arms as I coughed. Above me was my mother's mighty, raised big toe. I was utterly dwarfed by the impossibly huge toe pad looming ominously over me.

 

 

 

The great appendages writhed, rubbing against each other with a leathery, menacing rumble. I quickly looked away from the plump hulks reared above me for the sake of my own sanity. I shrieked and scrambled on all fours out from beneath the deadly feminine digits with an adrenaline-fueled haste. My mother's high arched foot lifted into the air, poised with fantastically sized toes pointing gracefully downwards. A confident, feminine chuckle erupted from the sky as the foot lowered, heel still raised in the air. She utterly crushing my pathetic hiding spot beneath the ball of her foot.

 

 

 

The elegant digits slightly raised from the crumpled fabric, like a pack of predatory dinosaurs pausing to rear upward from their meal with mouthfuls of steaming meat. I hazarded a glance into the panic inducing sky, past the beautiful toes which dominating my tiny world. I was gazing straight up my mother's leg. She had become to me one outlandishly distorted instep and tanned leg, like some gleaming dune of flesh with a distant torso and head attached to it only as an afterthought. Her pretty face was smirking as I groveled below her like a worm. I watched as she reached out to steady herself on the armrest of the couch. I moaned, grimacing and turned away, unable to cope with her terrifying form any longer. I instinctively got to my feet and scrambled over a massive snarl of denim, madly looking for another hiding spot.

 

 

 

"Where do you think you're going, hmm?"

 

 

 

I flinched in terror and forced myself to look back. My mother's shapely foot, easily as long as a city bus, moved almost imperceptibly in the air towards me. The bulbous swells of her five toe's massive pads usurped my view. The big toe levered away from it's companions and lowered, authoritatively pressing it's plump girth tip-first into the denim in front of me with a dull tremor. My legs failed in the presence of this panic-inducing spectacle and I pitched over onto my back.

 

 

 

"No more hiding from me, little bug," the blonde titaness thundered petulantly and the colossal digit reinforced her words by tapping ominously against the floor again. My poor, overloaded body trembled as I gazed in awed stupor at the towering, beautiful toe. I realized that one of the great standing boulders of Stonehenge would actually be slim in comparison to it. The other long, shapely digits hung just above the ground in a tidy row. Each intimidating toe in the lineup smaller than the last, like liberated Russian nesting dolls. The digits seemed to be the diameter of drainage pipe designed to be buried beneath a town's streets. Her mighty second toe could entirely fill a full-sized delivery van made for my scale. The long, lovely toes slowly curled, forming an impossible obstacle course of bulbous, stocky flesh and nightmarish crevices.

 

 

 

Things so inconsequential and so pleasantly feminine should never, ever be so alarmingly huge.

 

 

 

I fought my shaking, stubborn muscles and slowly turned away from my mother's gorgeous, unbearable horror in a tottering daze. I stumbled awkwardly to the flowing fold of denim behind me. It was a huge, rounded swell of a wall, too high to easily clamber up normally and in my present state I slid woodenly from it twice. My arms and legs felt heavy and useless. Even through my stupor, I realized that I wasn't going to get away from her.

 

 

 

The distant, high-altitude thunder rolled over me as as a smooth, richly feminine voice. "It must be such a shock to suddenly find yourself so helpless, so limited, hmm? That, however, is no excuse to run from your mother."

 

 

 

I shook my head slowly as I squeezed shut my eyes and grimaced. I whimpered messily, interrupted by my breathing which was only coming in short, ineffectual gasps. An ugly, unrestrained wail left my body. I regarded the crumpled indigo expanse around me blankly as I babbled, "This... it's not... real. It's not..." As fresh tears filled my wide, panicked eyes I shivered, grimly turning to face what I knew was behind me.

 

 

 

My mother's colossal foot had lifted slightly above the ground and it was already gliding slowly towards me. The mighty toes were fanned out and her big toe came into line with where I stood. The beautiful digit gracefully pivoted downward a bit as it sailed over the chaotic ground. The tip of her stocky toe overwhelmed my view as I shrieked. I madly shuffled, my arms outstretched, flinching in retreat away from it like some delirious wild animal confronted with a dozen fiery torches. But, there was no way that I could escape. I was backed against the denim behind me as I whimpered.

 

 

 

The monolithic tip of my mother's toe floated in front of me for a moment. The rest of her long toes were still spread wide and they flexed slowly, swaying their bulbous, beautiful tips. The air swirling around my naked body was noticeably hot, no doubt her body's heat wicking away from her tremendous digits. As I panted, my eyes traced up the impossible, maze-etched swell of her big toe. Just past the terrifying awning of her toenail's underside I could see her face in the distance. She was righteously smug, clearly enjoying this. Her eyes glinted mischievously and that dirty smile returned. My stomach tightened with dread. The amused look on her face would have been much more appropriate for the revealing of a joke's punchline, not for something so sinister as she thundered, "you've been bad, haven't you, little bug?"

 

 

 

"No... no... no. Please... don't... hurt me," I croaked as the vast foot began to move once again.

 

 

 

"You and I are now going to come to an understanding."

 

 

 

My entire naked front-side was violated by the slow impact of my mother's digit, splaying helplessly against it. My pathetic face and chest were stretched, yet simultaneously compressed, my unfortunate malleable flesh stamped by the ridged surface's cruel imprint. I heard deep, delighted laughter as the air was driven from my lungs. The denim behind me gave slightly from the pressure and I was curled back, sinking into it. My quivering feet left the rough, woven flooring as the giant toe obscenely immobilized me with just a graceful, dainty touch. The mighty digit pulled back slightly and for a long moment I hung there from it, my pitiful naked body adhered like a wet fragment of grass. A peal of earsplitting laughter filled the sky as the big toe slowly wiggled in a small circle. I limply slid from the tip of my mother's digit, collapsing to the ground in defeated silence.

 

 

 

"Aww. You poor thing."

 

 

 

A current of displaced air buffeted the ground around me as something colossal moved overhead. With a groan I forced myself to roll over onto my back. In the sky I could see my mother's smiling face as she tucked some of her long hair behind her ear. "I know what you've been up to, bug," her face was suddenly blotted out beyond the hovering row of her giant toes undersides, "you've been engaged in some very disgraceful behaviour lately, haven't you?" Her big toe levered down from it's curling sisters with a tremor and it playfully traced around me in a circle. I shivered as it slowly caressed, crushing the cloth landscape with a deep seething buzz, the sound of her toe print running against the gigantic denim.

 

 

 

The elegant toe paused and my towering mother looked down on me from the sky. Her lips curled, showing her teeth contemptuously and her voice was venomous, "I know that you were dancing- God, it disgusts me to even say it- That you were dancing in a strip club! Even now, I still can't believe it! Well, your stupidity has completely humiliated me, little bug. Do you know how I even found out about this? Hmm? I was told, informed by someone who saw you performing. Would you like to guess who that might have been? I was completely shamed by my closest friend. She's going to tell everyone, I just know it. I'll be ostracized."

 

 

 

My mother's pained look was replaced with a cruel smile and her lovely foot lifted, a humid wall of escaping air prefaced it's lazy flight overhead. Her toes scrunched demonstratively as they descended over me. "Oh God... mom... I'm sorry!" I choked out between my heaving breaths as her fearsome toes swept in close over me, blowing back my hair with a gust of wind, "please! Please, forgive me!" I wailed and struggled up onto my feet. The hulking big toe dipped to deal with me as the rest of her toes curled out of the way. The beautiful toe tossed me harshly to my back with just an effortless touch of it's nail and beyond the gargantuan bronzed leg I could see my mother smirk.

 

 

 

My mother's distant pretty face stared at me and I watched in oddly fascinated horror as those blue eyes guided her colossal big toe. The digit loomed downward over me, a monstrous, stocky pendulum that moved with an unhurried, precise menace. My mother's expression became serious in concentration as the vast tip of her toe came very close. The digit slowly dropped as her other toes fanned widely and then curled. The edge of her toenail pressed lightly into the blue jean material right next to where I lay.

 

 

 

"Oh fuck! Please… I didn't… mean to…" I was utterly dwarfed by her towering big toe and I painfully choked as I held my hands up defensively. The looming toe slid closer to me with a rumble, carefully nuzzling it's slightly long nail against the entire length of my prone body. "Oh God! Please... mom... no!" I quaked in terror and tried to pull away but my mother's giant digit simply adjusted a tiny amount, assertively resting it's curved wall of red nail against me once again.

 

 

 

I shivered, violated by the cold, hard surface pressed against my bare skin. My trembling gaze traced up the vast big toe's impossible presence. Beyond the great towering swell of instep and shin I found that distant face floating in the sky, wreathed in it's swaying, silvery-blonde halo of tresses. My mother's mouth twisted into an amused scoff as she looked down onto my contemptible form. "So, you like to entertain lonely women with your naked body, hmm?" I was delicately rolled across the denim by a tiny nudge of her toenail and I began to crawl away from her in terror.

 

 

 

"Well, to be honest, you don't look like much of an entertainer to me, Mikey," the beautiful foot lifted and it's big toe hovered menacingly over me, casting me in shadow as it pointed straight down. My mother's distant face glided sideways in the sky overhead out from behind her knee to watch her tiny target unhindered. "Where do you think you're crawling off to now, bug?" The digit lowered as I desperately cowered in it's growing shadow.

 

 

 

There was a flash of lustrous red and something hard and cold rolled me onto my back, "Please! Oh, God! You're... going to... crush..." I croaked.

 

 

 

My mother was smiling in cruel satisfaction beyond the great bulk of her hovering toe, "I remember my eyes being level with your Adam's Apple. I made sure to check. Now you look more like a piece of lint to me." I recoiled in terror from the inescapably vast, hovering foot, shuffling awkwardly away on my back using my heels and forearms. A sudden opportunity presented itself in the contorted denim beside me. I desperately rolled underneath a kink in the fabric just tall enough to allow me entrance while laying down.

 

 

 

"I don't think so, Mikey." My teeth rattled in my head as a tremor shook everything. A curving red wall framed by ample ridged flesh had hammered down from above, just outside the low, exposed opening of the cloth hollow.

 

 

 

I flinched and words tumbled from me with a sob-driven, hysterical warble, "Oh no! Please… don't… squish… Don't squish me! Oh God!"

 

 

 

"I told you not to hide from me, didn't I?" The toenail plowed itself against the tiny denim groove. It peeled back my hiding spot with a smooth, slow pivot upwards, efficiently exposing me. The colossal pad of her digit came to earth just in front of me, bulging as it crushed the wrinkle, removing it.

 

 

 

"You're so stubborn, even now."

 

 

 

The beautiful foot above me retracted, lifting slightly into the air and I was confronted by it's row of monstrous, downward hanging appendages. I managed to make it to my feet but that was all I could accomplish. The big toe simply pivoted forward and I was struck by the huge toenail as the mighty digit gently flicked at me. I was bodily tossed and I landed against a stiff whirl of denim. I blinked in a daze, staring up at the impossibly distant ceiling. I realized that I blacked out for just a moment. My hip and thigh ached and the wind had been knocked out of me.

 

 

 

As I lay there groaning, the vast figure of my mother twisted slightly, changing her posture and leaning more heavily onto the colossal arm that she was using to steady her incredible form against the couch. I swallowed hard as her sexy foot floated over me, low in the sky. Her entire down-turned foot rotated slightly, carefully reorienting itself over me. She was methodically lining it up with my prone form.

 

 

 

As I regarded the foreshortened immensity of my mother's presence I realized that I was instinctively holding my breath in wonder. Despite my horror, a part of my psyche had become strangely distracted, demonstrating just how dysfunctional I truly was. I could not help but to savor my view of the bottom of her magnificent foot and that distant face peering down upon me. My cock ached for a release and I immediately despised myself.

 

 

 

My mother's thunderous voice was sweet with condescension, "I actually went and saw you perform myself because I just couldn't believe it. All of those women at that strip joint sure thought that you were an impressive specimen, didn't they? You were apparently good enough to consistently attract a paying crowd. But, I cannot exactly blame them really, can I? You were so tall and handsome, with a great smile and I'm sure they thought that you had a gorgeous body."

 

 

 

I was violently shaking as I sat up, my trembling arms held up uselessly against the looming, beautiful toes hanging in the sky above my tiny form. "Aww. What's wrong? I thought for sure that you would just love some attention from an older woman. I suspect that women like me were your best tippers, weren't they? Hmm, you know what, Mikey? I've always heard that strippers sometimes turn tricks on the side for cash. Did you have any private parties with any of your more fortunate older clients, little bug? I'll bet that you did, didn't you?"

 

 

 

I was stunned, this was what my mother really thought? But, I never did such a thing! Such a situation had never came up, and if it had, I would never have prostituted myself! That was just a stupid, age-old rumour that had always surrounded that profession. Sure, it probably happened, but... I then realized the full weight of what I had unwittingly embarrassed my own mother with in front of her friends. She -and they- thought that I was really a prostitute.

 

 

 

"To say that I am disappointed in you would be a gross understatement. But, if you want to see how furious Mommy really is then just take a good look at yourself. As a son, to me, you were completely irredeemable. As far as I am concerned, that part of your life is over. But, what about now? Where do we go from here? Shouldn't I just flick you out in the backyard? That's where insects belong, you know. Oh, you think that's being too cruel? Well, you are no longer my son- so why should I keep you around at all? What could possibly convince me that you have any worth at all to me as a tiny, pathetic bug, Mikey? "

 

 

 

My towering mother paused, letting her words sink in. I shook my head in shock as I stared, wide-eyed at the vast, beautiful foot poised above me. "Please, mom, I'm not a- I never had sex with any-"

 

 

 

My mother's thunderous tone was disingenuously sweet with a gentle, motherly concern, "You're out of options, Mikey. I can't just drop you off at the strip club because that wouldn't solve anything. I'm sorry, but to be honest with you, I don't think those women at that club will be interested in you ever again. I know this might be painful for you to hear, but to be fair to them, you simply have nothing left to offer. If you don't want to live in the backyard with the rest of the bugs and you can't go back into town, you're stranded. I don't know what you are going to do or how you're going to survive. It would be impossible to earn a living out here at your new size." My mother's distant lips trembled for a moment, a smile or perhaps a thunderous giggle having been successfully withheld.

 

 

 

"Before you even think about it, you simply cannot stay here with me. I've disowned you, remember? You are no longer my son. Besides, what do you think I would want with a naked and unemployed male prostitute not even as tall as the length of my thumbnail? Especially a young man with some... hmm, interesting ideas... about female beauty and especially about their own mother?"

 

 

 

My mother's towering form grinned as she folded the fingers of her free hand against her palm and looked over her nails for a moment, "Oh, I know all about your perverted obsessions. Did you think that I never noticed you sneaking peeks at me?"

 

 

 

She leaned in close over her knee and with a large smile the tip of her hulking digit slowly lowered. I shrilly pleaded with her as my tiny hands grasped the edge of her menacing toenail. My desperate effort was pure futility, very much like seizing the tips of a bull elephant's tusks.

 

 

 

The distant pretty face registered my tiny struggling and lit up with barely concealed delight. Her big toe paused, hanging almost directly above me like a giant, crane-conveyed cauldron from a steel manufacturing plant. She was watching me with an expression of smug satisfaction as I heaved against the edge of her toenail with everything I had, despite how ridiculous my effort to thwart her really was. All I succeeded in doing was to keep a hold on it as the vast muscles of her digit fought to keep it's own meandering bulk still.

 

 

 

"Hold on! I think I might have an idea! It's so obvious, now that I think about it! Hmm. So, what about this for employment? How about a gig that is much more exclusive and privileged than just stripping in a public venue? But, also something a bit more challenging than just fucking older women for money? I really think with this you might have an opportunity laid out before you to move on to bigger and better things, Mikey. You could really use those sex worker skills that you've acquired to the fullest. So, here is what I propose to end this patch of bad luck that you've found yourself in: I honestly think that you'd be perfect as a tiny, soft plaything for me, your own mother. How does that sound to you?"

 

 

 

My vision swam with tears as I took in that cold smile. My mother's distant face lowered, shifting slightly as she peered down on me. For a moment she seemed grotesquely transfigured, her head almost looked to be attached to the far end of her colossal, fun-house nightmare of a toe. My mother, she was intending to-

 

 

 

A thin, tormented wail left my throat as I thrashed, heaving with all of my leverage against the immovable, invulnerable monster calmly dominating me.

 

 

 

"What's wrong? Don't you like that suggestion? Have you finally found out that your own depravity has some limits? Hmm, the expression too little, too late comes to mind. That fits, doesn't it? But, Mikey, wouldn't that also describe you quite accurately as well? Well, except that I don't think you're too small at all, you are the perfect size for me. Besides, if you're going to stay with me then you'll have to earn your keep. It might be touch and go at first, but you'll get used to your new life. Consider this to be your opportunity to make amends." Her thunderous chuckle shivered the sky overhead as she watched me strain against her beautiful digit hanging ominously just above me.

 

 

 

"Oh, you don't approve of being kept by me as a tiny living doll? Why not? Because it isn't fair to you? Well, you've already destroyed any real potential you might have had, all on your own. Or is it that you think it's too kinky? That's rich, coming from someone who flaunts their naked body for pay. I'm lonely, Mikey, way out here in the countryside. I'm in this big empty house all by myself. You could keep me company and well, you're also a teeny-tiny male prostitute, aren't you? What good luck, you're like pornographic take-out! Just think- I would be able to relax whenever I want and enjoy you, right from the palm of my hand, just like reading a book or checking my phone. You could be my little secret and no one else would ever have to know. Isn't that exciting?"

 

 

 

The beautiful, vast foot slowly dropped, millimeter by millimeter, driving her downward pointing big toe onto me. "I wonder if a bug could still be considered a pet? Hmm, from what I recall, the Chinese have a long tradition of keeping crickets as pets. So, yes, I suppose so."

 

 

 

I thought at first my smirking, colossal tormentor was going to capture me beneath the stout pad of her toe, but the vast digit never did pivot upwards as it came on. Instead, to my horror, I had the distinct impression that the edge of my mother's slightly long toenail, which was at least as wide as I was tall, was deliberately and carefully lowering onto the entire length of my helpless body. "Oh God, no! Please... don't... kill me! Please... mom... you're going... to- Mommy!"

 

 

 

"Mikey, was that a chirp? That's the spirit!"

 

 

 

It grew even darker around me as the beautiful digit continued to slowly intrude upon me. With a smirk my mother's toe pushed me down onto my back, my tiny hands still stupidly gripping the edge of her toenail as I strained against the unstoppable, inescapable juggernaut. My trembling arms were decisively knocked aside with a subtle nudge. In desperation I lashed out as best I could but the monstrous digit was completely unaffected by my punches and kicks.

 

 

 

My mother's blue eyes twinkled as her lovely big toe carefully dropped the last few millimeters onto my cringing form. "Aww, such a temper! You know, I still want you in my life, Mikey, but just in a much different role now. Something a bit more... suitable for you, considering what you've done to me."

 

 

 

I was totally overshadowed, dwarfed by the gigantic digit and I had no space or time left in which to flee. The cherry-red edge of my mother's long toenail, which ostensibly weaponized the great fleshy hulk, continued to lower. “I'll do anything you want me to do! Just don't crush me! I'm so sorry! No!” She was smiling as she guided the descent of her beautiful foot from far above me.

 

 

 

“You know, Mikey, it would be easier if you just thought of me as your, well, your everything from now on. Because I am. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to help you with the obvious self-image problem you're probably experiencing right about now. The truth hurts, doesn't it? You really are just a bug, and I like you so much better this way.”

 

 

 

As the cold edge of my mother's bright toenail gently touched me, from shoulder to ankles, my desperate appeals ended in high-pitched, hysterical screams. She pinned me, like an insect against the denim. To her I probably looked like a bit of flesh-colored, quivering chewing gum squished against the end of her toenail.

 

 

 

"I think that we are going to get along so much better from now on, Mikey. Our expectations of each other should be rather minimal, especially with the simple, uncluttered host and parasite relationship that you and I are going to enjoy. You had better not be thinking that such a status is beneath of you, I might not take that very well, my little pet."

 

 

 

As my puny screams reached my mother, she pouted mockingly, clearly enjoying the terror she was so easily causing. "Really, Mikey? You're objections are very hurtful to me. I think that you're acting very selfishly. It's just so typical of you're recent behaviour, isn't it? You know, after everything I've been through recently, it's only natural that I might not respond well to further rejection."

 

 

 

The cruel titaness casually tucked back her hair and then slowly bent at her waist, bringing her shining, amused eyes even closer. "I thought a long time with great delight about how you would perceive me once I got the chance to pluck you out of the normal world. This is my custom made hell, just for you, Mikey. My gigantic body will always be on display for you, just as your tiny body will always be completely accessible to me. I think that this is a very fitting fate for a slutty little exhibitionist like you.”

 

 

 

I tried to struggle, but it was useless. I was merely a bug, pinned with a surgical precision to the floor by my own gloating mother.

 

 

 

“I know exactly what fascinates you about my body, Mikey. Since you're going to always be kept so close to me from now on, I've spent a lot of extra time getting ready, just for this. It's all been very much like getting ready for a wedding, which is kind of funny if you think about it, isn't it? I don't think I've ever exfoliated as much as I have in these last two days. I did an overnight deep moisturizing treatment so that my skin would be nice and soft for you. I even put on some new nail polish that I bought just for this occasion. I picked it out especially for you, little pervert. What do you think?"

 

 

 

I writhed in panic as the brightly painted keratin slowly imposed it's thick, stout edge more forcefully down onto the length of my nude form. "Do you like it? Well, I think it's quite pretty. Though I can tell already that it isn't holding up as well as I would have liked. I might have to change it for something else. Yet another tiny letdown, but I won't let it ruin my day, after all, I'm bigger than that." The lovely toe shifted, her toenail lifted free of my body for just a moment and I could see her checking on me. Then, with a smile, my mother lowered her colossal digit once again.

 

 

 

“Oh no! Please don't- You're going to kill me!” I croaked. I struggled, trying to sit up but the terrible edge of her toenail gently dominated my delicate body once again. My tiny legs were pinned tightly against one another, my breathing was halted as my ribs and collarbone on my left side flexed slightly.

 

 

 

"Hmm. Tell me, bug, were your sexual... ahem... services expensive, you know, before? Because with everything that has occurred this afternoon, I think that from now on you won't be able to charge very much at all. Well, I suppose I could barter using popcorn, or pieces of breakfast cereal, if that's fine with you? That's of course after you have earned your room and board every day." My vertebrae popped like a skillfully executed chiropractic adjustment and I shuddered with a wheeze. I was being nonchalantly crucified and by such an outlandish, normally trivial thing.

 

 

 

"You've really disappointed me, Mikey, with your attitude towards all of this. I'm not going to take no for an answer. It's so simple- your services are at a steep and permanent discount and with all of this free time, I'm in the market for some... adult leisure. Well then, it's been quite a momentous day for you so far, full of ups and downs. You have gone from being disowned by your own mother to scoring the job of a lifetime with your biggest client yet, by far."

 

 

 

My free arm clawed spasmodically and slipped into the incredibly humid, unvarnished crevice of the bottom side of my mother's toenail. My tiny raking fingertips inadvertently made contact with smooth, hot flesh that seemed ever so slightly yielding and soft. Musical, feminine thunder rolled over me as she giggled, tickled by my desperate grasping.

 

 

 

"You better be careful about tickling me underneath of there, Mikey. I might decide that I want to experience more of that. Your entire tiny body would fit under there, you know. Mmm, I like the idea of that." My head, trapped by my unfortunately pinned neck, stared up the great bowed length of crimson toenail in terror as I hastily withdrew my arm. I could see those distant blue eyes just peeking over the vast swell of her immense knee.

 

 

 

I grew still, my tiny body strained to it's limits by the relentless power being delicately exerted upon me. The world was apparently not at all like it had ever been portrayed to me. There really was magic and everything else which that fact implied: dark secrets, hidden worlds and of course, terrible monsters. I had riled one of these concealed, mythic beings with my careless, selfish choices. I had inadvertently angered a gigantic goddess. The colossal pretty toe which currently ruled my existence grew heavier as even more pressure was mercilessly applied.

 

 

 

My failed screams exited my throat as nearly breathless, ragged whistling while my tiny form was driven down into the denim by my mother's digit. My frantic eyes took in the impossible extent of bulging, ridged flesh and gleaming nail that I was pinned beneath like a tortured bug. The other gigantic digits fanned out as the plump colossus drove me downward. I knew that at any moment my ribs would collapse and with an inaudible crunch I would die. I was still as my pulse hammered through my face. My nerve endings screamed in response to the impossible bright red thing driven against me and I could do nothing at all about any of it. I belonged to her now and if she wanted to effortlessly drive her toenail through my entire fragile body to end my life that was simply her divine prerogative.

 

 

 

Suddenly my fearsome assailant lifted free, hovering above me attentively as I painfully gulped in air. The giant big toe reminded me of a thug from a gangster movie, looming over a beaten and bloodied victim, coldly waiting on it's employer's next brutal command. I curled into a fetal position, moaning in agony as my mother's eyes studied me.

 

 

 

"Hmm." Her mighty toe swung down again directly over me, threatening to crush my helpless body once again. I wordlessly groaned in fear as the edge of her toenail gently prodded at my tiny form. I wheezed as the air was repeatedly forced from my lungs as it rolled me back and forth, callously inspecting me. "Just look at you. Your arms and legs remind me of tiny folding toothpicks. I'm not very confident that any of the other equipment you've got is going to impress me either. Honestly, I think you look more like a bug than a stud, Mikey," my mother murmured thunderously. She playfully sent my limp form rolling with another tiny movement. "However, Mommy is so very, very lonely," she laughed softly with a regal note of pleasure as her ominous big toe reared up, blocking out her gloating features and covering me in it's thick shadow, "so you're going to entertain me now."

 

 

 

The well-kept monster lowered onto my tiny form, just barely touching me yet trapping my entire naked body beneath it's humongous pad. I shivered and shook, screaming shrilly as I struggled, driving my own pitiful physique against the vast curvature of her ridged flesh in a futile and unhinged bid to escape.

 

 

 

"Oh my! Mmmm," my mother purred deafeningly as I squirmed, "maybe I was wrong about you? I just love your little caresses! You know, I have very sensitive toes, Mikey, fingers too. Especially after that overnight treatment. They're going to be ideal for fully appreciating the new you."

 

 

 

The colossal toe slowly lifted up from me and her raised foot retracted for a moment. My tormentor gazed happily at my frantically gasping and reddened nudity. "You're just the perfect little souvenir for me, Mikey. From now on, whenever I'm playing with you I will be reminded of this recent bittersweet chapter in my life. Back when I had a cheating husband… and a shameful son."

 

 

 

My tear clouded eyes traced up the towering shapes of tanned skin and cloth in stunned disbelief. My mother's face wore a relaxed, confident smile as she looked me over from the living room's distant heavens, like she was deciding on hand-crafted chocolates in some expensive boutique.

 

 

 

The shapely, high arched foot pivoted as my cheerful mother brought her gigantic digits to bear over me again like a poising dancer. Her intimidating big toe flexed straight down and it slowly descended. For a moment I thought that she was going to simply crush me like a bug beneath her pretty digit. The slightly long toenail's broad edge plunged heavily into the denim floor in front of me, as if preparing the way for the rounded, fleshy tip that followed it a nanosecond later.

 

 

 

My limp body rolled as the denim beneath me was tugged downward into a depression around my mother's ponderous toe. I came to a stop almost against her digit, like some exhausted sacrifice laid out in preparation for slaughter beneath some immense, sacred statue. The titanic, gently bowed toenail set into the unabashedly stocky colossus was close enough for me to reach out and touch. I sniffled wetly and a painful whimper escaped my tightly constricted throat as I got to my knees.

 

 

 

"It took me a while to decide what to do with you. But I realized that having you here with me is the best course of action. It's Mommy's only option, really."

 

 

 

The frightening digit rumbled against the denim as it shifted forward, sending heavy vibrations through my knees and into my bones as I cried out. Long indigo fibers of cotton denim dust floated upwards from the long toenail's sliding, scraping, sunken edge and stuck to my naked skin. My cock oscillated almost painfully like a spring doorstop due to the shuddering tremors, forcing me to stifle it with one hand. "I'm afraid that I just cannot let you go out into the world on your own again. You've proven to me that you possess very poor judgment."

 

 

 

I froze in fear as the huge, garishly painted toenail's surface pressed against my huddled form. I was moved backwards by it slightly as the denim creaked loudly, a wrinkle of it formed, stiffly welling up over my knees. "Please don't... hurt... please... mom..." I choked out between my panicked breaths. I held still, naked and shivering, cowering against the smooth, red varnished surface, very afraid to provoke my mother.

 

 

 

That wasn't entirely correct. To me, because of my mother's toes overwhelming size in comparison to my pitiful form, they had themselves almost taken on the spark of individuality and autonomy in my mind. I felt like an elephant, a tiger, or perhaps some long extinct giant creature was pressed against my frail body and simply had not decided to attack yet, perhaps preferring to play with it's prey before the kill. Despite this strange yet instinctive illusion I held to, my immense mother's toenail seemed to be more like the brightly painted hull of some sort of a sport watercraft than an actual organic structure.

 

 

 

"You obviously had no self control on your own," the gorgeous big toe shifted, rearing up slightly and I was tossed violently onto my back, "I suppose that I will simply have to take control of you then, hmm?" my mother thundered overhead. The impossible digit came to rest again, still tip first against the floor, towering over me like a leering bully as her other long, flawless toes fanned outwards.

 

 

 

"Yes, I think that you'll be a nice little distraction."

 

 

 

"No!" I protested with a whine, "please... I... don't..."

 

 

 

I crawled to my mother's digit and with a terrified, wincing reverence I pressed my shaking hands to the faintly streaked, dust strewn red polish. The mammoth big toe subtly shifted, creating ominously deep creaking noises against the compressed fabric. I followed her convex toenail upward with my eyes in awestruck fear. I was wheezing as I solemnly took in the great, curb-like cuticle that framed the top of the nail. It reminded me of some sort of a strangely bulging, out of reach lintel, sculpted above a monumentally tall medieval arched door. Not far beyond this demarcation was the dizzying chaos of her vast body, towering shapes made of gleaming skin, capped by a far-flung and thoroughly insignificant face. My mother was watching me, pleased or perhaps enchanted to gaze down on my pathetic, naked form groveling at the brutal altar of one of her toes.

 

 

 

"What did... did you... do... to... me?" I gasped, "How did... you... shrink... me? How... did you... shrink..." I was shaking disjointedly, the trauma of my predicament had become too much for me to handle. I had not been breathing properly for a long time and I was now doing little more than gulping the air. I felt a numb tingling in my face which was growing quickly. I wondered if I was going to pass out at any moment. A sickly chill shot through me as my vision became slightly opaqued by the dark, swirling clouds of oxygen deprivation, "Please... help me..." I whispered as I became suddenly lightheaded. My leaden arms fell limply away from the satiny, curved wall of enamel and I slumped face first against my tormentor's monumental toenail. I left a slobbering arc of saliva as I slid sideways across it until my stunned face met a slightly raised imperfection in the polish to rest against. I concentrated on breathing and for the moment I could only blink stupidly, my body supported precariously against the cool surface on my crumpled knees.

 

 

 

"You're going to make such a wonderful toy."

 

 

 

I slowly grimaced and tried desperately to focus my eyes, "oh God... please... no..."

 

 

 

"You should think of your fate as a sort of trade that you have arranged, though it wasn't a very fair trade for me at all, hmm? My relations with my lifelong friends most likely irreparably damaged? Of course, my reputation among my peers will also be in jeopardy if they ever get wind of your misdeeds. Just what could you have ever done to fix this, Mikey? Hmm? Nothing at all? That wasn't even a consideration for you, right? Well, I had to salvage something out of this debacle. So, I've decided, in return I will get you, at just an inch tall- to do with as I please."

 

 

 

The plump behemoth shifted, and I slid away from it, falling limply to the denim on my side. A thunderous chuckle split the air far above me as I blinked helplessly. My mother's mighty big toe moved slightly and her toenail pressed against me. I was slowly driven across the rough denim, accompanied by a deep rumble, the sound of the massive digit skimming it's way effortlessly across the fabric. I limply conformed around the wide tip of her vertical, plowing nail like a discarded, wet towel.

 

 

 

"Well, you're just perfect as a toy for me, aren't you? In every way imaginable." The big toe reared upwards playfully and my naked body was launched, helplessly tumbling away. I rolled across the harsh cloth surface and when I came to a stop I lay there, my hitching breath still preventing any meaningful action. I was utterly helpless.

 

 

 

The frightening toes flexed up as the beautiful foot raised slightly, reaching for me. My mother seemed contemplative as her plump big toe lowered. I stared at the creamy, plump pillows of soft flesh that formed on her vast sole as her digit slowly blotted out this frightening yet wonderful vista. "It's almost as if you were made to be my plaything and we've just been biding our time, waiting for today." She daintily touched me with her toe, the cumbersome ridged flesh overwhelmed my helpless body and trapped me like an insect. "Don't you agree, my little bug?"

 

 

 

My mother's hot, corrugated toe flesh grotesquely dominated me, lightly keeping me in place against the stiff landscape as I helplessly quivered. I realized that with each physical contact I had with her vast anatomy I was becoming thinly coated in something... something truly awful. My skin and hair were suffocating in a pasty, fragrant substance, something like fresh cottage cheese whisked into lard. It was the natural emanations from her enormous, grooved flesh. I shook in revulsion, suddenly breaking free from my distressed fog. I thrashed, wailing beneath the vast, humid tip of her digit and my tiny movements induced a throaty giggle from her.

 

 

 

My cruel mother savored my useless struggles for just a moment longer beneath her big toe before she relented. I struggled free with a shout, staggering up onto my feet as the colossal toe pad pivoted upward away from me with a gust of chasing wind. Beyond my mother's toes I could see her grinning down on me. "You're so very tiny now, aren't you?" She smirked mockingly and those hovering digits spreading wide with an unmistakable purpose, "Mmm, just so unbelievably delicate and the best part? The best part is that now you're all mine." I could only hoarsely scream as the beautiful giantess pursed her lips in concentration, leaning in closer as she looked down on me.

 

 

 

I was paralysed with terror and I stood rigidly rooted to the spot, bellowing incoherently as my mother's shapely, colossal toes carefully reached for me. "Mmm. Are those adorable little squeaks for me, Mikey? For mommy?"

 

 

 

Ridged, monstrous curves of glittering flesh cut off my view of anything else above me. "Mmm, now where is that precious little... ah, there it is!" My tiny head and shoulders were caught between her delicately pinching big toe and second toe. My pitiful upper body was painfully overwhelmed, pressed and hopelessly trapped in the dense, colossal pillows of my mother's humid toe flesh. I was gurgling, unable to scream, almost crushed between the barely yielding fragrant and ridged walls. My legs gave out and I dangled twitching just above the outlandish floor. My entire body was nothing more than a tiny, fragile sliver which hung from between her beautiful, carefully clasped digits.

 

 

 

"Mmm. That's really nice," my mother cooed, "isn't it, Mikey? I think I'm going to just keep you naked from now on."

 

 

 

My tiny feet skidded across the huge denim as the cruel goddess drew me backward, towards her. With a graceful motion I was carefully laid down and released by the vast toes. My mother smiled happily as her big toe vacillated above me, "Really, I just can't resist," the toe's huge tip covered me as it lowered, seeking to touch me, "but that's no surprise, Mikey, I made your body tiny specifically for touching, after all."

 

 

 

"Oh God... no. Please..." I shrieked as I impotently shielded my head with my arms from the impending ridged, humid juggernaut.

 

 

 

"Honestly, you don't really mind, do you, my little bug? You think my feet are beautiful." The rounded, leathery tip of the towering digit pushed the air from my lungs as it came on like a slightly conscientious battering ram. My upper body was gently pressed into the rough floor as my tiny legs lashed spasmodically beyond her punishing, grievous flesh.

 

 

 

I was released after a long moment and the beautiful digits hovered in front of me as I gasped, embedded in the thick denim. Her toes fanned out prettily before scrunching with enough effortless force to most likely crumple a car. "You can look at my pretty hands and feet whenever you want, and as long as you want. But why just look, Mikey, when you can fully experience, hmm?"

 

 

 

My amused mother played with my pathetic body like a piece of lint. She carefully prodded me across the denim in a little circle with graceful touches of her exquisite digit. There was no way that I could escape the terrifying, unintentionally brutal collisions of her powerful big toe. I knew better than to raise my arms to pointlessly attempt to thwart her. My tiny limbs would have been effortlessly broken or simply torn off against the dense, unstoppable behemoth that battered me.

 

 

 

I forced myself to remain limp and compliant, despite my terror and the ferocious assault that I was made to endure. I caught glimpses of my mother's delighted and gloating face between the predatory impositions and impacts of her mighty toe. The monstrous digit abandoned playing with my helpless body after a bit and it lowered, lightly covering me.

 

 

 

"Now, I know you're not going to like this critique, Mikey, but you really feel more like a bit of goose down from one of my pillows than a person," the colossal ridged pad glided slowly across my quaking nudity, "mommy certainly doesn't have any calluses, so I think that the problem is simply surface area. I suppose I'm now the absolute definition of surface area to you, aren't I? But sadly, you just don't have nearly enough of that quality. Hmm, perhaps there is a clever solution to make you much more... satisfying for me. You want to satisfy me, don't you, Mikey? Well, I know just the thing."

 

 

 

My mother began to delicately move her big toe back and forth over me, in a depraved, aggressive caress. She carefully experimented until she found just the right motion and pressure to cruelly roll my vulnerable, naked body up and down beneath the great length of her plump toe pad like a worm. "There you are! Mmm, you feel just wonderful to me, like my very own personal massage... hmm, bead? Yes, I think "bead" is an accurate description, since you are so tiny now."

 

 

 

All of my skin was punished and defiled. My bones creaked. My tendons were strained. The pathetic musculature that clad my miniature skeleton was deeply compressed, brutally kneaded against the fragile yet resilient structure of my own body. The only thing I could taste was the salty, doughy, metallic funk of my own mother's gargantuan toe. The only things I could hear were the ominous squeaks, the delicate, sickening pops of my ever revolving body. A deep bass rumble of the mighty toe's movement. A pleased, diabolical humming from an unnaturally deep and loud feminine voice.

 

 

 

It was only a moment before I had been pushed to the edge of unconsciousness. Even though my mother's colossal toe would lift from me occasionally to reposition itself for another agonizing caress, I was completely incapable of movement. Escaping this immense woman's effortless play was impossible for me. "Mommy's little toe bead. Mmm," she purred, as my view of her face was once again blotted out by the inevitable lowering of her smothering, hot toe pad. My torture seemed to never end.

 

 

 

After almost ten minutes of this uncomplicated horror, the digit finally lifted away from me. My mother's splendid foot hung in the air for a moment as the pleased goddess looked over my exhausted, panting body. "It doesn't even need to be said, but... All of those women at that club were right about you." The huge big toe came back down and with a single, careful touch the edge of it's toenail effortlessly rolled me onto my back. "I am in complete agreement with them. You have a nice body, Mikey. Very pleasant."

 

 

 

My mother's beautiful big toe hovered there ominously, dwarfing my tiny form as it floated just in front of me. It's ponderous size like some sort of a research submarine hanging from it's launch crane. "You like being Mommy's toe toy, don't you? Hmm?" The bulging wall of flesh lowered as I whimpered and it stroked slowly down the length of my tiny body. I trembled, groaning as the prehistoric looking ridges galled my delicate skin, "why don't you show me?" The big toe lowered back down right next to me with a dull tremor, content to merely loom imperiously against the floor again in an unmoving stab.

 

 

 

I sat up painfully and tried to catch my breath. I forced myself to take in the row of long toes slowly wiggling from the stout anchor point of my mother's vertically resting big toe. I knew that I could not escape her and I did not want to look up at her gloating in the sky overhead. I slowly made my way back to the impossible toe and desperately clung to the rippled polish, "please," I begged the stout, ovoid tower, "I don't... want to... be... your..." I shut my eyes tightly and pressed my cheek against the cool, smooth wall of my mother's vertically resting toenail as a violent sob shuddered through my body, "I don't... want... I'm so... sorry... please..."

 

 

 

I crawled on my knees almost completely blinded by my tears. I slowly made my way around the curved perimeter of my mother's perfect toenail until I confronted the great, tanned swell of flesh which framed it in, "Mommy," I whispered hoarsely, placing one hand cautiously to her taut, well hydrated skin. This was eerily evocative of the time I touched a surfaced whale off of the coast during a family vacation, "please..." I planted an apologetic kiss onto the dense, fragrant surface, "make... me big... again," I desperately pressed my chest and face to her hot skin as I dragged myself upwards onto my feet. I clung pitifully to the domineering, feminine edifice that grotesquely dwarfed me like I was some sort of a fragile parasite, "please, mom," I could feel her pulse pounding into my naked skin on the front of my body and I shuddered as my salt-bathed cock grew hard, pressing into the smelly valley between two ridges "I'm so tiny."

 

 

 

Hundreds of feet above me I could see her gloating expression as she savored my worshipful, huddled form. I stretched my arms upwards and pleadingly ran my hands across the thick curve of flesh, my tiny fingers gently raking across the endless swirling ridges. The vast big toe twitched all at once and I recoiled in fright. The massive digit shifted and I was instantly confronted by the cherry-red convexity of my mother's nail. The cool surface pressed into me and I was tossed effortlessly backwards with a slow, delicate flick. I landed and tumbled, ending up on my back. "Oops!" My mother gasped and then laughed, "that tickled!" Her long, fantastical toes writhed for a moment and then scrunched with a horrible sound, like some huge and wet, leather clad hand forming a fist. I gazed through my hopeless tears up at the colossus which dominated the sky above me.

 

 

 

My mother gracefully retracted her foot with a tremor. She bent down, her hands on her knees, and her blonde hair, head and chest grew much larger as they filled the sky overhead. She grinned down at me and spoke, her voice was deep and loud. A moment later the breath from my skyscraper sized mother filled my cloth valley. My naked skin was warmed by the hot, exhaled air which was tinged with the scent of her mouth, of her body.

 

 

 

"Sorry, little bug, I hope that didn't hurt too much."

 

 

 

I got to my feet as I gazed up at my mother's impossible size. I knew I was close to passing out from shock. I was ferociously aroused, yet trembling in absolute terror. My nervous system was close to mercifully shutting down. I yelled up at her in a weak voice, hoping she could hear me.

 

 

 

“What... What did you do to me!!? Please help me!”

 

 

 

My mother simply smiled, a suppressed laugh shook her impossibly large breasts. Suddenly, the vast tower of her form began to move all at once with a fluid grace. My mother bent at the knees as she lowered into a squat. A warm wind cast off my mother's moving body filled my strange prison and her subtle scent was suddenly everywhere. Beyond the wall of my cloth fortress the twin monumental ankles pivoted upwards. Her tanned, veined insteps elevated like vine festooned watchtowers as the titaness balanced on the balls of her feet. Her endless shins lowered, thrusting outward, sweeping quickly over my little crater of discarded clothes.

 

 

 

I clutched my hands to the sides of my head and went to my knees. My mother's distant face was grinning as she gazed down upon me, her beautiful body distorting outlandishly as she descended. Her enormous crotch grew huge as it lowered in the sky directly overhead. The fabric of her tight shorts creaked ominously as it tightened, revealing an unmistakable bulge, the hill-like camel toe of her hidden sex.

 

 

 

My impossible mother's endless shins finally hung motionless in the air above me, like menacing, alien battleships floating above a conquered town. I was already trapped and helpless within the confining walls of my crumpled clothing, but now I was assaulted by the sudden dread of utter domination. I felt as if I had just been claimed completely by my mother with her simple action of squatting down above me.

 

 

 

It was a wonder that I did not faint as all of those mundane, distant features which composed this all-too-familiar being cruelly overwhelmed my senses. But, I had no time to take in this alarming sight. A vast hand gracefully detached itself from the top of one of her knees where it had been resting like some tired lioness and it lowered into my ring of clothes. I was screaming harshly at the sheer size of her beautifully manicured fingertips as they sought my tiny body. A gentle wind preceded this small piece of her, air displaced by the enormity of my mother's descending hand. The closer her colossal fingers drew to me the louder and more shrill my screams became.

 

 

 

I instinctively covered my crotch with my hands and I immediately knew that she had caught the motion, that she understood what I had just done. An easy, thunderous laugh shivered the air around me and she smiled. Her huge index finger approached me and I tried to run. My mother was grinning in anticipation as her digit lazily chased me like I was some sort of a bug found beneath an upended log. I could not escape her digit, I was too tiny and moved too slowly across the rough, crumpled fabric landscape. She only had to make the smallest of adjustments to keep her looming fingertip on target.

 

 

 

A thunderous laugh split the air and my mother's beautiful hand hesitated. "This is so much fun, isn't it, Mikey? But, maybe I'm not being entirely fair since you're so tiny compared to me? You are awfully slow. I think that you just need a smaller giant lady chasing you, that's all."

 

 

 

The beautiful, distant face that crowned the squatting mountain of my mother's form giggled as her hand transformed into an inverted victory sign. Her hand lowered to my jumbled clothes, her index and middle fingers touched down, balanced on the tips of her elegant fingernails.

 

 

 

"Meet Mommy's little friend, Legs," my hair stood on end as my mother's index and middle fingers each bent, one at a time, and then posed like a beauty pageant contestant, pantomiming long, feminine legs, "she likes playing with poor tiny people. Likes to herd them with her feet and then..." The blonde colossus held her other hand to the side of her mouth, mockingly shielding her whispered words to me from 'Legs'. "Well, I think she has a kink, Mikey. She's a bit of a domme, so you had better be careful!"

 

 

 

My mother's ferocious laughter shivered the air around me and her mere fifty foot tall make-believe giantess began to stomp towards me on surreal red heels.

 

 

 

I was too slow, even in comparison to my mother's humiliating "small" marauding "giantess". I soon found myself beneath her towering fingers. Her fingertips cruelly dominated me, forcefully directing my manic retreat with playful "kicks" and nudges of her merciless, granite-like nails.

 

 

 

I was herded into a tall roll of cloth that I couldn't surmount. I was trapped. My mother's hand transformed, her middle finger folding away, yet her index finger still confronted me. The long, red fingernail was almost as tall as I was and swiftly blocked any escape. My awful, impossible fate was inexorably collapsing into place in front of my own eyes. My cruel mother would soon lay claim to me, to keep me as her toy. I went to my knees, hugging myself tightly as panicked, ragged sounds escaped my painfully tightened throat.

 

 

 

My mother's frightening fingertip drew near, gently nudging me with it's cold, hard nail. I was roughly knocked into the pants fabric onto my back. The wind had almost been knocked from me and I wondered if with her merest touch she had just bruised my chest. She slightly withdrew her hand and gazed down at me again with a growing delight.

 

 

 

I pulled my arms and legs in to me protectively in a fetal position and lay there wailing. She lowered her face a bit towards me overhead and her mouth opened in astonishment. My tiny vocalizations must have reached her ears for a vast, unabashed smile was slowly coming to her beautiful face. Her hand was back and it smoothly cut through the air, lowering over me. She gracefully wiggled her colossal fingers and I began to shriek in absolute panic. A deafening, low-pitched giggle split the air above me. Her hand slowed and her index finger unfolded and came down. Beyond her finger I could see her face, her tongue lightly touched her top front teeth hungrily as her eyes twinkled. My terror was an irresistible attraction to her, and as I watched as she drank it in.

 

 

 

My mother bit her full bottom lip gently right before her fingertip covered me in it's shadow. The tip of her finger dipped so that it hovered vertically directly above me. I was reminded of some nightmarish piece of heavy construction equipment as the thick, wide tip of the cold fingernail touched my arm. She grinned widely as her fingernail interposed itself upon me roughly. I tried to fight this smiling, towering titaness but I had no chance at all against her casual touch, no opportunity to protect myself against the smallest of her movements. Her nail-tip delicately pried open my toothpick-like arms and legs, breaking the tight ball I had curled into.

 

 

 

As I tried to curl into a ball once again, my mother's fingernail gently collided with me. She nudged my tiny body and roughly rolled me across my warm clothing. The colossal fingertip suddenly lowered directly over me and I froze as my heart jumped into my throat. I could hear her shorts stretch in protest against some sort of movement. In the sky overhead my mother's cheerful face floated sideways into view, peering at me beneath her fingertip. She was smiling happily down at me and I heard a delighted giggle.

 

 

 

"Don't worry, Mikey. Mommy won't squish you. I just want to... touch you." My mother grinned as she winked at me.

 

 

 

With one graceful, gentle motion I was buried beneath the monstrous, fleshy pad of her fingertip. My entire front side was pressed against the hot, ridged and unyielding flesh. My tiny head ended up underneath her fingernail and my face was smashed into the tiny juncture where her flesh was overshot by the horn-like underside of her sport-length fingernail.

 

 

 

"Mmm. That's nice."

 

 

 

The immense being continued to smash me into the stiff gigantic denim floor, my tiny limbs were entirely immobilized. My senses were overloaded, my bones popping loudly in my ears as the air was pushed forcibly from my lungs. I knew this was the end as the vast, ridged flesh settled downwards further. I made a choking, rasping sound as my vulnerable head was driven away from my shoulders by the immovable, hot flesh, flattening my tiny neck and straining chest. My mother was going to kill me just like a bug. My tiny head… The pressure was going to… She was going to press a little bit more and my head… My head was going to come off! Before I knew what was happening I spasmed and came, my semen lost in the ridges of my mother's fingerprint.

 

 

 

Suddenly, the gargantuan finger lifted up and away. I dimly watched as my mother retrieved her hand and brought it to her face. She had felt me spasm! What punishment would she have doled out if I was normal size and had committed such an act? But now… My scalp tingled in panic and I felt like I was falling into an endless pit of despair as I struggled to breathe. In the sky above me the omnipotent, blonde titaness looked over the tip of her index finger. She glanced down at me, laughing thunderously as she rubbed her finger against her thumb, spreading my tiny, inconsequential mess into nothing.

 

 

 

"Goodness! You had better come up here with me, Mike. I want to talk to you."

 

 

 

With a large smile my mother bent even lower at the waist, reaching for me. Her tight shorts groaned as the folded tanned legs pivoted in the sky, spreading wider. I still lay despondent and twitching in the same depression her gigantic fingerprint had pressed me into a moment ago. I was powerless to stop my enormous mother whose mere digits utterly dwarfed me. Her hand descended between the golden summits of her legs for me, poised in a pinch. The distant beautiful face smiled confidently and there was nothing left in my stomach to eject at the sight of it all.

 

 

 

My incredible mother daintily pinched my tiny, limp and trembling form between her monstrous thumb and forefinger. The act itself while performed with the utmost of gentleness was brutal to my tiny body. The massive, rough flesh of her index fingertip collided with me and it's sheer mass plowed me away from it. I was slammed against my mother's encroaching thumb tip. A moment later the two dense fingertip pads had carefully captured me, from my tiny feet all the way up to my neck. Her searingly hot skin mercilessly compressed and overwhelmed my pitiful body. My unprotected stomach below my ribs gave way against the ridged bulge's insistent press. I thought for a moment that I might be forced to evacuate my bowels as my tiny torso was firmly constricted from all directions. I realized I had not even enjoyed the few breaths she had allowed me before she had gathered me up between her huge fingertips.

 

 

 

I flew upwards, between my mother's vast, tightly compressed calves. My neck was thrown back, my head came to rest against the thick flesh behind me, couched there against the G forces assaulting my tiny form. The hand which delicately held me hesitated in front of the broad landscape of her crotch. The beautiful colossus was still squatting as I hung there, floating in stunned awe close to the immense, cloth-obscured bulge of her mons. A deafening, deeply pitched giggle erupted from above me.

 

 

 

I frowned as I recoiled. As I hovered there, trapped in the hell of my own mother's gigantic flesh... there was something... It was an unmistakable, instinctively known thing... a fresh, feminine, musky scent. That just couldn't be, I thought to myself, oh God, no! I wordlessly moaned in horror and I tried to struggle, but to no avail. My mother's intentionally delicate pinch was like being trapped up to my neck in hot, thick rubber backed by walls of granite.

 

 

 

Beyond the fantastical cloth landscapes of crotch, stomach and distant, vast breasts her lovely face hovered like a golden mirage. My mother's expression was a mixture of both fascination and pity as she gazed down on my trapped form. She had hesitated because she was obviously completely taken aback, candidly reacting to having my tiny body finally trapped between her fingers. My head lolled from side to side as the immense hand tilted a bit so her distant face could appraise me.

 

 

 

"Poor Mikey! You're just so tiny! Is that your cute little head sticking out? It is! Oh, I can barely even feel you at all between my fingers."

 

 

 

My lovely mother tucked some of her hair behind her ear and I watched in helpless horror as her mouth curled into an amused smirk. "There is that pesky surface area problem again, getting in the way of my satisfaction. I want to really feel you, Mikey, but your just a little wisp between my fingers." The thumb and index fingertips which held me subtly shifted, momentarily forcing the air from my lungs. "Well, let's just see if I can do something about that, shall we?" My mother's smile grew into a frightening grin causing the color to drain from my face. Her beautiful fingertips slid experimentally past one another, softly and slowly rolling my powerless, naked body like a slender bit of string between them a single revolution.

 

 

 

The torture stopped immediately and I panted as tears freely flowed down my red face. I gazed at my mother's distant cheerful countenance and silently begged for her to release me from the vast, sweltering crevice of her pinch. I watched as she cooed thunderously and that dirty, horrible smile crossed her face.

 

 

 

"Mmm, that was really very nice, Mikey. That was… well… It's suddenly warm in here, isn't it?" A thunderous chuckle caused my ears to ring momentarily.

 

 

 

I was ripped out of my horrified trance as the hillside composed of tight shorts loudly complained against a lateral movement of my mother's tanned thighs. I blinked stupidly as I took in the sight of her other monstrous hand descending over me. It stopped short of overtaking me, instead her frightening, gargantuan fingers relaxed onto her crotch. The beautiful digits hung in a row like fallen tree trunks leaning against the rounded wall of a desert ravine. I was stunned by the scale and sight of my colossal mother's digits all laid out peacefully directly in front of me. "Poor Mikey." As I watched, three of her fingers curled slightly as her index finger took the lead. "You're just a tiny, vulnerable bug now. Mmm." My mother's index fingertip skimmed softly across the denim cloaked bulge before landing onto what could only be her gigantic, hidden clitoris.

 

 

 

I began to babble in shock as her beautiful fingertip bulged, pressing assertively against the denim. "What are you… Why are… Please… Please don't…" I couldn't look away. The thumb and index finger holding me suddenly drove the air from my lungs and tilted up slightly as she looked at me.

 

 

 

"Mmm, my very own tiny massage bead," the digit on the great wall of her crotch pressed in and dragged itself back in a stroke, "although... I guess you could say that you're an additional massage bead for me, Mikey. There's, well, another one, the true one, my... ahem, my 'button'." The fingertip lightly tapped what lay hidden beneath of it.

 

 

 

"Even though I can't really say for sure, I'd swear that you look shocked. Are you a tiny hypocrite as well as an utter failure? You've had your fun, right? Went and popped your cork all over one of my fingertips. Well, if you thought this was all done just to punish you, then you're truly self-absorbed. You had better get over yourself, because you obviously do not understand the definition of the word 'toy'. You belong to me now."

 

 

 

The thumb and index finger which were pinching me glided much closer to her kneading fingertip. I hung there, my face red from my fruitless struggling as I grimaced. The monumental index finger arched upwards away from the enormous swell of denim. "You know what, Mikey? I want to see something. Don't be scared, my tiny bug." The cruel digits imprisoning me swept forward and the white cloth cliff filled my vision. The lengths of her thumbnail and index fingernail projecting out from her flesh in a crooked 'V' softly collided with the cliff's face. I sucked in the musk-tinged air and choked for a second before letting loose a panicked howl. The blunt wedge of her nail tips sunk a surprising amount into the resilient surface as she plowed my tiny form even closer. I was awash in humid, fragrant air which sickened me as the great swath of white denim bulged, almost touching me. The colossal pinching finger pads trapping my pitiful naked form hardened like iron against this infinitesimal pressure and my scream was cut off.

 

 

 

My mother's pinched fingertips which held me slowly moved in a tight circle as she briefly ran her nail tips across her colossal, hidden anatomy. As the fingertips holding me pulled away from her crotch, her iron-like grip softened. "Yes, I think that you're about the same size as my button." I filled my suddenly unhindered lungs and shrieked, then again and again. The skyscraper-sized woman listened to my tiny, hysterical screams for a moment. A large grin spread across her face as she gazed down on me and this callous reaction to my trauma caused my screams to escalate with a panic-stricken intensity.

 

 

 

My mother's other hand, which had been hanging unused across an impossible thigh, dropped lazily over me. Her gigantic index finger gracefully extended and the pad of her fingertip silenced me with a simple, enormous touch. My tiny trapped skull threatened to pop, suddenly crushed beneath this ridged, dense wall of hot flesh. The fingertip lifted and her flawless nail menaced my tiny face with it's edge as she smiled down on me, "Mmm," the goddess thundered, "I'd like to feel you a little bit more. You don't mind too much, do you? Just humor me for a moment, Mikey, okay?" The digit retracted and I watched as it sought out her obscured clitoris once again.

 

 

 

As my mother pet herself, the fingertips holding me began to slide past each other once again, rolling and crushing my pitiful body between their dense, unstoppable flesh like a bit of lint. When the great pads of her fingertips allowed it, I could see that she was smiling wolfishly, her eyes locked on my tormented form.

 

 

 

The hot digits paused in their torment for a moment and I had no choice but to gaze upon the slowly stroking index finger as she spoke to me, "Well, little bug, what was that term? The other one, you know, besides 'button'? I think I initially heard it when I was away at college, what was it? Definitely not clitoris, obviously. Ahh! 'Little man in a rowboat,' wasn't that it? So childish, yet, that is very interesting all the same, isn't it? You're a little man too, and the same size. Well, perhaps this warrants a closer comparison? Maybe we'll save that little scenario for another time, hmm? Yes, I think that I'll let you go on a little boat excursion with your tiny friend sometime." With that the thumb and index fingertip clasping my naked body began to slide gently past one another again and I found myself in the suffocating, crushing hell.

 

 

 

The cruel titaness began laughing as she gazed down on my torment, her blue eyes glittering in delight. I could only make a hoarse, rattling sound as I tried to cry out. My tiny form was viciously wrung through the sliding, shifting crevice of her colossal, ridged finger pads. I was effortlessly brutalized, nearly crushed by the great, hot walls of some of my parent's most trivial anatomy.

 

 

 

My mother halted her gleeful, impulsive torture, though her laughter only died after trailing off as a small fit of giggling. "I don't want to get carried away, do I? No. Besides, I know a certain former young man that needs a good talking to." The carnal scent of her arousal was much stronger now. I coughed and then began to weakly moan in remorseful fear. I watched the beautiful digit slow in it's stroking before it detached from the denim hill and flew away. In one smooth, dizzying motion, the endless vertical landscape of my mom finally stood and turned towards the couch.

 

 

 

I rocketed upwards, feeling giddy and simultaneously sick. Far below me I caught a glimpse of my clothes being effortlessly pushed to the side, now a shapeless heap trod upon by those enormous, gorgeous feet. The sudden turn made my head swim and my stomach swoon. Though my huge mother had merely pivoted on her feet as she held me, my tiny body had accelerated and hurtled in a tight semicircle, all while being tightly compressed between her thumb and forefinger. As my mom sat on the couch, I yelped, violently hurtling downwards with her. As I panted, trying to recover from her slightest movements, I took in an awe-inspiring sight: my goddess-like mother crossed her legs. What to her was a simple and thoughtless act was to me an awe-inspiring spectacle. I swallowed hard as I watched an incalculably long, tanned leg rise and fold as it came to rest upon the veritable hill of her knee. My brief reverie was ended as she brought me to her face.

 

 

 

I could never describe what it was like to look into such a familiar face at such a tiny size. I began to violently hyperventilate as the horror of my mother's face so close overwhelmed me. I wanted nothing more than to hide from her effortlessly omnipotent gaze. The unreadable gleam in her eyes was no longer a mystery. She had been gleefully anticipating my reduction in size. Now I understood her smugness, and at an inch tall I deserved her arrogant, triumphant smirk.

 

 

 

My mother's enormous fingertips eased in their grip and I sucked in grateful breaths between my sobs. My dick, lost in the dense skin of her huge thumb pad, was numb. Her beautiful mouth was supremely frightening and erotic to watch. She could toss me into that immense mouth like a single piece of popcorn. My mom spoke gently, never losing that haughty, terrible smile. Even my cruel mother's simple act of speaking dominated me. I could feel her thick, overwhelming voice impact against my skin and shiver the tiny bones of my skull. Her breath was a gale of hot, humid jungle air.

 

 

 

"There we are. Well now, I've finally got you right where I want you, my irresponsible and absent son! You were always just so busy, weren't you? Making all of those new friends, and having all of those new experiences. For months now I've been begging you to come and visit me."

 

 

 

My mother's other hand swept in beneath of me and like some monstrous, alien flower the colossal fingers unfurled. I found myself sideways as I was lowered to her vast palm and released. I was shaking, my senses overloaded, as I gazed in awe at the seamed, glittering curves of flesh surrounding me. My mother's relaxed thumb towered over me off to one side like a rock arch formation, firmly rooted to the swelling hill that claimed a quarter of her palm's real estate. My shivering form knelt in the shadows of her four loosely curled fingers.

 

 

 

I entertained a morbid concern that I might slip away into hysteria simply because I could not escape my mother's elemental presence. The flesh of this cruel goddess was everywhere now, constituting nearly everything: it was the landscape my body rested upon, her fingers the surreal equivalent of trees that mocked instead of consoled me with their shade. She had even infected part of the sky with her unavoidable face and the air that I inhaled was altered noticeably with the familiar, subtle scent of her vast body.

 

 

 

I stoically fought to remain calm on this ever shifting platform of my mother's swirl engraved skin. I instinctively retracted one hand and leg, rolling onto my buttock to escape the touch of her flesh, only to perform the same action a moment later with my other arm and leg. I realized that I was utterly incapable of breaking the stifling, sticky contact of her flesh with my own nakedness. I knelt there helplessly, forcing myself to relax with deep breaths as the insteps of my feet, my shins, and tiny knees grew hot against the slightly springy, living ground.

 

 

 

My mother's vast face peered down on me with an air of slight disapproval as her other hand floated up to tower menacingly beyond my nightmarish island. "You barely managed to come and visit me this time. I wasn't so sure you would show up at all, with the way you were talking. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to spring my little trap. I was wondering if I would be forced to track you down in town and shrink you." The index finger of her looming hand extended, encroaching upon her upturned palm like she was about to search through some coins. Panic took hold of me, "oh God! Please mom, don't touch me!"

 

 

 

My skyscraper-sized mother ignored my tiny protests, her thunderous voice consuming and drowning out my own entirely. The beautiful fingertip confronted me, pointing accusingly at my pitiful body and I fell onto my back. "Why were you ignoring me for so long? Didn't it mean anything at all to you that your lonely, single mother wanted to spend time with you, her only son?" I dragged myself backwards across the humid ridges and seams using my elbows and heels, desperately trying to get away from the nightmarish, five foot diameter monster hovering in front of me. My mother's towering face looked irritated at my reaction to her finger and the massive appendage glided over me. Her mighty digit seemed to relax slightly and the frightening tip of it dropped towards me. The gleaming, hard edge of her fingernail, several inches thick and wider than my wretched body, lightly pressed against my chest. My awkward retreat had been effortlessly halted. The pair of enigmatic blue eyes were focused on my tiny, screeching form as I struggled against her nail.

 

 

 

I clutched my throbbing chest as the impossible finger lifted off of me. "Well," her index fingertip stabbed the air in front of me, causing a wall of wind to surge across my body, "guess what, my tiny bug boy?" The well manicured fingertip impacted against the seamed skin next to where I lay with a loud, powerful noise. Shock waves raced through her palm's flesh beneath of me as if it was stiff gelatin and I was buffeted violently by the displaced air. I stared in wide-eyed shock, that was just a tap of her digit. If I would have been beneath of that lovely fingertip during it's simple gesture I would have been completely crushed, "You're here now," the huge digit tapped again and I knew that my mother understood my nightmarish plight and point of view completely, "and I've made sure that you're not going anywhere, ever" tap! "again" tap!

 

 

 

My mother's finger lingered after it's last tap, resting against the flesh of her palm in front of where my pitiful form lay. The annoyance in her five story tall face was replaced with a pleased smugness. I watched in horror as the pad of her immense fingertip bulged as slight pressure was applied to it. She smiled with a dark satisfaction as her digit subtly tilted against her palm's seamed padding. She was showing it to me, casually modeling it's well-hydrated beauty, or it's inherent might, or both. Dread washed over me, I was truly nothing now. I had become trapped in a vicious parody of my own reality, a place where I could be casually popped like a rotten blueberry by my own mother's colossal, flawlessly manicured fingertips... and this fact delighted her.

 

 

 

My smiling mother's index finger lifted from the crease-dappled swells of her palm and loomed up in front of me threateningly. I scrambled up onto my knees and lifted my tiny arms. I was unsure what exactly I was doing, whether I might ineffectually try to protect myself once again or make an attempt to pacify her. I was convulsing with a mixture of terror, remorse and adrenaline.

 

 

 

"Please… don't… squish me... mom," I whispered hoarsely.

 

 

 

"What do you think you're doing, hmm?" My mother thundered sultrily, the powerful acoustic waves of her voice raced violently across my skin like it was a drum head. The beautiful fingertip drew closer to me as a small smile crossed my mother's towering face. My stomach knotted as the unreal digit filled my vision. The overhang of her fingernail abruptly shielded my eyes from the sunlight streaming through the distant living room windows like a small canopy. "Please… don't…" I whispered, instinctively pressing my hands to the ribbed surface of her bulging fingertip. I wanted to recoil as I felt the scant, salty oils cling to my palms. Then the swirled bulge was against my face and upper chest and I sputtered nervously.

 

 

 

I pulled my face free, now defiled with a stiff, salty oil. My trembling had exhausted my muscles and now each uncontrollable quiver built upon a grating ache that I felt even in my bones. My captor held her mighty finger quite still, absolutely dwarfing my tiny kneeling form. I inhaled deeply to momentarily stall my fear and took the risk of provoking an immediate response from her. As I trembled, I quickly crawled around to the side of her immense digit, hoping to change my position to where it wasn't quite as threatening to me or quite as tempting for her. My hands ran across the slightly sticky grooves as they steadied my sore body. She responded, but not in the way that I had dreaded, the great bulk of her immaculate fingertip simply dropped to her palm. My footing became harder to maintain as her palm's dense skin divoted beneath of her digit's immense weight. The vast face was watching me with a curious amusement.

 

 

 

I took in the colossal fingertip I leaned against in numbed shock. I forced myself to run my tiny hands across the dense, hot flesh of the pretty digit. "I'm so sorry mom," I addressed her looming, smiling face with a hoarse, quavering voice, "please..." Please what? My words didn't matter, there would be no redemption from my new trinket-sized status. There was nothing at all that I could say even if she could hear me to change her mind. The only thing I could even attempt to do was to appease this god-like being, in the hope that I might save my fragile form from further torture by denigrating myself, by distracting her.

 

 

 

I turned back to the hulking, perfectly manicured behemoth and stiffly pressed my lips to the revoltingly briny flesh. I threw myself partially across the ridged, seamed pillar as I reverently stroked my hands across the great swell of tanned skin at the base of her elegant and colossal fingernail. She was silently smiling down on my tiny efforts to appease her. I pulled myself fully onto the great resting fingertip and pressed my lips to the taut flesh. As I cautiously kissed an audible rush of air left my mother's nostrils and it flowed quickly over me, causing my hair to whip and dance.

 

 

 

"Are you trying to worship me? That's awfully cute." With a moronic gasp of eagerness I slid away from her digit's bulging side. I quickly fell onto my face next to her fingertip, folding up in veneration like some groveling extra in a King Kong movie. "Aww." The finger lifted free from her palm, it's monstrous, glossy red fingernail threatened to sever my tiny arms as it lightly touched me for a moment before pulling away. "But you already worship me, bug- you have for a long time now, I think. Besides, Mikey, you should put forth a little bit more effort than just this. I'm not some distant, uncaring deity and I'm definitely not imaginary."

 

 

 

I hazarded a glance into the sky overhead and I regretted it immediately. My mother was smiling down on me, relaxed and confident, relishing my tiny, cowering form. I was covered in the shadow of her mighty index finger as it lowered onto me. It's dense, hot flesh pressed against my back as I prostrated, forcing my face into a deep seam on her palm. "A little kowtowing won't ever win any brownie points with me."

 

 

 

My knees were forced against my diaphragm as the pad of the pretty fingertip completely covered my neatly compacted form. "Although, I have to admit, I'm enjoying this, my tiny toy." I moaned as the air was forced from my lungs, my bones creaked as I was pressed in upon myself. My mother's touch felt like an immense, car-sized sandbag, filled almost to bursting with scorching sand. My colossal parent held me there, just a moment away from effortlessly crushing me like the bug I now was.

 

 

 

The digit finally lifted off and her frightening nail softly stroked the flesh directly in front of me. "I appreciate that you are eager, but please, leave the details of how you will worship up to me," the fingernail touched me, lightly rolling me across the sweltering, swollen skin, "Mommy has a few ideas about how you will properly worship me already, don't worry. Though I did enjoy your little kisses." The dense pad of her digit lowered onto me and I shivered as she felt my tiny form with slow, exploratory strokes. She casually violated me as she rolled me around like a trinket. I was effortlessly robbed of a proper breath as her dense, ridged flesh nearly crushed my tiny body repeatedly. I was lightly pinned against the hot flesh of her palm. I gulped in the sweet air, overwhelmed completely by the imperious digit looming over me like some triumphant bully.

 

 

 

The index finger swung away, folding back against it's mighty sisters in the hovering fist. "I really do appreciate your servile attitude. However, Mikey," my mother's smile evaporated, replaced by a mock look of sad concern. Her beautiful thumb straightened out from her floating fist, "I think you should be warned: you've been ignoring me for almost an entire year and, well, you're just so vulnerable now, aren't you?" The giant ridged pad swept in over me, a stout, oval monster capable of covering a hot tub full of people my size as effortlessly as my mother might use it to control the flow of olive oil from a bottle onto her salad. Her eyes glowed dangerously as her well-hydrated thumb lowered, "You have really hurt Mommy's feelings, so I may be a bit less than charitable towards you. That's all right though, you are just a bug, after all." 

 

 

 

I shook with a surge of unrequited adrenaline, covering my face with a moan. I knew that I could not escape my omnipotent captor, there was no place to hide on her palm and even worse, I would be trying to evade her gigantic thumb. To do so would be a dangerous, perhaps accidentally lethal provocation.

 

 

 

In the rapidly depleting circle of light which surrounded my tiny, naked body I watched as my mother's immense face swept downwards like a falling curtain. Then I was confronted by one vast blue eye which eagerly stared at me from beyond the twilight of the closing crevice. I shivered and curled into a ball, pressing my sobbing face to the hot, ridged skin that I rested upon. The cruel, colossal thumb pad touched me, locking me in place beneath of it. The beautiful eye was replaced by her vast, smiling mouth.

 

 

 

My mother's voice was nauseatingly sweet with delight, and the thick vibrations of her overpowering voice made my skin sting, "We are going to be spending some quality time together, but on Mommy's terms now. Let me just remind you of my terms, Mikey. From now on you'll live under my thumb, either figuratively or..."

 

 

 

"...Literally." I was sealed completely in cruel, ridged skin. My breathing was halted and my tiny bones creaked like old lumber. I was on the verge of passing out when I was suddenly out in the light once again, but something was terribly wrong. My naked body had become grotesquely plastered back-first to the pad of my mother's thumb. I shrieked as I fought to peel free my tiny arms. My mother's huge hand rotated so that she could see me. A deafening laugh reverberated through my skin. The pretty digit floated upwards, taking me with it towards the laughing face as an unwilling passenger.

 

 

My mother looked over my tiny body, her frightening mouth twisting into a smirk. "Oh no, Mikey! It looks like you're stuck to Mommy!" She whispered, her eyes wide in mocking surprise, "hmm, you know, I really think that this is a good look for you. Very fetching." The thumb's pad tilted back at the massive joint and my vertebrae were elongated in a stretch across the plump curve of her flesh. "This is quite fitting for you, don't you agree?" The beautiful thumb flexed up and down with slow, careful movements, "you're Mommy's adorable little finger puppet now, aren't you?"

 

 

 

My mother chuckled as her index finger pressed against my torso and I was firmly secured again in her grasp. I felt my stomach churn as she lowered her hand to her lap, resting the back of it on the expansive curved plain of her bare thigh. She continued to keep me delicately clamped between her elegant fingers like a piece of candy. I looked up at my frightening captor. Her face and long blonde hair were now far above, foreshortened to the point of outlandishness, now just the distant peak of the vast mountain of tanned flesh and coarse fabric. You would think that from my point of view she might look like a monument. But, monuments don't move, they don't look you in the eyes as they squeeze you a bit more in their gigantic grasp like a defeated bug.

 

 

 

My mother's upper body lowered towards me and I began struggling, whatever she was about to do I wanted no part of it. I could not help but to react as if the prow of some huge oil tanker were bearing down on me. But it was only my mother's massive, pretty face. Her face became very close as her other enormous hand lowered and it's index finger reached out towards me as she spoke. I instinctively wanted to flee but I could not move at all.

 

 

 

"You're going to make everything up to me, Mikey. We'll be spending a lot of time together, but I'm not sure you're going to enjoy all of it. That's too bad, because I think I'll be loving our time together. We're going to be very close, Mikey, very close from now on."

 

 

 

My mother smiled thoughtfully and her beautiful fingertip zeroed in on my tiny head. I could not escape it, I was completely trapped. Her digit was almost as large in diameter as I was tall. I was hoarsely protesting as her fingertip blotted everything else out of my vision. My tiny screams were suddenly cut off by the imposition of my mother's touch. I heard a small, content murmur of satisfaction in reaction to my abrupt and forceful silencing. The fingertip gently mauled my tiny face with small strokes across it. The ridges of her flesh scraped along my tiny features, thoroughly smashing them and then it would pull away, readying for another pass. Above me my mother was smirking, relishing my absolute helplessness.

 

 

 

I could only hang there and pant. My eyes had teared up and they stung from being harshly maltreated against my mother's salty fingerprint. Her huge, frightening thumb joined her exploring index finger and they deftly pinched at my tiny, flailing legs as I desperately tried to keep them free.

 

 

 

"Aww. Look at those tiny things! I'm just going to- I just want to see one of these handsome legs."

 

 

 

With very little effort my left leg was caught between the huge red nails. My foot and shin became deeply trapped in the ridged crevice of her finger's pads. I was shrieking as I fruitlessly tugged with all my might. My limb was engulfed almost all the way up to my hip and I watched as my mountainous captor grinned. My tiny limb was not much more than the size of a sewing needle between the intimidating and flawless nails. I choked on my own panicked breathing and moaned in shock.

 

 

 

"You've always had such nice, muscular legs, Mikey. Good, strong swimmer's legs."

 

 

 

I wanted to throw up again. It felt like the blood in my leg was squeezed downwards, almost forced into my foot as my mother gently slid her colossal fingernails down to my ankle. The beautiful, apparently omnipotent being grinned cheerfully as she held onto my miniature foot, trapped painfully between the tips of her nails. She watched in fascination as I struggled against her.

 

 

 

"I've got some special things planned for us. I don't think you need to worry about it, it's just boring stuff that your mother does all the time. But you can help me out, can't you? That's the least you can do, isn't it, Mikey? You've always been really good at doing the minimum required, haven't you? Well, just take a look at yourself! I would say that now you're actually the minimum required son."

 

 

 

My mother released my tiny foot and her gigantic thumb and index finger nearly blotted out her face as they overwhelmed me, delicately pinching again. Both of my tiny flailing legs were caught simultaneously between her fingertips, trapped in the red vice of her flawless fingernails. Her simple act caused my hysterics to escalate and I fought back with all my strength, bucking and straining in panic. The pretty face smirked as my legs were stretched out horizontally. She could effortlessly sever both of my legs at once if she chose to. I was utterly dwarfed by her thumbs and index fingers which carefully held my pitiful, trembling form like a tiny rubber band between them.

 

 

 

"Aww, just look at this adorable little body! I don't need or want any more of you than this, Mikey. I just need a little bit and you are definitely just a little bit!"

 

 

 

The blonde titaness released my legs and her upturned index finger lifted from below me. My tiny bare feet met the swirled pad of her fingertip. I levered my legs against her flesh, trying to free my upper body from her monstrous, confining grip. The vast, beautiful face smiled, enjoying my futile struggles.

 

 

 

"I can't get enough of these handsome little legs of yours, Mikey."

 

 

 

Her index finger raised upwards a slight bit more, my buttocks and tiny legs were forced to rest on the pad of her fingertip. She was smiling as she studied my slowly writhing legs. Her terrifying thumb unfolded and antagonized me, stroking my vulnerable, trapped legs experimentally beneath it's dense, colossal bulk. Her index finger finally slid away and my tiny legs dangled once again.

 

 

 

My mother raised her vast thumb from below me and held it still, laying my lower body out onto her thumbnail. That colossal face came even closer, filling the space in front of me completely. I was a bug on a microscope slide, my tiny legs and crotch standing out in high relief against the expansive red carapace of her nail. She squinted as she held her breath and a smug smile passed across her face. “Aww. Just look at that!” my mother whispered and she puckered her lips, blowing gently across her thumbnail. The colossus grinned sunnily as she studied my tiny form. After a few more moments of staring at my infinitesimal legs, her intimidating thumb slid away.

 

 

 

I was panting, my throat was sore and I hung there limply between my mother's fingertips in front of her face. Her eyes were glittering, bright with excitement. Her littlest finger unfolded from her immense, hovering hand. The digit lowered slowly towards me as her gigantic, amused eyes stared into my frightened face. There was nothing little at all about my mother's pinky, it was at least fifteen feet in length and perhaps four feet in diameter. The tremendous fingertip came close overhead and loomed there authoritatively as she smirked. My tiny face was gently touched for a moment before the digit pulled away, hovering over me ominously.

 

 

 

"You're going to be very obedient, aren't you, Mikey? Because I've got your undivided attention now, don't I?" My mother whispered, her eyes gleaming, "I bet that you would just hate for me to even lift a finger to punish you?"

 

 

 

My vast mother was smiling with relish as my entire tiny and vulnerable head was slowly captured beneath her littlest finger's pad. My skull was pinned against the unmoving backdrop of her pinched fingers which still confined and held me. I was babbling, my tiny face pressed against her dense flesh. Despite my mouth being smashed against the salty fingerprint, I tried uselessly to beg my goddess-sized mother for mercy. "You're going to do whatever I want, right, Mikey?" The dense cushion of ridged flesh delicately pressed down, cruelly conforming around my gasping, sputtering head and upper body, entombing them completely. "You're going to be desperate to keep me happy, right?" She kept me subdued like that for what seemed like an eternity.

 

 

 

 

Finally my mother removed her pinky from my head. I was panting as she softly touched the tiny, quivering pieces of my body which stuck out past the expansive crevice of her thumb and index finger. She was smiling happily, savoring each massive, careful contact. Her intimidating pinky fingertip delicately roamed across me as if it was exploring the downy, fragile sphere of a pregnant dandelion. I felt like my chest was going to collapse against the rough, steamy bulk which dragged itself across me. I involuntarily shivered as my skyscraper-sized mother's blue eyes beamed cheerfully. She brought her fingertip in to hover just in front of my tiny head. The cold, thick edge of her fingernail pushed against my cheek and then jaw to change the angle of my tiny face.

 

 

 

I tearfully begged for my mother to stop, but I was simply too small to be heard. The vast blonde goddess was enraptured as her pretty finger carefully explored. My ineffective arms were easily thwarted, effortlessly overruled, folded painfully against my torso or buried beneath the unstoppable and weighty trace of her digit. My own tears and saliva which glistened on her swirled fingerprint were smeared onto the backs of my hands, my knees, my tiny shins. She laughed at me again, hurting my ears as her fingernail played with my twitching, combative legs. Her digit pulled away, her wrist turning until her pinky was upturned, hovering just beneath the hand which was softly pinching me.

 

 

 

The gargantuan thumb and index finger which gripped me rotated until I hung over her pinky fingertip and just beyond it the vast, smooth thigh. I was slightly lowered over the unreal fingertip and her digits eased their cruel squeeze dramatically. Gravity took hold of me and I slid downward, suddenly free of her monstrous pinch. I fell away from her digits only a short distance and collided with her upturned finger. I scrambled in a panic, wrapping my little arms and legs as well as I could around the vast girth of my mother's pinky fingertip as her other hand swept away.

 

 

 

Slightly behind me and to my left were the huge, folded fingers of my mother's upturned left hand. Laying lightly down against them was her colossal thumb, the soft and well-kept digit was large enough to rival a compact car in size. The pinky finger I clung tightly to lifted and tilted as she raised her hand closer to her face and looked me over. I could feel her awesome breath on my back and out of the corner of my eye I could see the platinum shine of her hair.

 

 

 

I trembled, my mind reeling in shock as deep sobs rocked me. It was absurd, but finding myself desperately perched atop one of my own mother's colossal fingertips had crumbled the last of my instinctive, stubborn denial. My impossible transformation had been unmerciful to my body and mind, even withering my spirit. But my own mother had become grotesquely changed as well. I was the tiny, defenseless plaything of a tremendous and awful being. An entity which derived boundless joy from dominating, compressing and probing my conquered, helpless body.

 

 

 

"Aww. This is nice. So very, very nice! I suppose that I don't even need to say a word about where you are right now, do I, Mikey? It's such obvious and appropriate symbolism. I like that." The thick sound waves of her impossible voice penetrated my tingling skin and caused my ears to ring.

 

 

 

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, from the vast hand that my frightening fingertip perch belonged to. My mother's mighty thumb had unfolded and detached from across the top of her elephantine knuckles, freeing her other nestled fingers. The three fingers unfolded, their colossal, pillar like forms sped past my perch as they unfurled. I was buffeted by the wind displaced by them as a shadow fell over me.

 

 

 

The plump tip of my mother's thumb came very close to me, utterly dwarfing my tiny presence. I gazed in horror at the wide, gleaming thumbnail that jutted from her digit's obscene mass. A tiny, defeated sound escaped my tightened throat and I pressed my grimacing, wet face into her little finger's ridges in despair. The thumb's pad eclipsed my tiny form and then it's leathery, rough skin touched my backside. I was crushed against her little finger's hot, grooved bulk in a delicate pinch which momentarily drove the air from me.

 

 

 

The massive, hot crevice which now trapped me turned until my view of the outside world was overwhelmed by my mother's smirking mouth. The bulging pads of her fingertips which held me shifted slightly, compressing my captured torso and legs. I moaned horribly as I threw my head back. For a moment I was frozen, my painful utterance dying in my throat as I took in the staggering view of my mother's tremendous face.

 

 

 

I hung so closely to my mom's face that her features had become a broad, vertical tower to me, composed of vast contours of gleaming, oily golden skin. Dominating this unnatural precipice were the beautiful mouth and the unreal underside of her nose. Her nightmarish nostrils were each more than large enough for me to crawl within. My mother's distant eyes were hidden beyond her high cheekbones, only the tips of her unreal lashes gave away their locations at all.

 

 

 

I was so small that to me, this person whose face I knew intimately was more of a living landscape, perhaps even more of a place than an individual. An alienating, dreadful awe swept over me, gleefully tearing at the broken, scattered pieces of my self image, my identity and humanity.

 

 

 

I was ripped out of my horrified stare as my tiny face and single free arm were slowly pressed into the pink, pleated wall of my mother's lower lip. I was shrieking as she stroked me sideways across the hot, bulging flesh. My weak, shrill pleas for mercy went unheard or ignored as the titaness hummed deeply in satisfaction. I was withdrawn from the enormous mouth and watched as it drew up into a slight smile.

 

 

 

"Mmm. You're so soft to me there!" My vision blurred as my gigantic mother spoke, my face directly subjected to the full force of her deliberately gentle voice. My temporary sight impairment did little to dampen the horrific majesty of that mouth moving all at once so close to me. "That's nice, Mikey. I want more of that." I caught the shockingly white flash of her teeth as she spoke, my ears popping from the pressure waves as my skin buzzed in alarm. "Mmm," the vast lips grew fuller as the corners of her mouth forced a slight pout. I was trembling with adrenaline as my pitiful face was gently pressed against the seamed wall of her lower lip again. I gibbered nonsensically, my own confined voice strangely dampened as her lip's flesh molded to the entire front of my tiny skull.

 

 

 

My stupendous mother rumbled another cheerful noise. The leathery wall which was violating my face quaked in resonance with this little murmur from her titanic vocal cords. I thrashed as my optic nerves erupted with fireworks behind my tightly shut eyes. I managed to turn my head to the side as I was swept again across a tiny portion of her lower lip. On the second pass I could no longer fight against her actions with my exhausted neck muscles. My poor face skidded helplessly across the cushiony flesh. I slapped my single free hand against the bulbous wall and desperately clawed at it's huge creases as I was dragged along. My mother's lower lip twitched.

 

 

 

The cruel titaness pulled me back slightly and I was confronted by her perturbed mouth. My head swung recklessly back as she moved me. I forced my neck muscles to work and rested my drooping head against the ridged behemoth of her pinky fingertip. I weakly begged the petulant, beautiful mouth, "please, mom. Please-" the words died in my throat as the vast lips came in closer to my stifled form.

 

 

 

"Bad boy," the titanic mouth whispered, sending tingling ripples of sensation across my face and body.

 

 

 

My mother's angry looking lips parted just a tiny fraction. What little of me that was exposed past her fingertips was daintily brought to rest onto her lower lip. I stared wide-eyed at the back of this pink cave of flesh, into the twilight, where the bulging, seamed ground became wet with saliva, where the wall of neat, white enamel teeth shone. I was bellowing as my captor's upper lip relaxed back to a neutral position. My poor head and arm were caught beneath the very edge of that gargantuan curtain of pillowy lip. I was utterly helpless as tons of her pliable pink flesh molded to my tiny extremities, cradling my body parts in a hot, inescapable living tomb. I could not struggle, nor could I breathe as my mother delicately punished me for fighting back against her.

 

 

 

The titaness lingered for a moment with my miniature upper body trapped between her lips. Then the hand which held me slowly slid away from her annoyed mouth, dragging free my poor head and tingling arm. I sucked in huge breaths, my face and ears felt like they were on fire from the pressures I had been forced to endure. The fingertips which held my tiny body traveled upwards. I was raised very close to the awe-inspiring, golden landscape of my own mother's vast, five-story tall face.

 

 

 

I was confronted by one incredible blue eye. I could not read my mother's mood or expression as the vast, glossy orb gazed upon my uncomfortably trapped form. The iridescent blue iris visibly contracted and with a sudden, furious violence she blinked. It almost sounded like a gun being discharged as the eyelashes and flesh collided. I cried out in shock at this surreal, ridiculous display of might as eddies of disturbed air raced across my sweaty skin.

 

 

 

An intimidating fingertip from my mother's other hand slid in sideways between her huge eye and my body like a prowling shark. It lifted as it drew closer to me, my tiny head and arm came to rest on the cool, crimson gloss of the enormous fingernail's tip.

 

 

 

"Kiss me," my mother's voice whispered thunderously. I mopped the gleaming crimson with my mouth. With my single sore arm I awkwardly stroked the hardened varnish in desperate consolation as I fought not to weep. The scary yet also quite captivating eye blinked once again and I flinched with a yelp.

 

 

 

My mother's eye stared at me for a long moment before her fingernail retracted, leaving my head and arm dangling uselessly from her pinched digits. The vast index fingertip dove, disappearing to somewhere far below me. There was a rustling sound in the distance and my mother's eye looked away from me. A quake rippled through the mighty fingers which held me. The beautiful abomination that was my own mother was putting forth some amount of awkward effort to do something. But what?

 

 

 

My answer was quick, my mother's eye pulled back, away from me. I could see most of her beautiful face as her other fingers flew up from below. They brought something with them, a black, plastic cylinder that took me a moment to recognize: the jewelers loupe that I had found on her coffee table. I watched in horror as the beautiful, towering fingers deftly pushed the magnifier against her eye. The index fingertip and colossal thumb of that hand continued to float next to the black cylinder once they had affixed it to her face.

 

 

 

"There we are," the thumb and index finger which delicately gripped me brought me in closer to the huge lens, "you remember mommy's magnifier, don't you? I bought it specifically for dealing with you, my tiny bug boy." I shivered as the ominous cylinder hovered closer. Beyond the convex, crystal aperture my mother's blue eye had become distorted into a warped mass of color. "Aww. You look so sad, Mikey. I can see your tiny face, clear as day," I was deafened by her thunderous giggle.

 

 

 

The thumb and index fingertips of my cruel parent's free hand drew near to me, each were easily the size of concrete pipes often buried to route away rainwater from a neighborhood. They carefully closed onto my fragile arm, trapping it between their hot, merciless flesh for a moment before letting go. There was a deafening rumble, a gentle, amused chuckle from the colossus. "Oh, such a look! You don't like it when mommy touches you? You're going to get used to this, whether you like it or not," she thundered ominously.

 

 

 

The immense eye beyond the lens stared monstrously as my mother's gigantic thumb and index fingertip slowly encroached upon my vulnerable head. "Beg me," her whispered words tickled my tiny dangling feet. As I flailed, pleading hysterically, her elegant fingers slowly closed, trapping my pitiful skull between the tips of her nails like a little seed. My eyes rolled back in my head as my windpipe was squeezed shut. I was only a subtle muscle tremor, just a tiny movement away from an insect's gruesome death.

 

 

 

The impossible digits pivoted open and my tiny, gasping face was carefully touched by the edge of a flawless fingernail as she chuckled, "I absolutely adore how delicate you've become, how very tiny I've made you. Aww, don't cry, little boy. Maybe mommy will introduce you to her jewelry box's windup ballerina. She's a little bit too tall for you, I think, but then again, you like tall women, don't you?" I felt the first tiny butterflies in my stomach as I began to drop.

 

 

 

As I sped away from her enormous smirking face I was the target of her haughty, omnipotent glare. I watched as she removed the jewelers loupe from her eye. I plummeted, hurtling downward just beyond the tall, golden towers of her shins. Her fingertips lowered to the floor a short distance out in front of her. The vast thumb pad's moist bulk peeled free of my back. The edge of her long crimson thumbnail pressed down against her pinky, just beyond my legs, and she scraped me free of her fingertip like a bit of trash. My mother removed her hand, but remained folded over, her ample chest practically touching her lap.

 

 

 

I immediately scrambled awkwardly and painfully up onto my legs, but then I was paralyzed. Directly in front of me, perhaps fifty yards away were my mother's gargantuan feet. I realized that I might only come up to near the top of her big toes. Above me her beautiful face stared enigmatically down at me, her humor gone. Her stern face was flanked on each side by one of her tanned knees. For the second time today I felt like I had been punched in the stomach as I vividly recall her preoccupation with her feet, plucking up the perfume bottle's cap, stroking the pad of her big toe as she wondered out loud about… I began to back up.

 

 

 

"Well, now that I've got you here, I think that there should be some protocols that need to be in place for us to best enjoy our time together. Don't you? I am sure that the first thing that comes to your mind might be something like; please don't hurt me Mommy! I understand. You are such a tiny thing now, aren't you? I should be concerned about you're well-being, shouldn't I? Wouldn't that be the motherly thing to do? Because... you're a good son, right?"

 

 

 

My mother's intimidating toes all flexed before pressing down into the carpet. They bulged, fattening and growing pale. I could feel subtle shifts in the vast, dusty netting of the carpet's substrate. My mouth became dry as I stared in horror at those sexy, mighty appendages that now cruelly and utterly dwarfed me.

 

 

 

"Hmm. But, wait a minute! Didn't I ask you to come out for my birthday? I should have expected my only son to automatically show up, but I wasn't sure with how neglectful of me you have been since you started college. So I asked you directly and of course, you said you would. I opened my presents. I had cake with your aunts. You never showed up. I ate dinner alone that night. Oh, I'm sure you had more important things to do, didn't you, Mikey? Then, remember when I called you up and begged you to come over and relight my furnace? I know, Mikey, it was only a voice mail. They are so easy to ignore, aren't they? That was a fifty dollar house call the furnace repair man made- just to relight the furnace."

 

 

 

My vast, looming mother leaned down closer and the huge couch creaked ominously. Her enormous face was blank, her pretty mouth terse. 

 

 

 

"You had responsibilities and you neglected them. I thought you would be considerate, compassionate and lend a hand when desperately needed by your poor mother, but you didn't. Well, Mikey, you owe me a birthday present. You also owe me fifty dollars. You owe me a lot more than that, too. I think you should try to make amends. I have some ideas how you might make everything better between us. But, not right now. It's my turn to be selfish, isn't it?”

 

 

 

 

My mother's enormous beautiful right foot tilted into the air and she wiggled her colossal toes as she smiled coldly. I was so tiny! She could crush me with the slightest movement of one of those sexy digits. I was truly a bug compared to her. My mind raced, plummeting into fantastical and unfortunately horribly possible musings. I could become lost in the crevices between those unreal toes. I could live out my days there, trapped in the hot, endlessly shifting cracks of my own mother's enormous toe flesh. Would I grow pale and sickly? Would I become a tiny, dirty wretch living off of the fetid, nutrient-poor grease which perpetually and invisibly coated those lovely appendages?

 

 

 

My own visions humbled me in a horrible way I had never experienced before, in a way that was perhaps not healthy for my mind. I staggered and reeled, almost falling down, almost slipping out of consciousness. The simple realization of my plight was a horrible wound laid in the very center of my psyche. I blinked back tears as my mouth trembled and a cold sweat overcame me. I smacked my dry lips like a senile old man as I sought to focus on the only thing I could… the flexing of those giant toes which hovered in the sky between my tiny form and my mother's distant, frightening face.

 

 

 

"I have every right to feel a little bit selfish, I think. I even have you now, don't I? So this is perfect, my spoiled rotten son, an inch tall and literally at my feet! I feel like indulging myself. But, where to start? We'll start with that bill for having my furnace re-lit. But, Mikey, you're so tiny, it's going to take quite a while to pay back that fifty dollars to me."

 

 

 

As she spoke I was dreadfully preoccupied with the underside of her mighty big toe which floated majestically between us. The slightly long toenail overshot the great plump behemoth of glistening, grooved flesh. My mother's pretty and well-pampered toe filled me with terrible fear. At such an awesome size this trivial piece of her anatomy was truly an embodiment of cruel feminine authority. I was trembling. Before my terrible transformation she had stroked it, right there, right in the middle as she whispered crazy things... I was snapped out of my horrible realization as the distant, hidden hips shifted forwards slightly, causing the unreal structure of the couch to groan like a muttering glacier.

 

 

 

"Well, I think right now I want to experience a lot more of what you feel like, Mikey. I've really been thinking about that a lot lately. Exploring your little body is worth some pocket change to me. Just think of this as payment for services rendered! It sounds so risqué, doesn't it? Sort of like being a male dancer I suppose. You've got a good enough body for that, you know. But, they have standards, and I think you're just not tall enough anymore. So I have another form of adult entertainment in mind for you, another way you can pay Mommy back. We'll talk about my belated birthday present later."

 

 

 

A little smile crossed my colossal mother's distant face and the huge big toe of her dangling foot dipped low as the other smaller toes spread widely. I turned to run but there was no way I could outdistance her impossibly long leg. A shadow grew around me and an unstoppable force collided with me from behind, it was quite hot and firm as it impacted against my back. I was knocked to the carpet and I managed to roll over. As I screamed, holding out my tiny, ridiculously slender arms the bulky, elegant big toe lowered onto me.

 

 

 

I could tell immediately that this was not going to be the gentle touches that my mother had doled out before. She wanted to feel me beneath her in a meaningful, which meant much more forceful, way.

 

 

 

My screams turned to pitiful frightened wails as the toe slowly lowered. My feet were the first of my body to be dominated. As the bulbous, heavily ridged flesh slowly lowered it's naturally bulky shape steam-rolled down over my tiny feet, I managed to position them turned to the outside. My quick thinking probably saved the dislocation of my ankles. The weight was incredible and quickly I was captured up to my waist. There was now only a sliver, a crevice of free space above my torso and face. My tiny head thumped against my mother's ridged skin as I panicked. This made her laugh thunderously. I knew I couldn't fight her, that sentiment was instinctive but utterly ridiculous. I stopped pushing back against the overwhelming digit and quickly lowered my arms to my sides, palms down. As it grew dark around me I laid back and concentrated on breathing and not screaming.

 

 

 

"Oh, Mikey! That's nice! Mmm."

 

 

 

My mother's hot and tacky skin touched my face and then there was incredible pressure. This was far worse than being underneath her punishing fingertip. At first I wasn't sure if I would be crushed into a paste. My bones, on the verge of collapse popped and creaked. My tiny face was assaulted by ridges as wide as my thumb and spaced that far apart as well. My tiny features were smashed into my mother's merciless toe flesh. I felt the impossibly large toe pad finally distort slightly around my diminutive pinned form. I could hear and even feel her pulse. Despite or perhaps because of my shock and terror my cock was hard and cradled in the groove between two ridges of my mother's toe print.

 

 

 

The pressure eased and I sensed light through my closed eyelids. There was motion shuddering down through the maternal flesh which had captured me. The enormous toe slowly slid backwards, her toe print scrubbed and undulated across my fragile skin. My skin was being tugged at and my hard penis was dragged around in a semicircle until it pointed down between my legs. I cried out in pain as it felt like the whole front of my body was being torn at. I opened my eyes and found that my tiny head was now in the free air. Above me was the mighty tip of my mother's big toe, rotund and tan, bulging out like a giant fat pillow compressed under slight weight. The toenail jutted out from her flesh, a short canopy made of horn. I could see the deep scratches and matte surface where an enormous nail file had done its work in preparation for lacquer.

 

 

 

"Ahh, there's a pretty little head."

 

 

 

I could see my immense mother peering down at me, just her brilliant blue eyes and a mess of long blonde hair, her enormous toe and long toenail obscuring everything else.

 

 

 

"I hope this is okay, Mike. You're just going to have to get used to this. You feel good to me under there, just like I had hoped you would. Just think of it as an expression of how our relationship is right now."

 

 

 

Her eyes crinkled, she was smiling.

 

 

 

"It doesn't seem like a very good relationship to you, I suppose. Don't think of it like that. You're just working off that fifty dollars, that's all. So you give me a big smile and work it. You've already paid me back five whole dollars, because you're so wonderfully delicate against Mommy's great big scary toe. Forty-five to go. What? You think I'm being unfair? Well, you show Mommy some more moves then, you little teaser. How about I press down a little bit. Just a little bit, just a little taste."

 

 

 

She winked at me as I struggled vainly, panicked and trapped beneath tons of her toe flesh. The pressure was back, but this time my head was out beyond her crazy anatomy. The tip of the enormous toe above me deformed slightly as my bones popped. I felt my rib cage tremble and my head was assaulted as the ridged skin bulged, swelling out and deforming, almost flowing down over my face. My ears were folded painfully as my whole body was slowly embedded into the harsh, wire-like carpet fibers.

 

 

 

My gigantic mother held me there like that for too long. No air could reach my lungs and if it could I didn't have enough space mechanically to take in a breath. Only my eyes and the top of my head were free at all. They were still caught beneath her toe print, just not tortuously compressed like the rest of my pitifully tiny frame. It seemed that an eternity after my panic had died, around the time I had stopped struggling and was fleeing to the dark, featureless place inside my screaming brain cells there was a change. My nervous system sensed a difference upon my nakedness and that sparking signal brought me back. I was being tugged upwards painfully. As I gasped and panted I realized I was clear of the carpet fibers. I sucked in a breath and coughed raggedly.

 

 

 

I opened the free eye of my still-smashed face, my view was of convex flesh and it's limitless swirled toe print. Somewhere to my side, at the limits of my vision I could see the carpet, it was well below me. I was plastered to the bottom of her beautiful big toe like a bug. Stuck directly to my massive and overbearing torturer via the stinky and sticky funk which coated my mother's digit. I heard a massive giggle which split the air around me. There was movement and suddenly a colossal fingertip lightly grazed across me as I moaned. It pressed me into the fleshy pad and I heard her chuckle under her breath. Then the thick blunt tips of her fingernails indelicately trapped my tiny torso between them and peeled me free from the reddened toe pad. I screamed as my body's weight was suddenly completely free and suspended from the pinch of her nail-tips. It was like being pinned and dangling between two enormous, cruel keratin shovels pressed in opposition against each other.

 

 

 

I was limp, my limbs dangling and weakly twitching like some wilted, spindly toy as my mother gently laid me down. I was no longer on the carpet, but at my back was a cool, hard surface. She had placed my limp body onto her big toe. I lay there on top of her monolithic toenail like a discarded bit of trash. I knew I had welts, bruises on my ribs and hips. I was panting as I fought to ride out the initial wave of pain.

 

 

 

I could see all of my mother's face now, far above me. In a way, I wished that I could not look directly at her. She was calm and relaxed, not wrecked, not winded and limp like me. What she had just done to me took more care and effort to limit her exertion so I did not die than anything else. Looking up at pure and ferocious might which wore that particular face was deeply humbling. Knowing that the mind behind those unassumingly pretty eyes enjoyed and relished her intentionally will-breaking, torturous play was terrifying.

 

 

 

Ligaments the size of suspension bridge cables pulsed to life from within the flesh of my mother's vast instep. The colossal feminine digit I helplessly rested upon raised slowly upward off of the carpet and it swayed gently from side to side. I was stationary for only a moment before my panting body slid across the gargantuan curved surface of the toenail. My tiny form was stopped against the bulging, hot flesh at the side of her nail. I settled in the small, “v” shaped trough where toenail met flesh. I weakly floundered there in the cognizant horror that my tiny head and limbs might be pinched in this huge intersection of flesh and keratin if my cruel mother were to apply any pressure to the pad of her big toe.

 

 

 

"That was quite nice! I think, maybe, you knocked off some more of your tab! Say, seven dollars worth? Only thirty-eight dollars left! Are you ready to make some more money with that nice little body of yours? It's too bad that you couldn't have used your nice muscles to help you pay your way through college. But maybe you prefer the underside of your mother's dainty toes to dancing naked in front of a bunch of strange middle-aged women? I mean, at some point their hands would have been all over you, Mikey. You would have been treated like an object." 

 

 

 

The huge toe I lay upon arched upward and I slid from my perch, landing safely on the springy carpet fibers below. I rolled over and struggled to at least get to my knees before I attempted to stand. I could only wobble and heave with my limbs pulled weakly beneath me as I panted. Directly above me was motion and I looked up just in time to see my mother's gigantic toes spread wide. The distant face, crowning the mountain of her impossible body watched me with some concern as I tried and failed to make it to my feet.

 

 

 

"Aww. Are you having some problems there, Mikey? You shouldn't be so rude when your mother is talking to you. You had better show me some respect. You need to learn your place, I think."

 

 

 

I saw my beautiful mother smile and then her humongous big toe lowered. The carpet around me grew dark as I begged her in a weak, croaking voice. Her bulging, massive toe pad became the slowly lowering ceiling of my macabre little world. The ridged flesh lightly touched me, at first only forcing my tiny head down between my shoulders. In a mad panic I began to weakly crawl. I tried desperately to avert my painful fate, my tiny backside scrubbed against the massive toe print as I slowly fled towards the light, towards freedom from my mother's dominating, mighty big toe.

 

 

 

"Aww, that tickles! That's very cute, but you're not going to get away from me, Mike. This is exactly where you belong."

 

 

 

The immense big toe slowly drove me down into the carpet as my delicate bones popped. For a moment I was completely sealed underneath the casually applied might of my mother's toe. As it arched upwards again I was momentarily taken with it, stuck back-first to the hot, salty flesh. With a quick, painful, searing sensation my nakedness peeled away and I tumbled into a heap beneath her toes again.

 

 

 

"There, I know it's confusing, sweetie, trying to find your proper place in the world. It always is. But you'll soon get the hang of it. I want you to know, Mikey, Mommy would never treat you like those women at that nasty little club. I'm not dishonest, not like them. They objectified you, Mikey, when they should have known better. Perhaps it was a simple, harmless fantasy, but it's still dishonesty. But, you're an inch tall now and I own you. That isn't dishonest. You're mine, Mikey, you're my toy now. That isn't a harmless fantasy at all, is it?"

 

 

 

The dominating, ridged flesh of her big toe's pad lowered and dabbed gently against the carpet, feeling for me and it quickly found me again. The mighty digit jealously covered me and it hovered there, stock still, lightly keeping me trapped in place beneath it. I was trembling as the vast skin filled me once again with her overpowering body heat.

 

 

 

"You just lost your way for a little bit, that's all. Your behavior even affected our relationship, didn't it? But, you're not lost now, are you Mikey? I know right where you are and I'm not going to give up on you so easily. You failed to include me in your new life. But I've fixed that now, haven't I? Since you couldn't or wouldn't include me -even a little bit- in your life I've just rearranged a few things, that's all. Now instead of you having a say, I'll decide. I'll take the initiative. I'll be in charge. I'll be the one to include you in my life, how I see fit. But, just a little bit, Mikey, just a little bit of you! Isn't that more or less the way you wanted it, hmm? We're going to have a much more fitting relationship now, don't you think? A better one for both of us."

 

 

 

Tears clouded my eyes as I peered out from the shadowy, hot overhang of fragrant skin and across the vast expanse of carpet. I was no more than a fragile bug now. I was a vulnerable, helpless toy trapped underneath one of my own mother's pretty toes. "This is a much better arrangement, don't you think? Mommy will always know right where you are from now on. I'll be able to keep track of you, monitor your behavior with just a simple touch. Oh, and Mikey, you're always going to know right where I am, from now on! You'll never be able to ignore me ever again. I'm going to be a big part of your life from now on. A very big part, Mikey, you might even say your entire world." The air was forced out of my tiny lungs as the convex wall of rough skin slowly stroked me beneath it like some tiny, domesticated pet.

 

 

 

My mother offered me no mercy. Her big toe delicately savaged my tiny naked body beneath it. The long, slow strokes forced vast stretches of rough toe print to grate across my delicately soft shrunken skin. After only a little bit I felt as if I was about to suffer from friction burns on large areas of my body. I was forced to fight against the unstoppable digit and the deep carpet so I could roll and shield my more tender and reddened places. Finally she stopped petting me and her foot simply relaxed downward. I screamed and struggled to no avail as the oppressive weight of my mother's big toe forced me down against the carpet's rough backing.

 

 

 

I was just a bug. I was trapped completely and condemned to a very particular form of hell. All of this because my mother, Linda, had relaxed her gigantic, beautiful feet on the carpet. I was bawling and choking in the gritty dust set loose from the huge carpet filaments compressed tightly around me. I prayed. It should be obvious who or what I prayed to: the sticky, hot wall. I prayed to the smelly, ridged and immovable firmament of uncaring flesh that was everywhere beyond the wiry bundles of carpet fibers. I continued to pray and plead up into the hard, dense millimeters of my mother which touched my face and then I lay sobbing hopelessly in the darkness.

 

 

 

Suddenly the sweltering flesh was gone and I was blind in the cold, bright air. Something hard and smooth pressed into me and I was violently extricated from the carpet fibers. I lay there gasping and caught a glimpse of her grinning in the sky overhead as she withdrew one of her beautiful hands upwards and rested it upon a truly hill-like knee. The cool air renewed me and I drank it in gratefully as my skin throbbed.

 

 

 

The big toe and her second toe lowered around me and slowly closed, trapping my delicate nakedness in a crevice composed of thick, muscular walls. She seemed to savor my plight and smiled as I fought her threatening toes. I suddenly realized that her left hand had been placed squarely on her crotch. She was gently rubbing herself through her shorts. When her monstrous flesh had finally narrowed enough that her toe's ridged crevice touched all of me except for my tiny head, she smiled down at me, giggling as I clawed and kicked ferociously. I was lifted off of the carpet.

 

 

 

All of my body, up to my shoulders was trapped in hot, rough flesh. I was barely able to breathe and could not move my head. My face was locked, pointing straight up. In the sky overhead I was confronted by my mother, her mighty form skewed and distorted badly by her sheer size. The pretty middle fingers of her left hand slowly stroked her crotch through her tight shorts. I could not help but look, the activity was interposed between myself and her distant features. She had a strange look on her face as she regarded my bug-sized form clasped carefully between her beautiful toes. The cruel, blonde goddess smiled and adjusted herself on the couch.

 

 

 

"I just can't get my mind off of that dirty club. What kind of a person would go to a place like that on a regular basis? Perhaps those women were just lonely, Mikey? Hmm? Maybe they don't have such attentive sons? Or children at all? Empty nesters and divorcees with too much idle time?" Her upper body bowed lower and her face swept slowly from side to side as she studied my barely exposed head. Her middle fingertip pressed firmly into her huge hidden sex. "Then it's lucky for me that I've got you, isn't it? You'll keep me company, won't you?" She smirked.

 

 

 

The enormous toes which held me closed completely. I was crying hopelessly, vertically suspended in a hot, ridged crack. The mighty toes scrunched, bending and shortening in a curl. I cried out in pain as my tiny form was overwhelmed by bulging, immensely muscled flesh pressing into me painfully. I was wheezing as the air was forced from my lungs.

 

 

 

"I'll bet those terrible women just wanted your body. They probably thought you were sexy. Well, I'm glad I stepped in when I did. I know you think you're big and strong, honey. But, some women can be predators. Others could have enough money that they might want to make an arrangement… with you. I've seen it before. The physically unattractive or bad mannered who would have the gall to try and bribe you into becoming their boy toy. But, you're never going to end up like that. Remember, Mikey, you have a beautiful body, and there are women out there that would like to take advantage of you."

 

 

 

The beautiful long digits relaxed and slowly, gently wiggled against each other, rolling me like a piece of lint. My tiny limbs were compressed and driven into each other and into my tiny torso. I wailed in torment as my tiny head was enveloped completely in the hot and slightly sticky ridged walls which hid the enormous cruel toe muscles and springy padding. My cruel and lovely tormentors stopped and relaxed slightly. I panted heavily as I looked upwards in absolute horror, peering up out of the rounded, fleshy trench. In the sky overhead my mother was smiling gently, almost sweetly.

 

 

 

"You will never be anyone else's toy. You have too much dignity for that, don't you? You're a good boy, aren't you? I'm going to make sure you to stay that way. You're vulnerable, Mikey. I know you don't like it when I talk like that about you. But, it's true though, isn't it?"

 

 

 

The toes lowered to the carpet and slowly opened. I was plastered like a lover to my mother's long second toe.

 

 

 

"I know what you're thinking, but mom, you are a middle-aged woman, just like them! Yes, Mikey, of course, and I'm single now, too! I am a lot like them! But ask yourself, could some random middle-aged woman from that club ever satisfy you? Do you really want your innocence devoured by some old hag? Why, they don't even know a thing about you! How could they have ever satisfied you at all. Mikey? You need someone who knows what you... like. Don't you deserve that, honey? Someone who can attend to your needs?"

 

 

 

My mother leaned down and a colossal hand lowered down over me as I fought to peel my face off of her second toe. I could see her actions through my single, stinging eye which was not cruelly pasted to her. I could not free my face from her skin and I was too exhausted to protest as an elegant hand unfurled it's index finger. The fingertip traced down my trembling, heaving back before pressing against my tiny hips. My mother's thick thumb joined it, pinching the length of my tiny body.

 

 

 

I was broken free of my adhesion and ground against the pampered skin of the "trunk" of her second toe for tens of seconds. The entire front side of my tiny nakedness was softly stroked against the huge digit. The wide, fleshy pad of this long second toe invaded my tiny, trapped form as I was forced against it. First, my pitifully tiny face was ground into it and then my tiny crotch was stroked across it as she cooed reassuringly. Finally the cruel goddess dropped me into a heap between her widely spread toes. The thickly lacquered red nail tip of her index finger rolled my limp form over before nudging my tiny hard cock.

 

 

 

She grinned widely, "It looks like you prefer dancing underneath me, rather than dealing with some nasty single women at some bar, don't you? Let's do some more of that. You just work on making money. Mommy will do the rest."

 

 

 

She leaned back and brought her feet together beneath her with a thick tremor that shuddered through me painfully. Her hand went to the armrest and then my mother stood up from the couch. I managed to make it to my feet. The enormous beautiful toes wiggled in anticipation. I turned to run but I only made it a few steps before I fell heavily.

 

 

 

"Oops! What's wrong, Mikey? I thought you were pretty light on your feet. Maybe you should have been doing some cardio along with your weightlifting routine?"

 

 

 

There was a rustling, swishing behind me and as I struggled to my feet the carpet beneath me collapsed, deforming from a great weight. I yelped in surprise as a cold, slick surface pressed into me, forcibly lifting me. It was the long red toenail of one of my mother's big toes. For a moment I was sprawled against it face down. The mighty digit drove forward underneath of me as it slid across the carpet. I was catapulted into the air as the meaty toe arched upwards in a gentle flick. I crashed down, tens of feet in my scale away from her foot. The wind had been knocked from me and I lay there gasping. As I stupidly gazed upwards, stunned and reeling, my mother gracefully thundered to me. A house sized foot was planted on each side of me at some distance away. Her hands were on her hips and she studied me with a laugh as I fought to scramble up onto my feet.

 

 

 

"Oh, Mike. This is so much better than I had imagined. Here, let me show you what I mean."

 

 

 

One sexy foot raised and she slowly took a step over me. I cried out as the enormous sole sailed low over my head. As her foot impacted the living room floor I was knocked down again. I landed face down in the scratchy, dusty carpet and struggled to get back up. There was a heavy vibration that shot up through the floor coupled with the terrible sound of her enormous feet pivoting simultaneously. I was between my mother's beautiful and terrifying feet. I backpedaled awkwardly, it was almost impossible to walk upright on the carpet for me. Each step partially bent over a gray bristle the size of my wrist underfoot. These enormous bristles of carpet fibers were springy and tough to my tiny fragile form. It was difficult to find a steady footing at all, they moved underfoot and when I was not stepping on the strange bristles the hard backing of the carpet was a rough latticework of holes. It was like walking on large pieces of gravel with my sensitive, shoe pampered feet.

 

 

 

I tried as hard as I could to get away from her but the yacht-sized feet kept me between them. She was watching me, one hand still resting authoritatively on her hip, the other one pressed between her legs. As I would struggle to escape she would leisurely take one quaking step to nullify all of my effort. Those beautiful toes toyed with me, gently nudging me and tossing me to the carpet. She would arch her toes upwards and threaten to capture me beneath them as she smiled. Finally, one of her feet gracefully lifted from the carpet to deal with me. Her toes fanned out as her foot flew slowly at me. I was knocked almost senseless by a long toenail and thrown off of my feet. A split-second later her toes closed upon me, roughly clasping me from feet to head in her hot and thankfully soft flesh. I squealed as she slowly twirled her foot at the ankle.

 

 

 

"Well, that is certainly worth two dollars to me. Thirty-six dollars remaining."

 

 

 

My mother's foot sped across the carpet, out away from her. For a moment it hovered as her enormous toes squeezed into me. My breath was pushed forcefully from my body and I saw stars, the pressure exerted by the soft, hot walls around me almost robbing me of consciousness. All I could see was tanned flesh and the shiny red gloss of a nail. Her toes spread apart and I found myself plastered belly first to the side of her big toe. Above me my mother laughed.

 

 

 

"Ooh, Mikey! You know what I like, don't you? Work it!"

 

 

 

The surface I was adhered to was slowly rising and falling. I struggled and managed to peel my face free of her thick skin. She was waggling her big toe, turning it as she looked down at me, aroused and amused.

 

 

 

"Such a tiny thing, aren't you? Well, break time is over, Mikey. You've got a really big and important client to attend to."

 

 

 

I was indignantly squeezed and rolled like a piece of trash between her huge toes until I was broken free from the stinky congealed sweat. I plummeted to the carpet below.

 

 

 

I hurt and I coughed as the dust from the carpet was dislodged by my impact and it rose up and into my lungs. Something cold and hard impacted the side of my body and I was rolled over. I stared at the bottom of her prodigious big toe. She lowered it over me, but did not touch me with it.

 

 

 

"I've got ten dollars for you if you put that little mouth of yours to work. You know what I mean," my little roof of bulging toe pad flattened me gently beneath it for a moment before returning to threaten me from above, "I want to feel that little tongue. You can do that, can't you Mikey? I bet you'll like it."

 

 

 

I started crying as I lay there. After another moment she moved her toe to the side.

 

 

 

"Fine then. Maybe later. But I'm not happy that you wouldn't do it."

 

 

 

The big toe was back and it elegantly dipped over me. It pressed down on me, pushing me into the carpet fibers harshly and she was suffocating me with it as my tiny bones protested being slightly flexed.

 

 

 

"If there's one thing I've learned, it is that you are sticky. I like that. Is that from me? Do you have my sweat all over you? Goodness knows I have enough of it."

 

 

 

She slowly raised her big toe, I was once again glued to it, my tiny body stuck to the underside of her mighty appendage.

 

 

 

"Yes, nice and sticky."

 

 

 

She reached down and gently pinched me between her fingers, peeling me off of her toe's pad. I dangled upside down from my legs and I flailed as she held me in the air. My mother sat down on the carpet. She adjusted her legs, sitting almost cross legged, like a yoga pose and brought the soles of her feet together. She lowered me over her toes as the enormous appendages wiggled and slid against each other.

 

 

 

"You don't to want to lick my toes? That's okay, Mikey. I'm not done exploring that little body with them yet. I think this will be relaxing for me. Sort of peaceful."

 

 

 

The bulky flesh of the two big toes parted slightly and I was lowered into the crevice between them. My mother closed her toes and my arms were trapped, pinned into immovability between the fleshy walls. They tingled fiercely and I felt a backlash that exhibited itself as a headache as the blood from my arms encountered resistance circulating properly.

 

 

 

"You're right, those are some nice muscles. I didn't want to feel them before. I should listen to you more often!"

 

 

 

My tiny arms were tugged on and I was screaming. All I could see was her enormous index finger and thumb which gripped my legs and her smiling face beyond them. Then her toes parted once again. She lowered me a little bit more and then her torturous ridged flesh slammed shut over my arms and head as she giggled. Little by little my mother's big toes "consumed" me. Eventually her fingers let go of me, and she gently sealed me in between both of her big toe's fleshy pads, trapping me like a limp piece of lint. Little did I know things were about to get so much worse for me. She was not content to cradle me like a soft, malleable little matchstick between her colossal toes.

 

 

The hot, rough crevice where I lay wedged parted above me, pried away by an enormous fingernail. My mother's face was all I could see past my hellish confinement. She had obviously relaxed forward and had clasped, or could clasp, her ankles with her hands. An amused, dark grin crossed her face as she looked me over.

 

 

 

"I sort of thought you might fight more, with all of your bravado. Aww, I can feel your tiny sobs. Now, I want to explore that tiny body really, really well, Mikey. I want to intimately know what you're all about. Mommy thinks that you at least deserve for me to be thorough. Now, show me those big muscles you're always working on.”

 

 

 

The finger slipped free and I was entombed and suffocating once again. My mother gently and slowly rubbed her big toes against each other, crushing the air from my lungs and rolling me hellishly between the giant walls of stinky and sticky toe flesh. This was nightmarish to my tiny form. The pads of her big toes were absolutely immense and utterly dwarfed me. The vast skin of the two surfaces was backed up by incredibly firm musculature, they were so dense and roundly plump that they resembled being ground between two inflatable moonwalk rides that were filled almost to bursting with heavy, warm tar.

 

 

 

I was rolled between her immense digits in ways that robbed me of the ability to scream or even breathe. My bones flexed and my joints popped over and over again. I know that I passed out several times. Each time I awoke from my merciful interludes, my blank, rapidly reconstituting mind desperately sought to make sense exactly where I was. The human mind needs little to work with, we are more incredible than we give ourselves credit for. Each erroneous scenario could have been true, should have been true if I had been the victim of some sane, normal disaster.

 

 

 

Each time upon waking I tried to come to terms with my plight right before I ultimately remembered. Each time I was wrong. Unfortunately, it wasn't earthquake, I was not trapped under a building, these were not the bottoms of life rafts, or massive weather balloons. I had not been in an accident involving an elephant or elephants, nor was this a collapsing agricultural hot-house. This was not some gigantic industrial mixing hopper for gum arabic, or sap from a plantation of rubber trees, these were not fancifully painted cylindrical eighteen-wheeler trailer tanks designed to hold milk or natural gas or even toluene. I was not the victim of parade floats or fanciful parade balloons, diseased whales, or adobe home construction. All of this was sane, though most of it was highly implausible. But perhaps I would have survived. Perhaps I would have been able to continue my life afterward, returning to the greater world where I belonged.

 

 

 

Each time I awoke I worked it out, I realized quickly what held me and squeezed me like a tiny piece of fugitive polymer clay. I was now merely a plaything. It was between my mother's colossal big toes where I had become trapped, and she wasn't done with me.

 

 

 

Far above me I heard my immense mother laugh, “I told you, Mike, your athletic body would feel velvety soft to me. It does. I like it.”

 

 

 

Her enormous toes parted and I was stuck, face up, right in the middle of the gently flattened egg shape of the monstrous big toe's pad. I was completely devastated. She smiled at me, her face was held as low as she could, the enormous blue eyes twinkled cheerfully as they looked me over.

 

 

 

"How do you like this venue? I think that the bottom of my big toe is a bit more spacious than that little dive's stage to you now."

 

 

 

An index finger unfolded and lowered down next to me. My panic-inducing parent idly stroked the tip of her fingernail across the sticky, glittering grooves of her toe print.

 

 

 

"Just think, Mikey, you don't have to worry about getting cold at all despite being naked on this stage. It's so nice and warm, isn't it? It's not slick at all, just nice and rubbery."

 

 

 

A beautiful finger lowered onto me as my mother smiled. She slowly crushed the air out of my pitiful lungs. I cried out hoarsely as my breath was forced from me. I was trapped between two unmerciful expanses of terrible flesh as my tiny contorted face was inadvertently shielded by the underside of her fingernail. The digit lifted and softly trapped each tiny twitching limb, feeling each of them before it retreated.

 

 

 

"Well, those sure are some nice muscles, Mike. You should be proud, I know it took a lot of work to get that big."

 

 

 

She bit her lip as she slowly arched the toe I was glued to.

 

 

 

"There is more to you than just nice muscles, isn't there, Mikey? You've got a new talent, don't you, sweetie? Something you've been hiding from me. I want to know what you've been doing at college. It's my right, isn't it? Shouldn't I expect something for all that tuition money I forked out on your behalf?"

 

 

 

She was smiling as her index finger did an excellent imitation of a backhoe's arm. Her fingertip's nail pressed downwards into the bulging expanse of toe flesh before gently scooping between my sticky body and her sizzling toe print. I was torn free and tumbled limply across the dense hill of her upturned big toe.

 

 

 

"You had better hold on there, little bug. This stage is too small. Mommy thinks you deserve something a bit bigger for your debut."

 

 

 

I managed to roll over and cling to the sticky ridges of the bulging toe flesh I lay upon. The immense foot shifted all around me as my mother adjusted it, resting it sole upwards and level against her folded thigh.

 

 

 

"There we go! Why, that's an absolutely huge stage, isn't it, Mikey? Nothing but the best for my son, the stripper."

 

 

 

The pad of the big toe beneath me hardened as it scrunched upwards, taking me with it. I was entirely overwhelmed by an index finger and thumb. The hot flesh collided with me and became inescapable walls as they closed. My tiny, fragile bones protested as I was plucked from my mother's toe. A moment later I found myself gently laid in the middle of the colossal sole.

 

 

 

Directly above me my mother's upper body towered, heavily foreshortened by my own pitiful field of view. From within the ocean of swaying, silvery blonde hair the distant, beautiful face was smug and satisfied.

 

 

 

"It's too bad that I didn't prepare music for you, Mikey. You're just going to have to wing it, I'm afraid."

 

 

 

Behind me the frightening toes spread wide before rubbing together. The flesh beneath me shifted as the tremendous tendons and musculature drove the huge extremities. I was tossed to and fro limply and she was smiling ghoulishly at the sight of me. A beautiful hand detached itself from her thigh and sped through the air. I was engulfed in it's shadow and the index finger unfolded. I was prodded by the long red nail expectantly.

 

 

 

"Dance," she whispered with a hiss, her blue eyes positively glowing with an evil mirth.

 

 

 

I rolled over and gathered my limbs beneath me. It was hard to see through my own tears. The index fingertip hovered in front of me, upturned. I used the underside of her fingernail to steady myself on my elbows as I fought to get my exhausted legs to hold my weight. As I dragged myself upwards with my mother's effortless assistance I wondered how large a contact lens made for her would be to me. The bowl of a birdbath? No, too small. Perhaps one of those institutional-sized woks one occasionally sees in the behind-the-scenes footage of a thriving Chinese restaurant? That would be about the size and definitely the right shape. I could lay entirely on the end of this pretty digit and perhaps I could awkwardly curl into one of those enormous and almost outlandish cooking implements. I felt sick at the thought of either of those things.

 

 

 

"That's it, Mikey, fight through that pain. You don't need to be in top form. Just dance for Mommy. Just a little bit. I think I deserve a private show, don't you? I want to see you work that nice little body."

 

 

 

I was up on my own two feet and the enormous finger pulled away from me tentatively before folding upwards to join it's well hydrated sisters above me. I stood there sobbing, just a little thing perched precariously amongst the graceful curves of my cruel mother's high arched foot. Beneath me, through the dense skin throbbed her awe-inspiring pulse which I could feel through the soles of my tiny feet. I blinked back tears as the huge being lowered even further in a tensed flex of her spine.

 

 

"I said to dance, Mikey," she was grinning and her hot breath rustled through my hair as it surrounded me. I could smell and even taste the inside of my mother's cavernous mouth, "or would you rather spend more time in between my pretty toes? I like squeezing you in there. Mmm."

 

 

 

As I began to weakly shuffle her face lit up cheerfully. My sloppy dancing's movement actually helped ease my aching body. As the beautiful colossus suppressed her giggling she fished one of her hands into a cramped shorts pocket. She slowly coaxed something that had been stored on her hip, careful to move slowly enough as to not pitch me to my death on the carpet not so far below.

 

 

 

"I just remembered, maybe Mommy does have some music for you, Mikey! Very appropriate music too! Let me just-"

 

 

 

My all-powerful parent ignored me for a moment as she worked the controls on her monolithic phone. Then she sighed with satisfaction as she tapped it. There was a loud, distorted sound blaring from the black rectangle which hovered in front of her face. It was music, some terrible recording of mindless, beat driven techno. I synced myself with the beat and as I listened it dawned on me; I knew this, there were the distorted chants from a crowd. This had happened a mere two weeks ago. This had been recorded when I was up on stage at the strip club. I drew in a shaky breath and my chin dimpled with a frustrated, stomach spasming heartsickness.

 

 

 

"Look at that! You look so proud of yourself, Mikey! Do you want to see?"

 

 

 

The gigantic slab of phone plummeted from her distant face and hovered next to the ball of her foot. There I was, grinning and pumping. The footage was grainy and was filmed above a sea of chaotic silhouettes, shaky footage from a phone thrust above the heads of the crowd. I dropped to my knees and wept as my captor angled the phone so that she too could view it.

 

 

 

"I was shocked when I first saw this footage, truth be told. But then I realized that I liked looking at you like this! You looked good at such a tiny size. But Mikey, the footage is just so grainy! I could barely recognize you! And there are certain… parts... of you that I couldn't really see at all!"

 

 

 

Her index finger tapped it's nail against the screen right over my anomaly-rich doppelgänger. The footage became paused with her touch. She ran her fingernail possessively over the blurry form.

 

 

 

"There is that little face. Aww. But, what's right here? See, I just can't tell. It could be anything, really. But, now I've got the genuine article. There is more to you than just some nice muscles, isn't there, Mikey? There is teeny-tiny bit more to that nice little body, right? More for me to examine? It's just a hunch, I know. But I swear there's a tiny shadow in the video that hasn't been accounted for thus far."

 

 

 

My smirking mother pinched me gently between her fingertips and I rocketed upwards just beyond the towering badlands formation of her body. The enormous features of her beautiful face rolled downwards, past me. I was raised to directly in front of her blue eyes. The impossibly huge index finger and thumb which held me in a pinch adjusted slightly. The pressure of the bulging ridged walls of her finger pads changed and I thought my tiny torso might burst for a moment as my tiny back was forcibly arched. My tiny head was almost enclosed, almost trapped in the hot vice of the enormous pinch. I screamed as I struggled uselessly, but my mother's iron flesh had deeply mired my tiny limbs in her grip's crevices. Her mouth twitched into a little smile for a moment as she heard my cries of pain. She held aloft her phone for a moment and referenced it, checking between the paused footage and I.

 

 

 

"Hmm. Tiny little face, those precious feet on the ends of those fragile little legs. But there's that shadow again. What is that? What exactly were you sharing with those women that you aren't sharing with your own mother? Hmm?" She put her phone down onto the carpet, freeing up her hand.

 

 

 

The index finger of my captor's other hand tentatively hovered closer to me. Her flawless fingernail slid between my tiny legs and push them apart. I kicked and struggled but I was unable to gather full breaths in her grip. I tired quickly.

 

 

 

"Aww. It's okay! I won't crush you, I promise. Oh, are you being shy? Where is it, Mikey?"

 

 

 

My impossibly huge mother chuckled under her breath as my tiny hard cock was exposed by another adjustment of the pinching fingertips. The adjustment tightened the vast walls of ridged skin against my tiny torso. Now almost I could not breathe. I was slowly tilted and turned in front of her eyes as she studied me. The colossal blue eyes were glittering mischievously as they focused on what stuck out proudly from between my legs.

 

 

 

"Oh, I think I see it! There it is! Aww, it's just so precious!"

 

 

 

The long red fingernail of her free index finger ran across the underside of my penis. The five foot diameter fingertip hung there, holding still just beyond my tiny body. My penis bobbed and slapped uselessly against the tip of her fingernail as she lifted it. I watched as the vast wall of that intimately familiar face hovering just beyond my naked helpless form shifted into a playful smirk, studying my tiny cock.

 

 

 

"I should have known! It was your teeny, tiny penis, wasn't it? Well, it's really too bad that you didn't get to use this little thing more while you were out in the world away from me. I don't think I'll have much use for it. It's such a shame, too. Hmm. To you I have miles of skin, don't I? You know, Mikey, I might let you touch me with that tiny thing if you could find a spot! You know, for when you grow desperate. As long as you ask me nicely, of course. I'm not going to just let some rude little bug crawl around on me. Maybe there's a place where that whole tiny body of yours wouldn't get trapped? I'm not sure, but maybe Mommy has a crevice small enough for it? Maybe you could find a tiny crease? I don't know, how about on one of Mommy's knuckles? Oh, you probably wouldn't like that, would you? There has got to be other places you can stick that teeny-tiny thing, don't you think?"

 

 

 

The beautiful fingertip batted my manhood around like a toy. Just beyond this triviality my mother's brobdingnagian face which eclipsed my view of anything else at all was still smiling. This was too much for me to bear and I began sobbing.

 

 

 

"It is very… cute. Isn't it? It's just… so tiny! This is so much better than just having that grainy footage to look over. Aww! I just cannot resist it! I wonder... Hmm. Hold still, Mikey."

 

 

 

My mother's mighty thumb joined the index finger which was humiliating me as she grinned widely. The colossal pinching digits came very close to me. She squinted and held her breath in concentration. I began shrieking as the opposing tips of her huge nails tentatively approached my crotch from several different angles, trying to find the perfect path. "Stay still, Mikey," she whispered, "there now, good boy."

 

 

 

I was overwhelmed by my mothers immense red nails. The smooth, thick edges of them pressed coldly against my belly and chest repeatedly. My breath was violently ejected from my tiny torso more than once. My left thigh suffered a slight friction burn as the entire width of her immense thumbnail's edge slid forcefully across it as she prepared to withdraw her vast digits for another attempt. It was as if my mother was trying to capture a little bit of defiant thread poking out of a seam in her clothing. Hot breath streamed over me from her Brobdingnagian nose and she narrowed her eyes. "Ah! That's it! If I can just…" I whimpered as her flawless fingernails finally closed with a cautious slowness around my infinitesimal cock.

 

 

 

Past the huge index fingertip which was forcing itself upon me, the incredible living wall of my mother's face grinned, exposing perfect teeth the size of my torso. I was weakly screaming and struggling as the cold, hard tips of her colossal red nails daintily held fast my tiny captured manhood. I blinked stupidly in a shocked daze, lightheaded from my futile efforts while unable to take full breaths. I was truly just a bug to her. Just an indulgence for this vast being's trivial pleasure, with no dignity or say in my own fate.

 

 

 

"Aww. Just look at that tiny thing! Though, I suppose Mikey… I guess proportionally… Hmm. I suppose it's quite big." Her huge face came in even closer, until I was confronted by a single blue eye and the side of her nose just beyond my contorted and trapped form. The tremendous shiny globe flitted back and forth, I could hear the great bulk of it sliding across the wet surfaces of her inner eyelids with a muted slither. The surreal, iridescent blue musculature of the iris expanded as the black well of pupil focused on my vulnerable privates that she held with near-infinite delicacy.

 

 

 

My titanic parent whispered conspiratorially to me, "it's really very big, isn't it? Not like your sonofabitch father and his... well, he was entirely an underwhelming prick." The vast eyelids surrounding my mother's alarming eye crinkled in mirth and the glistening wall of flesh confronting me shook slightly as she fought to contain a giggle. "But not you, you're hung like a horse! Otherwise I wouldn't be able to catch your teeny-tiny cock between my nails at all."

 

 

 

My very real and visceral fear of castration caused me to plead with her, "please don't hurt me! Oh God, no! Please stop!” I just knew, I could see my own wounding unfold in my panicking mind with a vicious clarity. I knew that those beautiful, mighty digits would pull away from my waist with a bit of my own bleeding flesh clenched limply between the perfect fingernails. My tiny severed cock. Like a blood spot fished out of an egg yolk. Like a smashed gnat. Like something limp and pale pried out from between my mother's vast teeth. Like a pimple's discharge which would stick wetly to her nail as she would bring it up to one vast blue eye to examine it.

 

 

 

My pleading ended in frightened cries as I unwisely sought to thrash against the unrelenting and gigantic cushions of flesh clamped against my painfully twisted form. All I managed to accomplish was a grotesque, faltering pumping of my trapped penis into the red lacquered crack. The black disk of my mother's pupil precisely slid and centered on me. She was watching me, fascinated.

 

 

 

"Aww. Now I see why you were so popular at that club! I wonder, how many of those women fantasized about this, do you think? It's such a thick, muscular cock, isn't it, Mikey? It's huge! Well, maybe not to me, I guess. It's like a teeny-tiny splinter. Maybe more like a grain of rice, hmm? I know you won't like this, but I might even go as far as to describe your cock as pretty. Don't feel bad about that though, you're just so tiny now. Oh, Mikey! There is absolutely no need to be embarrassed about this! You will never see any of those women ever again. The only woman you'll ever have to please from now on is me, and I like this little toy. I'm sorry, I guess the word "toy" is a bit non-specific, hmm? I'm talking about your teeny tiny cock this time, not you, Mikey. But, what good are toys if someone doesn't play with them once in a while? Even teeny-tiny ones. Especially teeny-tiny ones."

 

 

 

I dragged in a shuddering, panicked breath, certain in the knowledge that my mother would accidentally castrate me, but just then her colossal fingertips withdrew. The hand tormenting me disappeared with a strong gust of wind, dropping away from where it had hovered in front of her vast face. I followed it a moment later, plummeting quickly to rendezvous once again with it, now in the form of a cupped palm. The huge thumb and finger parted and my sweaty, cramped body peeled free from her thumb pad. I fell like a sack of potatoes to the dense swells of flesh awaiting me. I could only lay there, helplessly gasping as my muscles ached from the sudden onslaught of fresh, oxygenated blood freely flowing into them.

 

 

 

"I'm going to need some magnification," my mother's face lit up wryly, "maybe not the words you would like to hear, right, Mikey? Well, not like that."

 

 

 

The squat black plastic cylindrical body of the jeweler's loupe flew upwards and it was carefully fitted to my mother's right eye, "There, now I'll be able to properly see that handsome body and all of it's tiny delights. I think we need some music, don't you, Mikey? Some... appropriate music."

 

 

 

A moment later the distorted audio of my stripper routine footage blared from my mother's smart phone. Her vast face tilted away from me for a moment as she dropped the volume of it's playback to a less obnoxious level. "There, that's much better, right? Something to put you in the right mood while you're naked and the center of attention." My mother's face closed the distance to her palm. I was cowering as the strangely grim jeweler's monocle lowered over me, like some sort of an oversized, old-fashioned death ray from a black and white science fiction movie. The thick, silvery tresses of my mother's hair tumbled, spilling into shining curtains which surrounded her cupped hand.

 

 

 

The oily, pore strewn wall of my mother's right cheek and the bridge of her nose were almost touching the curving perimeter of her palm like a gleaming sandstone cliff. But the centerpiece of my attention was the vivid blue jewel of her magnified eye looming over me. I wanted nothing more than to hide from her monstrous stare. "Aww, just look at that," she whispered, "that's definitely worth the entrance fee."

 

 

 

A line of huge knuckles drifted up, like a mythic sea serpent's back, occupying the air a bit beyond my luxurious prison. A colossal index finger uncurled from there and it's fingertip glided slowly across the ample, seamed flesh. My anxiety finally took control and I tried to roll to my stomach to scramble away. I was instantly dominated by my mother's digit which carefully lowered, coming to rest on my defenseless form. My tiny head twitched as the air was slowly forced from me by the oppressive pillar of flesh.

 

 

 

"Ah, ah ah! That's just stage fright, Mikey, everyone gets it. I know that right now you feel like you're... ahem... under a microscope," my tormentor's cheek beneath the monocle bulged as she grinned widely while ferocious eddies of exhaled breath gusted across her gargantuan cupped hand, "that's only natural. Soon this will all simply become routine. Well, now that I've gone to all of this trouble, I think that it's only fair that I finally get to relax and enjoy some entertainment."

 

 

 

The huge fingertip lifted free of me but it continued to hover there. It was tilted at an angle which allowed my mother's flawless nail access to all of my naked front side and unfortunately for me, to stare down the great length of her digit's impossible, bulky presence. I couldn't fight her. I could be casually crushed to jelly beneath a single digit. Even handling me at all risked the breakage of my tiny bones. The curling of her colossal, flawless fingers could be the accidental trapping and mangling of my slender limbs or torso in the leathery, stout vices of her joint's crevices. I was trembling with exhaustion as I gazed at the glossy blue monster regarding me greedily from just beyond the crystal lens.

 

 

 

For an instant everything inside of me grew quiet, as if compressed under a massive tension. I felt that I had a choice to make in this moment- somehow make it through the impending madness, unaffected, like a knife shearing effortlessly through water, or buckle and break- perhaps permanently. My potential madness had a name: fragility- I was completely vulnerable; bones like spun sugar, skin like tissue paper, my insufficient flesh only as resilient as perhaps the softest of cheese, trapped in a hell where my own resentful parent was omnipotent. I was exposed and alone in a world filled with perversely godlike biology, purpose-built with the only intent to crush and stifle tiny things such as myself: fingers, toes, faces and whole bodies made of cruelly playful flesh as dense and as strong as steel.

 

 

 

But there was really no choice to make. It wasn't a choice. A comatose toy or a conscious toy? I would still be her toy. I realized that I had pondered how to overcome the wrong challenge. The proper question was: how shall I become a person once again if I do not die? I took a deep, calming breath and let the assaultive reality of being my mother's plaything wash back over me. Madness was not a choice left to me, it was out of my control. I could only try to cope and survive. Was this really that much worse than the hardships that others of my species had always been forced to endure throughout history's seemingly endless wars and calamity? There was no barbed wire here, nor saber tooth cats or even volcanoes. My horror and suffering were far from unique, and perhaps even farther from death.

 

 

 

Had I already gone mad?

 

 

 

"This jeweler's loupe is really amazing, Mikey!" my cruel mother whispered over the crappy dance music. The fingertip came in closer and just beyond the rounded, bright hump of nail and middle knuckle I could see my own ghostly reflection in the lens. "It's almost like you are normal sized and right in front of me! I feel like I almost need to remind myself that you aren't really, that it is perfectly fine to look at you naked and to touch you. My goodness, such a sexy body. Let me just examine you a little bit, make sure that I haven't been too rough on you already."

 

 

 

The pretty digit carefully lowered and it's massive nail gently pinned me beneath of it, hard across my chest. My mother chuckled, apparently because of the sight of her effortless, callous imposition on my tiny body. The edge of her colossal fingernail slowly skimmed to and fro across my naked form as I fought to stay calm beneath of it's menacing presence.

 

 

 

"What's this?" My left thigh was stroked and then compressed painfully, right in the middle of it by a light touch of her long nail's edge, "You have a bruise here, not too bad though, hmm." The bulky pad of her fingertip carefully lowered onto the entire front of my body and with a tiny sideways pivot the vast ridges harsh traction effortlessly rolled me onto my stomach.

 

 

 

I instinctively struggled to move, to adjust myself on the seamed bulge of hot flesh. My mother's reaction was instantaneous, the edge of her nail gently pinned my entire torso lengthwise to her palm, "Hold still, little bug, or I might accidentally hurt you. Neither one of us wants that, do we?" A moment later she resumed her examination. My right shoulder was driven into a dense bulge of her palm's flesh by her exploring fingernail. "I thought there would be even more bruises than this. You are red though, all over." Of course I was! "Oh, just look at that sexy bum. No wonder you were an audience favorite." My ass was prodded and stroked for a moment before that stifling battering ram rolled me onto my back once again.

 

 

 

The three inch thick edge of my mother's colossal fingernail slid in beneath of my chin, touching my neck like some grotesquely embellished guillotine. A low, tormented moan escaped my throat as I peered down the bowed length of lacquered nail and into her baleful, magnified eye.

 

 

 

"Goodness! What a look! You should know by now that I'm not going to hurt you, Mikey. Mommy just wants to play a little bit with her new toy." The tip of her fingernail touched my tiny face as she spoke, it was not dissimilar to an entire small car lowering over me whilst attached to a crane as it's front bumper grazed my pitiful skull. "You wouldn't deny a client, would you? Because I've paid for this private session, haven't I?" The edge of her nail caught me under my chin and raised my tiny face, "I'd say that I have paid dearly for this opportunity."

 

 

 

The immaculate fingernail pulled back from my head and it ran down my chest. "Maybe I'll save some face in front of my friends when they watch the local news someday very soon," my hard cock was nudged by the cold, hard edge of her fingernail, "you know, when they see your inevitable missing persons report. I greatly dislike receiving the pity of others, Mikey, even from lifelong friends." My thighs were compressed beneath the exploring nail as it ran slowly up to my crotch, "You've reduced me to this, to such an undignified position. You've made me pitiful." The nail's thick burnished edge lifted my diminutive balls as her exaggerated eye took note of them, "But, in return for that, I've reduced you to something as well, haven't I? Deny it as much as you'd like, but, you have always wanted to be here- just like this, my tiny bug." The flawless nail pressed my penis against my stomach, "I think that you've been hard ever since I shrank you."

 

 

 

The fingertip gave one final nudge to my cock before it slipped away, off of my mother's palm. I heard something, a deep, sharp swishing noise that lasted only a second. "There, that should do it," my mother's index finger was back, the tip of her fingernail was coated with thick, bubble impregnated saliva which clung to it in a shining, messy clot. "you're going to be nice and cooperative, aren't you, Mikey? Wouldn't you just hate to end up underneath of mommy's pretty thumb again? Hmm? Then again, you might just like that, I know that I would."

 

 

 

I shivered as the hot, surprisingly heavy saliva was deftly deposited with a careful touch. It oozed onto my entire crotch. Bubbles the size of my fists popped, throwing syrupy tendrils across my chest and face as I flinched and cried out in surprise. The vengeful goddess deafened me with a rumbling giggle as I sputtered and clawed helplessly beneath the vast plastic tunnel housing her enormous eye.

 

 

 

"Oh, Mikey! You've got a little something on your face, no, no," the frightening index finger folded away as her pinky unfurled over me with a gust of wind. The size difference in what was now threatening me was not much consolation at all. Her fingertip's pad lowered onto my head and chest, gently pressing the upper half of my body into her hot, ridged skin, "let me take care of that for you. It's no trouble, plus, if you haven't figured this out yet, I am completely enamored with the idea of touching you." I fought to not struggle as my mother's smallest finger lapped away the strands of saliva with unhurried movements, "besides, isn't this what you deserve?"

 

 

 

"There, is that better? Good." Her little finger tucked itself away as her index finger returned. "Now, let's see, if I can just..." The beautiful digit dipped carefully over me, looming ominously as my balls and cock became instantly plastered to the tip of her nail with a tiny movement.

 

 

 

"Very nice."

 

 

 

My hellish captor slid her nail against my cock in a vertical stroke. I was slightly lifted off of her palm in the upstroke of her subtle motion and I yelped in surprise. Her saliva pulled at my encased junk and astonishingly this did not feel bad at all. Another stroke and again I was lifted, but taken a bit further this time. Her saliva slackened against my weight, but too slowly, like a great warm slab of taffy. My rigid body tilted wildly and my stomach became mired in the hot mess of it. I slid downward onto my ass in a straight-legged sit, coating my chest in her slime as my torso was sucked against her nail. "Well... really? God, Mikey," she muttered incredulously. Her fingertip lifted and I flailed as I was dragged upwards with it once again. My tiny arms grew heavy as the saliva glued them to her nail. I tried to kicked my legs but it was already too late. In just a second or two of struggling I had become a pathetic sight, just a heaving bundle of spit and tiny, anchored limbs pasted to the tip of her finger.

 

 

 

The fingertip was leveled in front of the monocle and my mother took in my absurd state with a sigh. "You're not going to ruin this for me, Mikey. You had better figure out how to get off of my nail or I'll do it myself." The finger lowered to her palm, and the vast digit rested there as I fought to free myself from the insidious surface tension. The loupe edged in slightly closer as the panic-inducing fingers of her palm curled partially over, apparently blocking out some sort of glare interfering with her viewpoint. As I dragged and heaved my naked, glistening body feebly across the top of her immaculate fingertip I just knew that she was relishing this spectacle. I finally leveraged myself free and fell away back to her palm, now completely covered in my own mother's rapidly cooling saliva.

 

 

 

The beautiful fingertip prodded at my panting form, forcing me onto my back. "What took you so long? Are all of those muscles just for decoration?" As it withdrew from me I was taken with it, dragged with a jerk across the deep seams of her hot flesh by my saliva-coated legs. My mother's digit lifted slightly and I was partially hauled up with it before she relented. A blast of spent breath punctuated her irritation while gravity slowly dragged me free from her colossal anatomy, "You're just so fucking pitiful now. You're acting like my saliva is some, I don't know, some sort of an industrial glue. Hold still, bug." My colossal mother's remedy was to gently wipe away the saliva clinging to me with the punishing pad of her digit.

 

 

 

Once my mother finished her crushing, stamina-sapping caresses I lay there, fighting to catch my breath through aching ribs. Above me my mother's great thumb swung in to assist her index finger in the removal of it's collected saliva. The smoldering blue iris beyond the monocle stared at me enigmatically as the mighty fingertips preened one another over my body. I could not tell if this was theater meant to intimidate me or merely a thoughtless bodily task my mother was performing.

 

 

 

In a moment the manicured behemoths had finished their slow dance and the plump thumb slid away. As I sat up, my mother's index fingertip lowered, "Ah, ah ah!" It's nail greeted me with a nudge and I was forced onto my back. It pinned me there, against my chest. "I'm not done with you, Mikey." The fingertip slid back subtly, dragging the fingernail's edge across my stomach until it found my cock once again, "Ahh, there it is. Who knew that examining a bug could be so difficult? I certainly didn't."

 

 

 

"Now then," the edge of her fingernail slowly caressed me, the light from the bay windows danced liquid and white across the bright red polish. "That isn't so bad, is it?" the titaness rumbled. For a moment my mind recalled the cinematography of high end car commercials. Perhaps that wasn't so strange after all- a camera panning slowly across the lustrously deep paint, across the graceful, almost sensual contours of masterfully sculpted bodywork. But some nice paint and curves was where this comparison abruptly ended, where it fell right on it's face in failure.

 

 

 

I frowned, my mind forced itself to wander as my mother's finger had it's way with me. I didn't want to end up crazy, just as I didn't want to die. But that was really the trick, wasn't it? What little harm that I had thoughtlessly caused my mother had been avenged in the first thirty seconds after she had shrank me. Merely gazing upon her, hundreds of feet high while still sitting in a chair from the point of view of my own abandoned clothing had been enough. She was crazy, or she had been yearning to unleash this impossible transformational power that she somehow possessed upon another human being for a long time now- and that was crazy in a far more sinister manner.

 

 

 

The beautiful fingertip paused for a moment, "this really is an adorable cock, Mikey. It's just... so tiny, obviously. But I like that. I like seeing it in comparison to me." The edge of her nail ran up my shaft. "I'm really enjoying you, in your new, rightful context. Maybe we should take another family photo soon, obviously because things have changed? What do you think? It could be portrait-style, you know, with my arms resting on something, a blanket, the back of a chair, some railing maybe. You could be holding on for dear life around one of my little fingers, how about that? Or maybe I should wear a sundress and some pretty sandals against some sort of a nice backdrop, like a waterfall? A full body shot? Yes, that would be perfect, it would definitely show off my nice legs!"

 

 

 

The colossal digit sped up it's effort, sliding the cold edge of it's nail against the entirety of my shaft, like some immense beast bowed and lapping water from a stream. "With digital camera resolutions what they are today, your face could show up in a full-sized picture like that, you know, even if I tucked you deep into a crevice between two of my pretty toes. I might be able to even send that one to relatives. No one would be the wiser, no one would notice that you're even there, except for us."

 

 

 

The blue orb trapped in it's ominous tunnel gazed down on me, it almost seemed to be primarily what was dominating my naked body. I could almost feel a terrible weight upon me through it's coldly amused stare. "You're simply one of my failures, Mikey, just one of those unfortunate things that I've managed to halt in mid-catastrophe. Lemons to lemonade, you know. You've gone from a tall, handsome young man with so much potential to my very own miniature sex worker right in the palm of my hand. How does it feel to be ever so delicately fucked by one of your own mother's fingers? You must feel like a proper bug, I suppose. Well, you are, and you're my bug."

 

 

 

Despite my monstrous mother's biting words I was still hard. Despite the fact that there was no flesh to feel the warm weight of in an embrace, just the lacquer-hardened, slick keratin of a nightmarish fingernail I was hard. Really, it felt not so much like rape, but more like the caress of some mundane object, like the ludicrous, amorous advances of a storage barrel, a thick plastic dumpster lid, a patio table. But that total physical disconnect was overridden completely by what my eyes saw playing out right in front of them. Because of that, it was only a few moments before I came.

 

 

 

Regardless of my mother's close proximity and the jeweler’s loupe I was not sure if she realized what I had done. My cum might as well have been microscopic to her, but I was wrong. With a final caress her finger relented. The index finger's nail was examined in front of the lens and she giggled deafeningly at my cum splatter. The exquisite digit returned to hover above me as it was joined by her frightening thumb. The colossal fingertips elegantly reached for me in a pinch as I lay there panting, quickly obstructing my view of her face with their massive presences, "Hmm. Now, I have a question for you."

 

 

 

The edges of her gigantic nails touched down onto her palm, one on each side of me. The expanses of ridged skin on the very tips of her index finger and thumb inadvertently drove my body downwards beneath of them. The colossal nails precisely closed against me, from the sides of my thighs to my shoulders and I struggled to even cry out, "Please don't do that! Oh God! Not with your fingernails! You're going to break my tiny bones! You're going to- Mommy! Momm-" My pleading was cut off sharply as she gently compressed my naked body into an awkward shape. I wheezed as I was lifted off the flesh of her palm, delicately clasped between her nails. I writhed as I was held up in front of the terrible lens, the tremendous digits slowly turning and tilting as she looked at me. "Now tell me, which do you think is smaller by now, Mikey? What do you think? Is it your little cock, or your dignity?"

 

 

 

The terrible digits lowered back to her palm and they spread apart. I fell from them like a rag doll, shuddering in pain as I groaned. The lens lowered and came in closer to me than it had ever done before. The beautiful thumb and index fingertip crowded in on the opposite side from it, coming almost together in a pinching posture as they loomed over me. I force myself to stay perfectly still as the tips of her nails lowered onto my hips and carefully captured my tiny penis between them. I could only lay there and tremble with my eyes clamped tightly shut. "Ahh, there it is! Such a pretty little thing… It's so red now, isn't it? Just look at all of that cum and those swollen veins! Goodness, you certainly do look just like a porn star now, don't you?"

 

 

 

My tiny shaft was callously examined and then my balls were gently caught between the cold, smooth surfaces. "I'd bet that you've got more shots left in these adorable little walnuts, don't you? Someday I might want to find out just how much you can hold in there. I've heard that semen is good for the skin, Mikey. Hmm, maybe you could give Mommy a cuticle treatment? Of all people, you should know how much time I spend keeping my body beautiful. I'm always spending money on the latest products. Hmm, you're only probably capable of doing a single finger or toe in an entire day, but that's fine with me- we'll make the time, Mikey. Mother's Day is right around the corner, you know, and obviously that's going to be a very important day for a bug in your situation. I think that, for you in particular, this will be a very appropriate form of worship."

 

 

 

After a few moments my vulnerable junk was released. I drew in trembling breaths of relief. I was unscathed, my delicate anatomy mercifully intact. The lovely fingertips carefully played with me for the pleasure of the lustrous blue swirl lurking just beyond the crystalline lens. I stared at it blankly as my mother used her fingernails like unwieldy and massive tweezers on my exhausted, limp body. She treated me like an object, like some sort of a diminutive novelty that she had just purchased. Honestly, I really wasn't much more than that in my fatigued state, just a trembling and slender plaything that had completely surrendered to her will and godlike physical presence. I am sure she wanted me to scream, to struggle like I had just done, but I had nothing left in me.

 

 

 

I was delicately squeezed and prodded by the giant fingertips and then I was partially lifted up by one arm to hang in front of the horrible lens. I had to suffer through my legs being played with and then my tiny face being gently touched. My delicate torso was captured in her nail tip's massive, glassy pinch and she repeatedly squeezed the air from my lungs while she watched silently. After a time, my mother's cruelty seemed to have been sated enough and her merciless, perfect digits lifted away.

 

 

 

My mother's huge face rose upwards as it left, causing a howling wind in it's wake. The jeweler's monocle was promptly removed and she grinned down on me. Her enormous index fingertip tapped next to my prone form, sending quakes rolling through her palm's flesh, "Get up. On your feet, bug."

 

 

 

I complied, weakly fighting my way up against the gentle swaying of her hand and the swells and seams of her plush flesh. The index finger of still hovered there, next to me above her palm. I watched as her other hand rotated at the wrist, the vast fist capsizing like a tugboat. The now upturned index finger dropped to her palm.

 

 

 

“Well, Mikey, go ahead, crawl up on my fingertip. Don't worry, I won't drop you.”

 

 

 

I slowly dragged myself up onto the immense digit. I was worn-out, wrecked like I had ran a marathon and then had been promptly beaten up after I crossed the finish line. The beautiful digit slowly raised towards her face and she looked me over as a smirk crossed her enormous mouth.

 

 

 

“You look just like you belong there, Mikey. Like some beautiful little tree frog. But you're no frog are you, little boy?”

 

 

 

I noticed her savoring my sudden exhausted concern as her colossal thumb trapped me beneath of it against her fingertip in a pinch. Her other hand rose and came close. My captor ran the nail of her littlest finger gently across the end of my tiny cock as she touched the tip of her tongue to her top lip. The dregs of my cum and her own saliva left a tiny wet trail, even more lustrous than her glossy red polish. I felt like I was being molested by a surfboard.

 

 

 

My skyscraper sized mother withdrew her little finger and I watched as she examined her well manicured digit, turning it in the light. I was appraised with a smirk shot down the towering height of her foreshortened face. My mother gently touched my head and chest with her pinky finger's nail. She was smiling as she deliberately smeared the cum-laced saliva across me. It mingled with my tears.

 

 

 

My mother stoically appraised me for a moment, twisting her hand back and forth. "I'm sure there are a lot of women who would pay good money to touch your body," She remarked, as her grip on me lessened considerably. Her pinching digits swept up from below me and carefully caught one of my tiny arms between her nails. I was too devastated to react and allowed her to tug my limp arm out away from where it had been nestled against my chest. "I feel very lucky, honored in fact." My limb was discarded and she watched it dangle uselessly with mild amusement as she nudged it.

 

 

 

The dense pads of my mother's colossal thumb and index finger tips which held me softly pivoted closed around me and I was being swallowed by them completely. I whimpered weakly up at the smiling face as the ridged, unyielding flesh shut against me from both sides. I was instantly compressed, locked in a terrible position. As the breath was forced from me and my bones creaked I hoarsely wailed. I was nearly crushed, unable to take a breath, unable to move. I was left drooling and shaking in a tomb composed of my own mother's flesh.

 

 

 

"Is it all right to say all of that? Is that wrong, because I'm your mother? So what? You're mine now and my pet, my bug, not my son. Well, I think it's time I put you back down onto your little stage. After all, you're a professional entertainer, Mikey." My pitiless mother delicately laid me back onto the sticky pad of her immense upturned big toe. She was grinning at me and slowly wiggled her digit. "I think you're stuck to my toe, Mikey? Yes, you definitely are. It must be all that cum from that pretty little cock. Hmm."

 

 

 

The endless leg extended, tremors rumbling through her flesh as it straightened out. It came to lay parallel to my mother's other mighty limb on the carpet in front of her. My view from where I lay limply adhered to her toe was incredible, her legs stretched off into the distance to where they joined her hips. Above the unreal hips, my mother's upper body was like some natural rock tower rising into the distant sky.

 

 

 

The yacht-sized foot slowly rotated on it's heel until my mother's toes were pointed upward. Her other immense foot towered close by and my eyes traced over it's impressive size and beauty. Rock climbers upon her tanned, soft skin would not have been out of place at all.

 

 

 

In the far-off distance my mother silently appraised me for a few moments. "I had certainly hoped that you might have amounted to something with all that college tuition I was paying. I suppose a lot of young people might have considered you to be a spoiled rich kid, with your mother paying your way and all. Is that why you've failed? Were you indulged too much?" The mighty big toe flexed slowly as I lay helplessly adhered to the bulging side of it. "This is all I get for my investment in you? Really? Just a tiny piece of human lint stuck to the side of my toe?"

 

 

 

I was bawling as my colossal mother shifted her gorgeous feet. She deftly wiped my tiny, exhausted body to the plump, ridged flesh her big toe's twin sister. I cried out and convulsed in pain from the dexterous interplay of crush and collision of those impossible digits on my helpless form. There was nothing I could physically do for the moment, my mother's torturous play had completely exhausted me. I could only pant, limp and glued strongly to the immense, hot flesh of her scrupulously maintained toe.

 

 

 

"Hmm. Well, I suppose I should try and be a gracious mother. I should support this endeavor of yours, without much criticism for the time being. Maybe I should try and look at it from your point of view? Perhaps you're on to something? Maybe you're a maverick? Is it lucrative to be a tiny, naked bug?" I blinked back tears as the blonde titaness slowly flexed her mighty toes, apparently modeling for herself the big toe I lay plastered against. "Well, you haven't even made fifty dollars at it in an afternoon. What do you think, Mikey? Does that sound about right? I suppose I should withhold judgment and just indulge you a bit more, to be fair. After all, this is what you've wanted for so long."

 

 

 

With a smug look the two humongous big toes came close to one another again. I was delicately smeared across her other big toe's nail. The air was withheld from my lungs as my trailing, flimsy limbs squealed with a pasty friction, dragged behind my torso across the glossy red expanse. Once I had become stuck, the panic-inducing toe-pad pulled away from me. It abandoned my tiny, gasping form on the vertical convex curve of her red polished toenail.

 

 

 

Strands of saliva messily danced, tangling from my lips and chin as I fought to catch my breath. I was slowly gliding wetly down the great red expanse of my mother's vertical toenail. I stayed as still as I could while my arms were slowly pulled upwards from my tiny body while my legs were simultaneously folded beneath me. The instep of my mother's foot fell away beneath me as a tall, veined precipice of flesh that eventually became her tanned, massive ankle far below.

 

 

 

My face felt at first hot, then unnaturally cool, a side effect of being repeatedly bodily squeezed, I wagered. Perhaps this momentary respite had allowed my blood flow to regain it's normal equilibrium? The mighty big toe I lay plastered against slowly waggled and in the distance the beautiful, coldly amused face smiled.

 

 

 

"Hmm. Maybe, eventually, you'll win me over to your point of view. I have to admit, there is something very appealing about having my irresponsible son stuck like a bit of wet tissue to my toenail. But, just to be sure I think I'll play with you for a little while, Mikey."

 

 

 

My mother made a leisurely game of it, transferring my sticky, naked body from one big toe to the other, occasionally sealing both of the mighty digits together against me as I silently begged for her to stop. The entire time she played with me one of her hands was slowly caressing the tight fabric between her legs. She continued her toe play for at least ten minutes, punishing and mocking my tiny exhausted and naked body with her monumental big toes. Eventually, I was inadvertently ensnared by one of her long second toes. Though the circumference of this toe was immense, it paled in comparison to her big toes, which were simply vast surfaces I could only cling to. I desperately took the opportunity to attempt to safeguard myself a bit from my dominating, gigantic captor.

 

 

 

With trembling, worn out muscles I wrapped my limbs around the great pillar of hot flesh. I slowly dragged myself upward as my mother giggled, occasionally gasping in surprise as her massive second toe suppressed a twitch. In the distance she had a strange look on her face of almost pain. She was visibly sweating and biting her lower lip, spending long moments with her eyes tightly closed. With some revulsion I knew that this wasn't just a disciplined reaction against my slowly climbing, tickling form. There was an escalating arousal there as well.

 

 

 

I was completely spent as I reached the wide pad of her toe. I collapsed there, a tiny, delicate toy splayed on the end of a feminine toe's tip. As I lay panting, covered in sweat, the distant carpeted horizon was dominated with that grotesquely surreal view: my colossal, athletic, flaxen haired mother who grimaced as she stroked slowly between her legs.

 

 

 

I rolled to my belly and reached as wide as I could with my arms and legs across the plump, humid sculpture of flesh, hugging it against my entire tiny, naked body. I squeezed my limbs with all my strength. I felt my stomach muscles protest against their cruel exploitation. The domineering titaness cooed and the frightening big toe flexed away before crashing against my feminine pedestal. I pushed, scraping and violently kneading against the huge, sticky ridges with the palms of my hands. I was desperate to keep my mother's attention as I squeezed my widely clasped legs against the toe's dense swells. I growled under my breath as I grimaced at her distant, panic-inducing face.

 

 

 

"Just leave... me here... isn't this... nice? No need... to squish... me... no... need to... play with... me... No need... Just let... me... be safe... Just let... me... be safe..."

 

 

 

"Oh, Mikey! Mmm. I really like that!"

 

 

 

Tremors shot through me, rattling me violently as her leg began to move. The awe-inspiring shin and knee rose upwards as the foot I was perched stickily upon slid closer to her hips on her vast heel. One beautiful hand flew past the golden tower of her shin.

 

 

 

The looming, flushed face grinned as the index finger lowered over me. "You've figured out your proper place in the world, haven't you, Mikey? I think that sometimes young people just need a little nudge in the proper direction when they become lost or confused. You're going to make a lovely toe toy for your mother. Don't worry, I'll always be here to help. To give you a nudge. Always."

 

 

 

My mother smiled as her colossal fingers loomed over my relatively small perch. I moaned as it lowered, pressing me into the firm, hot flesh of her second toe's bulky tip. It gently stroked across my exhausted, sore body. Effortlessly I was captured between her fingers and remove from the tip of her second toe. I sobbed and cried as my unfortunate, helplessly exhausted body was used to slowly probe and caress each massive, humid crevice between each of her giant toes.

 

 

 

Finally my cruel mother grew bored dragging my tiny form through her huge toes and laid me on the carpet. I was devastated, and lay there gasping, worn out by the slow torture session.

 

 

 

I was prodded by an enormous fingernail as she pulled her legs in close to sit next to me cross-legged. "I have to go get cleaned up and retrieve some things. You just stay there and rest. If you try to get away there will be consequences."

 

 

 

The ground shook and quaked as my mother unfolded and stood up. I watched her enormous feet thunder away out of the room. I rolled over onto my side and looked around. The coffee table and couch were too far away. The little office trashcan was even further. The only thing I could see that could serve as a hiding spot was a crack in the wainscoting. I rolled over onto my stomach and tried to get my arms and legs beneath me. I was still panting and everything hurt. As I waited on my body to rally I tried to wipe the smelly stickiness from my face. I could hear and feel her footsteps. A growing sense of panic filled me as the thunderous reports grew louder. I cursed under my breath as I realized that she would be back before I could attempt my escape. I had been pushed too far physically.

 

 

 

Tears of frustration came to my eyes as my mother's enormous form came into view. I realized she was carrying things, before the terror of her impossible form overwhelmed my rational thought. By the time the beautiful crushing, punishing feet gracefully drew near I was crying out, begging her not to do the obvious: to step on me.

 

 

 

An enormous box, the size of a proud neoclassical bank headquarters lowered out of the sky. There was a tremor as it touched down. I felt I should know what this was, but the sheer size of it made it strangely unfamiliar. As my captor lowered and folded herself into a sit I realized what it was. My father's lure making box, what he had used to create fly fishing lures. A pair of my mother's sandals were set down next to it. They had been some of her favorite ones from when I was a child, she had not worn them in years now.

 

 

 

"I want to go out, Mikey. But it would be no fun to leave you here. So I think I'll make my own version of a child restraint. Maybe bug restraint would be more accurate for you."

 

 

 

Her laughter deafened me. I was gently folded and compressed in upon myself between her thumb and index finger in a pinch. She laid me back down right in front of the toes of her left foot, underneath her arched big toe. Before I could do more than roll over the big toe had lowered, capturing and pinning me to the carpet beneath it. Only my head was free.

 

 

 

"There. All nice and snug underneath of me. You just rest there, unless, of course, you want to earn some more money with that little tongue of yours. I would like that, you know."

 

 

 

Above me she worked. She punched several holes through the thick leather of one of the sandals. The warmth from her toe pad coursed through me and I was soon groggy, despite my predicament.

 

 

 

"Mikey! Mikey!" She sang my name.

 

 

 

I coughed and opened my eyes. I had drifted off into sleep. I winced and yelped as I took in the tip of her toe bowing out above my tiny trapped face. Beyond the long toenail my mother was smiling down at me.

 

 

 

"You didn't lick or kiss me at all! I go to the trouble of doing all of this work for you. Sometimes I think you don't appreciate me. Well, that's going to change. I am a large part of your life, you know."

 

 

 

The toe above me moved, fattening as it drove the air from my lungs. I cried out raggedly as my bones protested to her tiny movement. Her distant face lowered and her smile grew as she blew me a kiss.

 

 

 

I was lifted along with the toe. She peeled me from it and placed me into one of her palms.

 

 

 

"I'm all finished! It probably doesn't look like much to you, but I am quite proud of this. It's time to try it out. Just a trial run. But I think it will work. If it doesn't you're going to know it. Because it wouldn't take much at all to ruin those little twigs you call arms and legs."

 

 

 

She stood as she held me and gathered up some of the things from the floor. Soon I found myself at the kitchen table. She lowered me over the sole of one of the old sandals. I could immediately see what she had done. She had poked six holes into the dark, greasy stain where her big toe always rested. Thin threads, the diameter of municipal power lines to me, had been fed through the holes, it was quite elaborate, really. She had spent quite a bit of time getting it right. She meant to strap me spread-eagled to the sole.

 

 

 

"Goodness, you're shaking! I like it when you do that! I think that would be, oh, maybe one dollar. Yeah, it's worth a dollar to feel you trembling between my fingers. You are quite the entertainer. Only thirty-five dollars more to go. You are amazing, you know that? You're just being yourself and the money comes rolling in! You are so lucky to have found your calling in life!"

 

 

 

I was herded across the sole of the sandal by an elegant fingertip as my skyscraper-sized mother smirked down at me from overhead.

 

 

 

"Right there. Good boy! Now, lay down your back. Scoot to the left. Very good!"

 

 

 

Her face grew as she leaned forwards, completely filling up half of my possible view. She picked up tweezers and lowered them over me.

 

 

 

"There is no need to fret. I'll be careful! But, I might have a little bit more incentive if you would have put that itty-bitty mouth of yours to work. Oh well, live and learn."

 

 

 

It took quite a while for her to secure my limbs. If I moved too much she would pinch the tweezers together in front of my face as she admonished me. Soon I was strapped down, arms and legs pulled away from me at an angle, a cable-like thread belt cinched down around my waist. She had tied or somehow secured my restraints across the tread of the sandal. A colossal, beautiful manicured hand grasped my yacht-sized platform and I found myself flying through the air. I hovered in front of her face as she grinned.

 

 

 

"Okay! This looks really good, Mikey! Now, let Mommy see if everything is spaced correctly. If you feel some pressure, cry out, okay?"

 

 

 

Her other hand collided with the sandal and an enormous thumb slammed down right next to my tiny form. She flexed the sandal slowly between her hands, testing to see the extent of my safety.

 

 

 

She nodded approvingly after a while.

 

 

 

"Yes, I should be able to walk with you there. Let's try it out, shall we?"

 

 

 

I felt a rush of giddiness as I sped downwards, past the entirety of my mother's huge form. A moment later the sandal and I lay on the floor in front of her feet. She giggled as she flexed her enormous pretty toes. In the sky above me one long tanned leg moved across the sky, bisecting it and lowered. She bent over at the waist as she slipped the sandal on to her foot.

 

 

 

"Oh, I used to wear these all the time. I loved these sandals! They are too dirty and worn out now. Well, Mikey, it's your turn"

 

 

 

The sky past my legs was filled with her other foot. It lowered and grew much larger as it came on. Then it was working it's way through the immense leather strapping, her tremendous toes wiggling as she inched on my sandal. Her hands came down and helped ease my prison into place. I was crying as her toes wiggled over me. Then they lowered and I was smashed heavily underneath the pad of her big toe.

 

 

 

"Mikey, I hope it's all right so far, I'm going to walk around now. Mommy will be careful."

 

 

 

I was pressed almost to unconsciousness beneath her vast toe as she stood. Then I was hurtling upwards as I accelerated forward, my bonds keeping me safely in place against the grease-varnished toe-print. Touchdown was a violent and deafening experience, I had the air driven from my tiny form and my vision blurred from the tremors which were generated just beneath me on the other side of my mother's sandal. Before I could recover I was sealed in completely beneath her ridged, dense flesh before rocketing back into the sky again.

 

 

 

Ten steps later she stopped and I could see that she had bent down, peering at my tiny trapped head which peeked out from beneath the front of her big toe.

 

"Wow! This is really nice! I wasn't sure this would work at all! Well, Mikey, mommy is very happy with you so far. You've been a very brave little boy! I think that's worth ten dollars to me! Aren't you happy? Only twenty-five more dollars to go! Soon I'll be repaid and I'll have to be paying you for real! But, Mikey, it isn't like I can just tuck a twenty dollar bill into your g-string. Hmm. I suppose I could just fold the money up and tuck it in between my own pretty toes for you. You should be to find it if you crawl around and explore enough. Ooh, I like the thought of that! Be still my beating heart! Well, we'll figure out how to pay you later, won't we my little boy toy? Maybe we can do some bartering? I'm sure there are things mommy could... do for you. Hmm. Well, I want to go for walk. It's nice and warm outside. I think you're fine wearing that. It's not supposed to rain."

 

By the time she had made it through the front door of her house I had discovered when to breathe as she took a step. I willed myself to retreat inwards, rationing my fortitude and energy as I was beaten with each thunderous, graceful yet piston-like motion of her humongous leg. I could smell freshly cut grass and the light was different, much brighter and warmer. There were terrible crunching sounds beneath me as the giantess trod upon bits of gravel. Soon the thickly cushioned pad of flesh which rhythmically slammed into me grew moist. I was bathed in fresh, viscous foot sweat. I heard a tremendous and deep feminine voice call out to my mother. She stopped walking and her big toe settled on me, sealing all of my body except for part of my head beneath it in a wet and hot vice.

 

I could hear the other skyscraper sized being approach, the crunching, swishing sound of grass being crushed underfoot. If I could only get their attention!

 

"Hi, Linda!"

 

"Hi, Samantha! I thought you would be at the restaurant today?"

 

Samantha was a beautiful girl a year or two younger than I. She worked in a little place situated in the strip mall down the street from my mother's house.

 

 

"Not today. I took the day off, it's my mother's birthday and we are all going out tonight to celebrate."

 

From my fleshy prison I managed to turn my head and look upwards into the sky. Samantha was a towering sight, all bare tanned legs and distant foreshortened features. My hard-on grew stiffer as I peered up at her through one eye.

 

"Well, wish her a happy birthday from me, will you?"

 

The vast and frightening being shifted nervously from leg to leg for a moment. The grass out in front of me crunched ferociously under her huge, out of view feet.

 

"We were thinking of taking her to Chase's Buck-Line this evening."

 

"Oh? Sounds like it's going to be a late night!"

 

"Someone told me that your son, Mike, is actually dancing there. Is that true? Maybe we could get-"

 

"No, no, no, Mike is busy with college. Besides, he would never do something like that. Mike is always a good boy, I make sure of that."

 

"Aww. That's too bad. I was kind of hoping the rumor was true. It would have been fun to see. I always thought Mike was sort of cute."

 

"Thank you, dear. He is cute, isn't he? But, don't hold your breath, Samantha, Mike likes older women. I think he might be in love. He is finally getting close to a woman he has been absolutely obsessed with for years now."

 

My mother's toe flattened me beneath it, the ridged monstrosity sealed down over my head. I could still hear their words as I quivered.

 

 

"Oh? Well, great for him. Do you think they'll get married?"

 

"I'm not sure she is good for him. I honestly think it's all physical attraction. She seems very dominating and possessive of him. It's sad, but she has Mike right where she wants him, Sam. He's under her thumb, more or less. But, maybe that is what Mike likes. Love and lust can be complicated."

 

I could sense the awkwardness in the brief silence exuded from the mighty form of sweet, unsophisticated Samantha. It was ended by a loud electronic chime from somewhere beyond my hellish prison.

 

"Oh, that's my brother, I really have to talk to him. Say hi to Mike for me if you see him! He deserves better than her, and you can tell him I said so!"

 

"Okay, I'll tell him to not let her walk all over him. Bye, Sam."

 

My mother turned and began to walk again. After a couple of minutes she stopped. The enormous digit was raised off of me and the sweat and funk which coated me grew cold in the summer air.

 

"What are you doing down there, little bug?"

 

My mother was not looking at me, her distant pretty face was tilted at a slightly different angle and she was looking beyond her feet.

 

"Don't you know what I do to bugs that cross my path? Here, let me show you."

 

I flew through the air and the landing was very light. I wasn't entirely sure if my enormous mother had placed her foot back on the ground again.

 

"Just a little bit of pressure, that's all it takes, isn't that right, Mikey?"

 

 

The sandal moved slowly forward and then settled. I could hear chitinous legs scraping frantically against the tread directly beneath me.

 

"You don't even deserve to be beneath me."

 

My mother's distant face smiled coldly as she lowered her big toe again, covering me completely. As she pressed down on me I could hear a terrible, wet crunch, as loud as fireworks to my ears. She had deliberately spared me beneath her toe, not transferring the fatal crushing pressure through my little body. It didn't matter. The act was enough to drive me into hysterics. She was laughing as I thrashed against my bonds, my tiny movements delicately tickling my mother's monumental and possessive anatomy. The beautiful big toe arched upwards off of me as she giggled.

 

"Ooh! Mikey! Mommy likes that!"

 

The big toe lowered and hovered, low enough onto me that my tiny struggles tickled the dense, sweaty flesh. My beautiful mother tucked a bundle of long blonde hair behind her ear as she smiled down at me. The leviathan winked at me before the ridged flesh molded down over me again, squeezing the air from my vulnerable body.

 

She continued to laugh as she began walking for a bit longer. Then all was still again. The big toe eased slightly on top of me and I could get some air and light, it was simply pinning me gently to the slick, nasty leather beneath me.

 

"Oh, what's wrong, Mikey? Did I kill one of your little friends? But, Mike, bugs deserve to die! Surely you can understand that, can't you? I mean, how can something so tiny be deserving of my compassion? They really are vermin and nothing more. The way they crawl around is creepy, don't you think? Oh, and when they are crawling on me… Eew! Just eew!"

 

The toe arched upwards and slowly waggled in the air just above me. We were at the front door to the house. I grew dizzy as she turned around and sat down on the concrete steps. Her enormous hands clasped her smooth shin just above her ankle as she looked down at me.

 

"You didn't think- you didn't think mommy was going to crush you, did you? Wait a minute, that's not it at all, is it? Oh, Mikey! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that you were vermin! I really did it this time, didn't I? If I have to have a son that is a bug, I am glad that you are that bug, Mike. Cheer up! Samantha thinks you're cute. That's something, isn't it? But, I wonder if she likes bugs? Because that might change her opinion of you now, I guess. Oh, I'm confusing the issue again and making everything worse, aren't I?"

 

My mother's hand left her shin and lowered over me. Her index finger softly stroked over the short length of my naked body as she smiled sweetly.

 

"Well, if it matters at all, you deserve to be beneath me. You might be a bug, but you are my bug. You belong here, Mikey, and I'll stick up for you. I won't let anyone take that away from you. Who cares what Samantha thinks. You'll never end up underneath of her. She can't have you. She doesn't know what you like."

 

Her fingernail softly ran across the bulging, firm pad of her toe which hung above me as she smiled, looking out across her yard for a moment.

 

"I know what I like. I like big, strong, confident young men. But not exactly. I like it when a confident and headstrong young man is... reduced... to a frightened and vulnerable state. A psychoanalyst might have a field-day with that, hmm? Especially when an attractive, obviously assertive lawyer such as myself experiences such a messy divorce. Someone might think I am expressing my pent up anger. Or perhaps that I am simply indulging in some sort of a sick revenge fantasy. But I'm not, am I, Mike? Maybe someone ought to examine you, then? Maybe you're responsible for all of this. But, Mike, you've vanished! You're missing! Taken out of the world under mysterious circumstances. Never to be seen or heard from again. It's just so sad."

 

My cruel mother's smile frightened me to my core as her shapely digit blotted out the light.

 

 

"Well, I'll try and examine you, Mike. See if I can help you in some small way. Maybe I can find something which explains this strange situation you've found yourself in."

 

The enormous big toe ran across me as I struggled. The ridges of the toe print caught and pulled at my incredibly thin, shrunken skin. It raised again and then lightly pressed against my engorged penis.

 

"What's that there? Do you think that somehow this inconsequential little thing has something to do with all of this? I can't imagine something so tiny could be important at all. I mean, this certainly is a complex state of affairs. This couldn't be the linchpin to everything- could it? Hmm. It sure is tiny for a linchpin, isn't it? What do you think, Mikey? Do you think that I should investigate further? Maybe together we can figure this out? I'm willing to give it a try, and I don't think you are going anywhere anytime soon. Maybe this is a clue? Maybe it will be a tiny piece of that great big puzzle, the mystery of how you ended up an insect."

 

My mother began to stroke her digit across me. I grew even harder and she seemed to feel it, a smile came to her face as her toe adjusted, running lightly over me. Now she held the enormous pad of her toe almost off of me as she moved. The sticky and wet ridges only caressed those extremities which stood up off of me the farthest; my toes, hard cock and occasionally my face. Her touch was wonderful and terrible. I felt the cartilage in the end of my nose almost buckle as her skin caught and dragged my nose painfully out of line. To shield my tiny nose I threw my head fully to one side and her pernicious toe print felt like it was almost tearing my ear from my head. I had to settle on an uncomfortable angle which presented my cheek and jaw to her unintentionally rough petting. I coughed and then gagged as her thick skin consistently dragged my lips open and forced nasty and thick perspiration into my mouth. I easily willed tears to shed trying to comfort my stinging eyes. Despite the grotesque torture I felt myself approaching orgasm. A moment later the underside of her toe had stopped, it lightly rested on me. There was a haughty, satisfied giggle and I realized I had been grinding my hips into the bottom of her toe.

 

"Let's go inside. I have a little project I'd like for you to help me with. Nothing too terrible. Just mom stuff."

 

I survived my mother's crushing, lumbering steps into the kitchen. She removed the sandals and placed the one I was strapped to on top of the table. Using the lure-making tools she carefully freed me from my bonds. Her eyes twinkled as she gently gathered me up. She seemed amused that I was soaked through with her sweat. Her five foot diameter fingers closed over me, nestling me in a warm, dark, gently closed fist. She walked briefly as I weakly rubbed life back into my sore limbs. When her fingers opened we were in her bedroom. My stomach tightened into a hard knot. She had deliberately almost stroked me to orgasm. Now I found myself in her bedroom. I shut my eyes as I frowned, shaking my head uselessly in denial. There were loud noises all around me and I instinctively peered around, she was crawling onto the bed.

 

I was swiftly lowered toward the bed, and my mother delicately put me on the mattress. I lay face down, limp. Around me more noises filled the air and the mattress beneath me rocked and quaked. I was gently rolled over onto my back by a familiar sweaty and stinky surface. The big toe of her left foot captured me beneath it, once again pinning me. I sank gently into the giant rough weave of the bedspread. Only my head was left free.

 

My frightening mother placed her elegant hand on her bent left knee, and expertly filed her fingernails. I watched her beyond the length of her enormous tanned leg. I felt empty inside, completely spent. The blonde goddess paused and looked at her handiwork before looking down at me with a mischievous smile.

 

“You know,” she said, with a wolfish grin, “you're just so tiny, Mikey. I've been wondering about all of the way that you can help me around here. You've got to earn your keep, you know. After all, you're under my roof now. But, maybe being a bug can be useful. Maybe we can harness your... youthful indiscretions... maybe some good can come from your... impulsiveness. So, you are going to help me paint my nails.''

 

No tears came to my eyes. I just lay there, trying to savor what little peace she afforded me for a few moments longer beneath her dominating toe.

 

"Don't go anywhere," she giggled as she reached over to retrieve a zeppelin-sized red silk satchel off of the nightstand. What choice did I have? She was obviously the one in control. Above me she fiddled, laying out giant nail tools onto the bedspread.

 

My mother spent the next ten minutes taking the nail polish off of her right foot, then she retrieved me from beneath her left big toe and placed me beneath the other one so she could work on her left foot. Soon her nails were unvarnished, and I was quite light-headed and buzzed from the polish remover's fumes.

 

After that she picked up a q-tip and her nail clippers and I saw her delicately clip off one end of the q-tip, close to the cotton swab. She filed the clipped end of the hollow plastic shaft of the q-tip with a nail file for a quite a while, occasionally carefully appraising it up close to her eyes and then finally smiled down at me deviously. She then produced some clear plastic tape and cutting off a small piece she folded it longways upon itself almost it's entire length before attaching one end of it to the cut end of the q-tip she had been working on.

 

Her giant beautiful big toe lifted up off of me. She reached down swiftly, and before I could even get up, she pinched me between her fingers. I was brought up to her huge smiling face.

 

"Let's get you ready to hold the paintbrush," she said with a smirk.

 

My mother brought me down in front of the toes of her right foot and then gently pressed me against the front of her big toe. She slowly rubbed the front-side of my tiny body against the ridged hot skin of her toe pad. I shuddered as I grew hard. She continued this for another moment or two, giggling to herself. Finally she raised me up to her face again and examined me. My face grew red as I saw her huge blue eyes almost cross as she studied my tiny hard penis. The succulent lips puckered enormously and my mother lightly blew on me, grinning as I thrashed.

 

She licked her lips and grinned widely, "Perfect! What a nice little paintbrush handle. So tiny and straight, ready to service mommy's toenails."

 

She reached out with a pinky fingertip and dabbed lightly at my hard dick. My mother held up her q-tip contraption and brought it slowly towards me. I suddenly realized what she had intended. I began to try and squirm against her fingertips, but she was too strong to resist. She slid the q-tip's hollow plastic shaft over my penis and delicately wrapped the folded tape around my waist like a belt. She secured the q-tip to my manhood deftly and then dipped the end of my "brush" into the red nail polish bottle. The fumes burned my eyes and I shut them tight. She held me above her big toe's nail and began to move me back and forth gracefully, painting her toenail with my hardened cock!

 

It did not take long before I was completely intoxicated on nail polish fumes. My mother's prodigious fingertips carried me back and forth; from gigantic nail polish bottle to the enormous unvarnished toenails. Back and forth, back and forth. Occasionally the huge being would let out a giggle and the enormous toes I hovered over would flex in mirth. My intoxication steadily worsened and eventually I was badly hallucinating, completely gone.

 

I vaguely remember at one point beginning to scream. My evil mother's immeasurable body parts seemed to have grown even larger and this frightened me to no end. I shrieked uncontrollably and her actions made everything worse. She brought me to her enormous face and mocked me as I cried. At some point the giant woman grew irritated with me and threatened my tiny head and shoulders with a pinch of her thumb and fingertips. As she berated me her fleshy digits slowly closed, sealing my tiny head and upper body in an enormous dainty pinch. She lifted me up and held me as she laughed, my tiny head abused between her sweet smelling fingers as I dangled. My chest was too constricted to breathe, the tape threatening to cut into the thin skin of my hips. I remember calming down at some point, and my immense cruel mother then began painting her enormous fingernails with the armature protruding off the end of my battered and sensitive cock.

 

I remember contemplating this strange form of hell. For close to an hour my entire world was my mother's vast face and her hands. My intoxication by the nail polish fumes was exponentially growing worse and the mental effects more frightening. My thoughts were strange as my tiny body was tightly compacted in the pinched crevice between two of her fingers, endlessly making the trip from the top of the nail polish bottle and then hovering over each enormous fingertip. To my poisoned, reeling mind there was a strange sense of peace in what was happening. I was able to participate in my mother's private world. But I realized after a while that this was wrong. I was so tiny that in fact, my mother was my private world. I had no choice, thanks to her, I was participating.

 

I was deeply humbled and I lost some piece of myself in the experience. Perhaps it was because she was using me as a trivial tool to perform a such a mundane task. Perhaps it was because of our size difference, after all she could crush me to a chunk-strewn liquid with a small movement of one of the fingers she had forced me to service. Her fingernails were almost the size and grossly general shape of small, overturned rowboats to me. I knew she was punishing me for having a secret fascination with her. I also knew this was only partially my punishment, she was delighted to paint her nails with a bespoke brush fastened to her shrunken son's penis.

 

She broke me as she painted her nails. The entire time she whispered and cooed down at me like I was a simpleminded, barely aware pet: baby words spoken with a hushed condescendingly cheerful tone. Her enormous face was always very close by, a face from a theater screen with gales of steamy breath washing over me as she lavished her well-prepped nails with polish. Her face terrified me, for close to an hour it floated very close to my tiny body. Her eyes never left my tiny form as she worked. She would smile warmly and sweetly at me as I cried and struggled, but there was no sweetness there, it only served to bite me more deeply with how casual her domination of me was. I was utterly helpless.

 

I remember at some point she was done with me. She struggled to undo the makeshift polish brush from me. I recalled being terrified that my face would accidentally be planted into a wet nail tip and I would die, blind and suffocating as the nail polish's toxins coursed full strength through my tiny body. She retrieved a pair of small scissors from her nail bag. One of the enormous blades was ran up against my body as she clipped free the transparent tape belt from around my waist and legs.

 

She placed me on the end table for a moment and she retrieved a spare foam toe separator. She carefully stabbed through the center of it with the scissors and picked me up again gingerly and awkwardly in her wet polish hindered fingers. I was slowly thrust through the ragged hole she had just created until my head stuck through the other side. With that she gently laid me down on the end table.

 

I struggled to breathe in the gigantic tan block of foam which pressed in around me painfully. Stretched out before me was the enormous vista of my mother's bed. She laid against giant throw pillows as she watched TV, her beautiful toes pried apart by little tan pieces of foam. I watched in my hazy stupor as she carefully pressed buttons on the remote, ever mindful of ruining a wet fingernail. She finally settled on a television show she liked. She glanced over at me and pouted.

 

"Oh, Mikey, you look lonely over there! Why don't you come over here and watch TV with me? You can help mommy."

 

My mother picked up the toe separator I was wedged within and brought me over one of her feet. She pried loose the separator from between her big toe and second toe. She carefully wedged my stifling prison between her huge toes and smiled sweetly down at me before reclining back on her bed to watch the show. The fumes of the nail polish were much worse here and they surrounded me in a potent and invisible cloud.

 

 

 

I lapsed in and out of consciousness. I do not know how many frights I suffered as I would endlessly wake, my inebriated mind neutral and blank. Then I would see in what first glance seemed to be a bizarre golden mountain chain stretched out before me. But those immense, distant features had terrifying contextual relationships with one another.

 

 

 

Each feature I stupidly gazed upon brought to me closer to the agony of epiphany. Sometimes I would first spot her content, happy face and then my screaming would begin. Other times it was one of her massive beautiful hands which would give away these bronzed mountains singular, impossible identity. Sometimes it took minutes of gazing upon her distant belly or bush or massive pink-kissed nipples before I understood. Yet, each time I would eventually realize that the landscape surrounding me and stretching into the distance was not really a place, but was, in fact, a person. Then the immediate, sanity bruising epiphany of where I was, what had happened, what she had done to me would ravage my mind with a withering impact.

 

 

 

Each of these idiotic realizations was a thunder stroke followed by my struggling and screaming. Each of my panicked outbursts was cruelly, though inadvertently, mocked by her. The distant, colossal face would inevitably rise upwards from just beyond the gilded landscape and smile at my agitated squeaks. Inevitably the fumes would overtake me once more. I would become limp and silent once again, wiping my mind blank and setting me up for another cruel awakening.

 

My last memory was being curled up, tiny and naked on my mother's warm and endless bare stomach. Her beautiful face hovered in the far distance beyond the massive hills of her breasts. I was in the throes of the fumes intoxicating effects now more than ever. I was hallucinating terribly, lost completely in my own world. I could not understand her, the deep and booming words she thundered down at me were gibberish.

 

 

 

My cruel mother's face was demonic and her skin seemed to crawl as if something moved from within it. One vast, pretty hand rested on her stomach, filling me with an awful dread. I remember her casually savaging me with her fingers, she was probably merely playing with me. The gigantic fingertips would chase and then inevitably flatten me beneath of them as I struggled vainly to escape. I remember trying to hide from her in the endless tangle of her pubic hair, but she effortlessly caught me and I was dragged back to the golden landscape of her tummy for more torment. She played with me for a long time until I no longer had the strength to defy her. A fingernail nudged my limp, panting body across her tanned skin as she rumbled.

 

I idly wondered if she had other tiny people somewhere. Was this their blood she had covered her nails with? I thought I saw entrails and clumps of hair streaked across the thick, convex shield of keratin that pressed against my face. Yet, when I tried to focus on these grisly remains they dissolved before my eyes. Far away across this landscape she was thundering incoherently. I watched as the immense demoness frowned and she carefully hit me with the end of her index fingernail in a slow motion flick. Perhaps she struck me on my head, perhaps it was the fumes cumulative toxicity, I do not know. All I know is that I tumbled helplessly across her dense, glistening flesh. I landed in a golden, crystalline thicket of tall, wiry hair and passed out.

 

Slowly I woke up. My head pounded fiercely and my stomach felt terrible. My throat was sore and my mouth tasted of nail polish accelerant. At first I did not know where I was at all. I found myself plastered to an enormous ridged area, giant flesh, obviously my mother's flesh. I slowly tried to pull my face and upper body away from the hot and sticky surface. I was in an enormous shadowy crevice, loose enough that I could move my arms and head, tight enough that I was snugged in vertically. On both sides of my tiny naked body were walls of flesh. I realized as I tried to get my bearings that the flesh around me pulsed almost imperceptibly. It was my mother's blood feeding her enormous body, pushed by the chugging tempest of her distant enormous heart.

 

This throbbing eventually began to irritate me in a strange way. It was uncomfortable for me, as if my own breathing and heart rate kept trying to unsuccessfully match hers. I finally could no longer stand it, I turned over as best as I could and then gravity seemed to take over. I slid slowly downwards, the walls around me moved, tightening against me until I ceased my slow descent. The dense and hot bulwarks of the crevice closed on me as I screamed. I was trapped for only a moment, and I took tiny, shallow breaths as I began sobbing.

 

"Please… please mother, just…"

 

Then the grooved, ridged skin of the walls surrounding me moved violently, the hot flesh against my front shot in one direction as that against my back slipped the other way. I was a bit of soft, flexible nothing, a clump of waste thread from a shirt sleeve, a squashed raisin, a tapered length of lint ground between my mother's vast, dominating and truthfully, daintier body parts. I was spun in place, my tiny arms hurt terribly as they were pressed against my ribs, my tiny legs suffered as well, forced against each other forcefully and tangled. The crevice rubbed against itself around me with an enormous and frightening noise. The sound was leathery and of immense strength, the ragged hum of the ridges colliding and pushing past one another. After a moment of this there was silence and stillness again. Her immense flesh did not let up on my tiny form. I drew in a grateful, shaky breath.

 

"Mother! Please don't kill me! I don't want to die like a bug! Please…"

 

The flesh rippled around me again. I began screaming as I renewed my struggling. The bulging flesh twitched once, shaking me almost to unconsciousness. Then the crevice grew even tighter, pressing my face into the sickening smelly ridges, sealing all air and light from my delicate head and greedy lungs. I struggled to suck in a breath, then another one, then I grew lightheaded, then darkness took me.

 

I woke again. Everything slowly coalesced around me as I sought to see where I was. I was no longer in a tight crevice somewhere on my mother's huge body. Above me were the sides of two enormous toes, they lay still, towering into the air on each side of me like cars stood on end. I lay on the webbing between my mother's frightening and sexy big toe and her second toe. I had not moved far, I surmised. I was just no longer up there, the helpless toy of the swollen and fleshy ends of her two toes. She had simply relaxed her mighty toes and I had fallen backwards to the warm cradle of the webbing spanning between the enormous digits.

 

I heard a strange and soft rumbling in the distance. It was my mother! She was softly snoring! I knew I was in bed with her, tucked between two of her toes. I felt bile rise in my throat in time with my intense loathing of my huge captor. I had always thought of my mother as, well, my mother. Not a dominating woman. Not a giantess who wished to shrink her only son and play with and dominate him. I realized that I did not know this woman whom I had called mother my entire life. She was, more or less from my point of view evil… But more than that, she was peculiarly kinky and no longer viewed me as a person. I knew I was no longer a person in her eyes because of where I found myself now, trapped between her frightening toes like a strange toy.

 

In front of me and behind me was a wall of tight mesh, my mother was wearing hose. I laughed bitterly out loud. Of course she was wearing hose! She did not want to lose her new toy! I had to escape!

 

I slowly rolled over to my stomach and started to drag myself across the hot and leathery flesh. The enormous toes twitched. I froze, I even held my breath in that moment. Suddenly my entire world was moving. Somewhere in the distance I heard the goddess-like being snort as she changed position in her bed. I was thrown into one of the fleshy walls as my entire anatomy-prison rolled. The enormous toes clenched closed at the top first and the space quickly became dire as the digits closed upon me. The light went quickly away as I began screaming, all around me was my mother's enormous sinful flesh. I was trapped like a bug again.

 

I waited for fifteen minutes in that demeaning position, plastered to my mother's sticky skin, held, clasped by those frightening and dominating ridged walls. Satisfied that she would not move again soon I began to inch my way through the crevice, constantly fighting the urge to panic, to struggle. I knew she could crush me to a paste between her freshly polished maternal toes.

 

Soon I was rewarded, my slow-motion fight succeeded and my head pushed past the horrific crevice. I breathed in the wonderful fresh air but I did not pause. I continued to climb, moving ever so slowly. Soon I had reached the edge of one of my mother's toenails. This was obviously her big toe. The expansive, bowed red shell lay before me, embedded upon and framed by tanned flesh. Finally I had freed both my legs. Against my entire backside was the rigid and rough netting of her hose. It pressed downwards against me, resisting my motions and resisting my attempts to stay moving on all fours.

 

I tried several times to crawl onto my demonic mother's toenail. Parts of it were too slick, I would not want to be there if she moved again. Finally I paused and lay down lengthwise in the trough where the side of her toenail dove in a steep curve where it met her flesh. In the trough of these two surfaces I lay for quite some time because my giantess mother's toenail was cool on my skin. I drank in the coolness and rolled over when my other side became too hot against the long bulging hillock of skin.

 

My head still hurt and my throat was still sore. In the dim light I cried, letting my cheek lay against the cool red lacquered surface. I was my own mother's plaything. She owned me completely. I might never reclaim my life. I might never escape her. All I had to do was look around. Even though she was asleep my enormous crazy mother was dominating me. I was naked, perhaps an inch tall, and I lay crying on a beautiful and intimidatingly enormous woman's big toe. If that was not improbable enough, it was my mother's big toe. I was just a tiny little thing, a toy, a distraction for my colossal mother. I began trembling. I could not stand even touching her. But there was nothing I could do. My world was her foot. My campsite and sanctuary her insane big toe. I lay there, tiny and alone, tucked against the side of my mother's toenail. As I wept I drifted off to sleep once again.

 

I awoke to motion all around me. The enormous digit was thrown back and forth. I was violently thrown out onto the enormous convex toenail and then I slid downwards, slamming into the curb-like cuticle. I was surprised nothing had been broken as I lay there trying to catch my breath.

 

"Mikey, oh Mikey! Did you sleep well, my little nail polish brush?"

 

As I watched my mother's enormous hand erupted from under the sheets and a monstrous index finger tentatively probed right next to me, in between her toes. I was trembling in fear.

 

"Where have you gotten to?"

 

The limitless bed sheets slid away and I turned my head and tightly shut my eyes against the bright light streaming through the huge window. The enormous foot was moving, causing a terrible noise as her hard heel scraped across the mattress cover as she dragged her foot towards her. Then, the titaness began laughing.

 

"There you are! Are you checking out your handiwork? Performing some maintenance on my pretty toenail?"

 

My mother's puffy, freshly awakened face lowered over me. Beyond the enormous toe I lay trapped upon at quite some distance my mother's vast, naked hips towered upwards from the wrinkly plain of the bed. Her enormous pussy was set into the shadowy valley of flesh. It was like a waterfall composed of blonde hair, cascading down the maternal and mountainous terrain of her crotch. This was a very real landscape to me, distant and huge, framed in by the soaring peaks of her thighs.

 

 

 

I fought to remain sane, my terrible mother was all around me and even worse than that, I was a mere insect on her body. Yet, the most brutal horror of all was the fact that this familiar, cruel goddess was now awake and I had her complete attention. I gritted my teeth as a panicked shriek left my mouth, I was shaking, violent tremors brought on by my hellish predicament. I wondered fleetingly if the nail polish fumes still colored my perceptions. Perhaps I should try and calm down? That brought on a desperate and weak laugh. The enormous index finger lowered over me as my titanic mother smiled sweetly.

 

"Good morning, Mikey."

 

The pad of the fingertip came on and eclipsed everything beyond the mesh of the hose. It pressed down onto me, smashing me into the base of her toenail. She began to slowly stroke it over my tiny trembling form, harshly pressing the netting down painfully into my flesh.

 

"Did you sleep well? I thought about making a tiny little bed for you, but I wanted to keep you someplace where I could… monitor you. Besides, I had so much fun with you after you passed out, I was tired."

 

Her face came in even lower over me and her enormous pretty finger slowly molded my pitifully tiny naked body against the soft, raised edge of her big toe's cuticle as she pet me more slowly, more aggressively.

 

She whispered conspiratorially to me, "I like your soft little body. It felt so good between my toes!" Her finger let up on me after an especially long smash against her cuticle and toenail's juncture.

 

She cleared her throat and continued in her normal voice, “But, Mikey, you didn't struggle or protest while you were unconscious. I missed that. I almost felt like I might have been taking advantage of you, while you were passed out. Silly, right? Hmm. I bet you're trembling right now, aren't you? Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Mommy just wants someone to worship her and is no one better to do that than you! After all, you're the one who used to steal glances at my feet before you went off to college.”

 

The titaness bent so low that her enormous mouth was right above me as she whispered again.

 

“I found your drawings in your things. You know the ones... all those toes and feet and fingers and mouths. But the more I looked at them the more I realized you were trying to capture an essence, an archetype. A whole sketchpad filled with attempts, over and over until you nailed it. I knew immediately where your inspiration came from. All I had to do was admit it to myself. After all, you're quite an artist. It was so obvious.”

 

She sat up, taking her frightening face and foul morning breath away from me as I laid nestled upon her enormous anatomy and wept openly.

 

“I got to thinking: Why should you have to go out in the world and look endlessly for a girl with just the right feet and hands to put you over the edge? That could take years, maybe even a decade or more! All those perfectly sweet ladies who would make wonderful wives, except, well, they don't have sexy toes like your own mother! All of those good women you would have to reject, for no good reason at all. Well, no reason anyone else but you and I could understand. All those hearts broken! Why should my son suffer, and why should all those young ladies have to suffer? So I decided, because I am your mother, I would save you all that trouble! Why settle for a look-a-like, Mikey? After all, you can now have the real thing! You don't honestly want a whole woman, do you? You don't need a whole woman, do you? You just need particular… parts… your mother's sexy parts, right? I thought even more, how could you enjoy those things you find so perfect about me? Fingers and toes just aren't very big, are they?"

 

She raised a wrist and was staring at the fingers of one of her hands, contemplative and quiet for a moment.

 

“I thought about letting you suck on them. I thought about going even farther than that. But, Mike, I don't want to have sex with my own son. I just wanted my little boy to be happy! That's when it occurred to me! I could make you the size of my fingers! Then, it wouldn't be sex to me, not with you the size of a little doll, it would be fun for me, it would be play. But then I thought, isn't more almost always better? You needed to be smaller than that! My sexy parts should be a size you wouldn't ever be able to ever resist! Something large enough to be worthy of your worship! And if I was going to shrink you, you need to be at the size I find most pleasing to me as well, after all, I don't want to be bored, do I? I figured if I am your obsession, then let's be honest about it. I am your mother, I used to be your entire world. Isn't it appropriate then that you're my teeny tiny toy now? You used to look to me for everything when I was your mother. But now you're grown up, and you moved away, a fine young man at college. But there was a catch, wasn't there, Mike? Of the whole sea of young women around you, you were looking for your template, sexy toes, pretty feet, well-kept hands with long, beautiful nails. So, my little toy, our relationship just changed, that's all. From a doting mother to a very real goddess. But I'm not the only one who has changed, am I? You've gone from a baby to a boy and now recently a young man. Welcome to your final stage, Mike. A new goddess needs at least one worshiper. Right, my tiny, delicate bug?”

 

The enormous fingertip was back and she pressed me down face first into her toenail.

 

"What do you think about your work? Mommy thinks you did a good job on her nails! That little tiny penis of yours is sure useful, isn't it? Well, I need to go to the bathroom and brush my teeth. Some of us are real people and not little toys for their own mothers. Some of us need to be presentable to the world, you know. You stay right there, that's a good spot for you. Now hold on, I'll try and walk slowly."

 

My entire world accelerated as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. I was rattled to my core as her enormous beautiful feet touched down on the carpet. I was thrown back and forth as the huge being slowly wiggled her toes. Then my mother began to slowly walk

 

I hung on as well as I could, but it took everything in me not to become sick. I had to roll over onto my back and grip the netting of her hose with my fingers and even toes. I was kept in position, sliding back and forth slightly on the enormous toenail. She rummaged around above me and then I watched as the immense glossy white pillar of the toilet came into view. My mother sat down and I had to endure the sound and the smell of her piss as she brushed her teeth.

 

My torture in my precarious position went on for some twenty minutes as the vast entity primped and cleaned herself. Occasionally she glanced down at me, always a smile on her distant, almost tiny looking head. Finally she began to walk again and we reentered her bedroom. She sat down and scooted back on the bed, bringing both of her feet up on to it in front of her. I now had no support of her vast cool toenail and I was entirely clinging to the inside of her hose.

 

"You look uncomfortable like that. Let's get you out of there. I want to play with you."

 

 

I watched as she took off the stocking from her other foot. Then she carefully rolled back the hose on the foot where I resided. Soon I was swept away from her enormous toes. She held the rolled up hose to her face and smiled at me.

 

"Hello there! What are you doing in there? I have heard of devoted sons before, but you take it to another level. Really, Mike, shouldn't you be out dating someone?"

 

"Please, please mother! Please let me go! I won't tell anyone, I swear!"

 

"Really? I didn't know you felt like that. Well, I tell you what, let's try it on a trial basis, hmm? I mean, I don't want you to throw away your future just to be your mother's tiny and secret pet. What was that?"

 

"You have to let me go! Please! I'm so sorry, I've learned my lesson! I won't think about you anymore like that! I swear to God!"

 

"That sounds wonderful! Perhaps I'll squeeze you between my toes later. But I think I'd like to know more about this little body of yours. I'm not sure we could please each other. I am so big and you are so tiny. What is that? Yes, mommies toes are very sensitive! Here, let me show you!"

 

Her thumb and forefinger came down around me and closed delicately on my sobbing form. I was lifted out of the little round cup of rolled up hose. My huge mother brought me slowly to her upturned foot which rested on her thigh. She gently pressed my tiny body's front side against the pad of her enormous big toe.

 

"Where's that little penis? I'm going to find it, you know."

 

I was rubbed gently back and forth against the hot ridged flesh. Beyond me in the sky her huge face smiled a lusty, haughty smile.

 

"There are benefits to being mommie's toy. I could have just kept you full size. Maybe you and I could have gotten drunk and I might have shown off my feet to you, pretending that you were not looking the whole time. You know, perhaps give my perverted son something to masturbate about. Maybe, if we were really drunk I would have let you suck on my toes. Maybe. But now that your tiny I can just do whatever I want to you with just this single, solitary toe."

 

She pressed my entire body into the vast mighty pad using two fingers to hold me against it. Then as I grew hard my mother felt it. Once again she held me between her thumb and forefinger, I dangled, pinched between the thick fingertips of a feminine leviathan. She cooed down at me and rolled my tiny cock against my stomach using the bulging convex wall of flesh. In moments I was cumming, and as I did so she laughed softly.

 

 

 

"You're just so easy."

 

As she spoke she gently rubbed my tiny limp form against the immense pad of her big toe. She was using my own tiny, naked body to clean my cum from her skin.

 

"You just can't help yourself, can you? I guess that's your downfall, isn't it, Mikey? I suppose that's ultimately why you've ended up here, hmm? Well, I own you, you're mine now. There are benefits to being my toy, aren't there? But there are also some distinct disadvantages. There is a reason I thought this size would be good for you. See, Mike, you deserve to be just a bug compared to me, based on your poor choices. But, thanks to your perverted fantasies about me, I think you're going to positively thrive in your new role."

 

 

 

My mother was smiling as she brought me to the front of her big toe. She slowly stroked me across the bulging, comparatively soft flesh on the tip of her toe and her eyes were strangely amused. "You have a bigger problem than just being a bug, Mikey- your mother absolutely loves tiny people. I love being huge, even if that's just in my own head and in my own home. But, I like especially how you feel. I have some… well, some special places on my body that are very sensitive. You're already familiar with a few of my favorites. But, there are more places that I'd like to try. In a way, I'm a bit relieved that you were ruining your life. I won't feel like I'm taking advantage of you so much."

 

 

 

My skyscraper sized mother smiled tenderly and stroked my face across the smelly ridges of her toe, "I'm also glad that it's you that I'm sharing this experience with. This is very personal for me, Mikey. It's… slightly embarrassing and a little bit kinky. But, we have a special kind of trust now, don't we? I know all about your perverse little fantasies involving me. Perhaps it's time you understood a little bit better some of my fantasies involving tiny people like you? I think so. But, so far, we mesh very, very well together. Amazingly so, I think." I could not tell if this was an act. Was she mocking me? "Well… I've intentionally given you the perfect size for this next special place. It might be good for you to consider this as just another demonstration of how our relationship is right now. Perhaps you feel a bit better about everything if you convince yourself that I'm just punishing you. That I'm not going to be enjoying this immensely. Maybe that would help."

 

Before I knew what was happening she slid me across her big toe's massive tip and I was rammed against the underside of her long toenail. My mother's pretty face grew huge as it lowered overhead. "That's the spot, that's nice. Mmm!" My head was forced backwards painfully against the great, hornlike structure as she dragged me across this horrifying place. One of my kicking legs plunged between her toenail and flesh for a moment before I ripped it free with a panic-stricken tug. "Ooh! Oh god!" Everything quaked violently as my colossal mother twitched. She let out a thunderous giggle and her cheeks flushed.

 

 

 

"Mmm. Now you be a good little toy and hold still. I don't want to hurt you, Mikey."

 

 

 

Both beautiful hands converged on my tiny form. My mother's huge red nails were used like hulking, blunt tweezers to manipulate my inch long body. I was trembling but I forced myself to remain compliant. I could be fatally crushed beneath or between her immaculate digits if I were to struggle and leverage my feeble nakedness where it wouldn't survive her delicate movements.

 

 

.

Once I realized what she had planned for me my body instinctively became rigid and I began to shriek. My mother's vast face smiled tranquilly as she delicately slid half of my body beneath the long nail of her big toe. "Oh, Mikey! You're a perfect fit!" I was babbling madly as my mother carefully captured and stowed my tiny toothpick-like arms and legs beneath her long shapely toenail.

 

 

 

"Oh! That's absolutely wonderful, Mikey!" I felt like I was going to get sick as the world spun. In a moment I could see her flushed, colossal grinning face beyond my terrible prison. My flexible, athletic mother had brought her toes up to her vast face.

 

 

 

"Scream! That's it, Mikey! Oh! Such adorable little screams coming out from under my toenail! That's just divine!" She was laughing at me, her eyes watering with mirth. Several of her enormous fingertips lightly danced and brushed across the horrific crevice, sending tremors through the impenetrable flesh.

 

 

 

"Aww, look at those handsome little muscles. I can see you straining!" My cruel mother squinted and one of her fingertips gently probed the densely plump shelf I had become wedged against. The edge of her monumental fingernail touched and stroked my tortured, weeping form softly.

 

 

 

"I can feel you breathing and your tiny sobs! How is it underneath of there, Mikey? Is it comfortable? You don't look so comfortable." She was smirking and her tongue peeked out and pressed against the bottoms of her upper teeth.

 

 

 

My mother was savoring my predicament with a leisurely, cheery delight. Something inside of me snapped just then. I began shrieking incoherently as I peered out of my hellish confinement and straight into my own mother's amused and aroused face. My breakdown only caused her to smile in delight.

 

 

 

"Aww, I really like those little screams. They sound like happy little squeaks to me." My mother's pretty face became focused, her beautiful mouth pursed. Her massive fingertip loomed huge in front of me and it's fingernail's edge pressed carefully against my head. "Squeak, squeak," she whispered, her eyes gleaming mischievously. I was roaring, my spit was plied into gossamer threads that bridged the thick edge of her probing nail and my unhinged expression. My spine was bent backwards as my tiny head was buried deeper into the dreadful trap."There, all snug like a bug... like my bug. Mmm, so nice." Her fingernail tamped gently against the curled length of my tiny quivering body before abandoning me.

 

 

 

My cruel mother kissed the tip of her big toe lightly and her mouth floated there, just beyond my grotesque prison. "I want you to struggle under there, Mikey," she whispered sultrily, hammering my tiny body with her hushed words, "Wiggle for mommy. Just imagine you're dancing, alright? That's not so hard, is it?"

 

 

 

The beautiful lips softly collided with the tip of her toe in another kiss. "You were a good little stripper, weren't you? But now you've been promoted to my toe toy. So do just as good of a job at this. Make me proud. Remember, you're still using that sexy body of yours to entertain with."

 

 

 

My mother's luscious mouth floated even closer, her vast lips almost touching her toe. My inescapable view as she spoke her next words was erotic and humbling, almost grotesque. Her gigantic lips impacted against one another almost violently in her hushed speech. I witnessed the brief flashes of the wet hints of her teeth and tongue just beyond those crushing, seamed pillows as each consonant was articulated.

 

 

 

The sight of that beautiful mouth whispering so close to my tiny body was traumatic enough. It was like crouching too closely to the mechanical aspects of some huge, dangerous machine. But, the words she whispered were drawn out, filled with a ridicule-tinged gravity which cut through me entirely. "Oh, don't worry! You're still a sexy hunk, Mikey, even if you've been reduced to a tiny, warm lump wedged and twitching against the tip of your own mother's toe. Mmm." I sobered for a moment from my struggling and I felt fresh tears course down my cheeks.

 

 

 

"Aww. Are you crying, my little bug? You're not struggling very much, Mikey. Mommy needs to remedy that, doesn't she?" My mother's vast lower lip tucked itself beneath her upper teeth as she squeezed it in a bite sexily. She slowly scrunched her massive big toe as I howled and begged her for mercy. My trapped and helpless body was compressed again and again until I could do no more than whimper.

 

 

 

"Mmm. I could just eat you up, couldn't I?"

 

 

 

As I lay there panting, the massive, beautiful mouth which hung in front of my diabolical prison puckered. It grew huge as my mother's toe came in much closer to her lower face. I was weakly screaming as my cruel tormentor slid her big toe into her mouth. The light faded as my tiny eardrums popped. Beyond my dreadful trap was the immense, shadowy cavern of my skyscraper-sized mother's mouth.

 

 

 

I was deafened by the violent squelching of thick saliva as she gently pumped her own big toe across her tongue. In a panic, I pushed against the sticky, smelly flesh which held me in place, trying to wedge myself further beneath her toenail. She began to hum as she engulfed her toe and it was a terrible, inescapable thunder that almost knocked me unconscious. A moment later, with a deafening smack of her lips I was out and into the light once again.

 

 

 

The glistening lips set into my mother's lower face curled into a smile as they floated at some distance away from me. "Wiggle for mommy," she whispered before a gigantic fingertip collided with the horn-like awning of her long toenail. I caught a glimpse of a thumb sweep in simultaneously just beneath the huge digit I lay wedged against. The mouth grinned widely as the smelly toenail crevice I was trapped within was compressed between her fingers. I howled, quivering, as my tiny naked body was pressed into the hard keratin ceiling by the sticky swell of my mother's fattening, heaving toepad. I saw her smiling, flushed face for only an instant before my world spun and my stomach roiled as my mother relaxed her leg back onto the bed again.

 

My mother left me in my nightmarish prison for a long time. For a while the monstrous being mocked me, cooing syrupy platitudes as she scrunched her thick digit. I was berserk with panic, yet no matter how much I struggled I could not extricate myself from between the press of the huge, curved keratin surface and the steamy, soft flesh. I quickly tired from my futile efforts to escape, but I did not give up. I rested between my struggles, mired and held pressed like a doomed bug, marshaling my energy for my next attempt. Each time I would explode with a blind, clawing effort I could hear her boom with laughter as my prison bucked and rocked with mirth.

 

I was glad I could not see my mother's face. Her laughter eventually turned to giggling, and that soon took on a bawdy, breathy edge. She grew quieter during my physical outbursts for a while. During an especially desperate attempt, as I managed to hook my foot against the thick edge of her toenail for leverage, her giggle ended in a suppressed moan. In my disgust and horror I gave up and lay still, gritting my teeth against the fierce tingling in my deeply caught hips from lack of blood flow. The tall, rotund and feminine prison tower which hid my entire tiny body flexed slowly, in a gentle rhythm. I grew drowsy, but I couldn't fall asleep! That terrible tingling kept spreading-I might never wake back up. I heard another distant moan as my mother pleasured herself. The cruel big toe's gentle movement was like being rocked…

 

I awoke suddenly, my prison was quaking and shuddering powerfully. I knew what had to have just transpired, but I pushed the thought of it away. I concentrated on flexing every muscle in my body to hopefully counter the buzzing, ever creeping tingling. This was a terrible place to die, and though I thought it odd, I did not want to die.

 

Ten minutes later my fleshy perch tilted and lowered to the mattress. The noise of crumpling sheets was punctuated by the protesting growls of an immense weight shifting on the mattress. Fingertips the size of oil rig equipment came into view beyond my fantastical, unnatural and cruel concealment and hovered there.

 

"Thank you, Mikey. I think that was worth another ten dollars to me. Let's see, I believe you only have fifteen dollars to go. You truly are a natural at this, you know. I see now, because of you, that an early retirement does not necessarily mean that I must drift, directionless and unneeded. I can still have a sense of satisfaction! I can still feel alive! You just spread smiles all around, don't you? I was feeling a void in my life, Mikey. Could you possibly know what it's like to feel you belong to a larger whole? To feel like you are counted upon, valued? I suppose you do now, don't you?"

 

My unseen tormentor laughed deafeningly and the huge toe reared back, causing me to feel sick with sudden dizziness.

 

Fingertips softly collided into the tip of the huge toe, the long red nails pried the pale, soft flesh downwards and I was suddenly free. I clawed and crawled forwards, and as I changed position my lower body was no longer choked. Feedback through my nerves caused me to moan and a moment later muscle spasms in strange, unfortunate places wracked my tiny form. I cried out in terrible pain and thrashed, rolling uncontrollable down the softly curving ridged cliff.

 

"Goodness! Was it a tight fit in there? Maybe next time-"

 

I dropped and landed hard in a heap on the wide raft of upturned, firm fingertips awaiting me below. An internal rumbling filled my ears, my vision dimmed and I was overwhelmed. Darkness took me away from the wave of pain.

 

Linda brought the tiny being close to her face and studied him. He looked fine, but he was obviously passed out, perhaps worse. She raised her upturned palm close to her eyes and with slow, restrained breaths watched him for several minutes. He was breathing, that much was sure. Linda bit her lip with concern, she certainly hoped she had not broken her toy. She gingerly pinched his calves between her fingertips and slowly dragged him to the center of her palm. Linda covered him up in her fist and got up off her bed, taking slow, steady steps as if she carried an over-full glass of water, slowly crossing her bedroom.

 

Linda retrieved a ring box from the back of her walk in closet. Still only using one hand she managed to flip it open. She plucked out the imitation velvet insert and shook any detritus from out of the little box. Linda made a hasty bed from a single sheet of toilet paper folded messily between the fingertips of her free hand. Prodding that down inside the ring box she ever so gently placed her tiny, naked son's unconscious form within. She brought the ring box very close to one of her eyes and invaded the tiny room with the tip of her little finger. She used the end of her long fingernail to rearrange his tiny limbs into something that resembled comfort. She hesitated for a moment, staring down at him. Linda had to consciously force herself to leave him be. She reminded herself of just how delicate he was. This was not at all like last night, this was not nail polish fumes driving him into a hallucinatory stupor. Linda had been too reckless, for too long, and in her desire for a nice, strong release had pushed his tiny body beyond what it could cope with.

 

Linda dryly kissed the tip of her little finger and lowered it onto her son. She smiled down at him as she deposited her affection, her digit lingering there for a moment as she enjoyed just how tiny he was.

 

He just needed time to recuperate and he would be right as rain soon enough. Linda gently shut the little ring box and left it in the middle of the kitchen table. She took a nice, long shower, ridding herself of the dregs of her morning activities. After dressing, Linda found herself feeling restless. The giddiness and excitement of shrinking and playing with Mike had stopped so abruptly. She felt strangely alive, moving into unknown territory where her self-discipline was challenged. Linda felt young -not that she wasn't- but she felt nicely out of her element for the first time in quite a while. She knew that if she were to stay here, waiting on tiny Mike to recover enough for more play time she would drive herself crazy.

 

As Linda towel dried her hair she ventured into the living room. Mike's clothes were a flattened pile in front of her favorite chair. Linda actually giggled out loud upon seeing them. She wrapped her hair up in the sumptuous towel before bending over what was left of her son's last moments as a young man. Linda picked through his clothes, and even enjoyed smelling his now-stale and crumpled shirt. She fished out his wallet and then went through his other pockets. She gathered up his keys and the dark, glass rectangle that was his phone.

 

Linda reclined on her couch, tucking her legs up underneath of her. She tapped the dark glass of the phone until it came alive. She was immediately surprised, there was no puzzle, no identity lock nor password keypad. It seemed that several minimized apps had kept his phone awake. Linda realized that it had been slowly consuming it's battery all through the night. She quickly went to her computer and tethered the phone to a USB port. Linda relaxed in her expensive computer chair as she looked through her son's phone.

 

There were several videos that were apparently shot at the strip club. Drunken, rowdy and stupid snippets of fun nights with friends at the bar. Linda backed out of the video folder and went in to his saved photographs. Poorly composed pictures of beer bottles strewn across a secondhand table. An endless collection of selfies, scores of young people making faces as they pressed in next to Mike. Linda noticed several college aged people recurring as impromptu subjects, but one stood out. She was a beautiful girl, dark-haired and dark eyed. She reminded Linda of that actress, the one that used to be on the soap opera. Linda could not remember the name of that particular soap opera, she never followed such things as she never had the time, nor the inclination.

 

As Linda browsed deeper into the photographs she realized that this was probably Mike's girlfriend. Then there was a series of photographs on what looked to be a rented house boat. This girl was posed naked on the top deck, stretched out on a beach towel, her perfect grin and perfect body captured with the highest resolution Mike's phone was capable of. Linda backed out of the photographs folder and continued laying bare the disjointed evidence of her son's college life.

 

Linda made her way to the removable storage portion of Mike's phone. Immediately there were several folders with cryptic names which jumped out at her. She opened the most intriguing one which was named "Engage!". Linda knew that name was a reference to one of Mike's favorite television shows when he was young. But what she saw within surprised her. Photographs of a candlelit dinner someplace upscale, the dark-haired girl laughing, gazing lovingly at the photographer through his lens. There were at least forty other photographs of this event, but there was a video as well within the folder. Linda coaxed the little video to life.

 

Mike had proposed to her. She had accepted, laughing and then bursting into happy tears. Linda stopped the video. Her soft, well-kept hands were shaking. Linda hunkered down, peering into the phone in front of her face. She checked the date on the video. Two months ago. Two whole months. Mike had said nothing! He was so callous as to completely cut Linda out of the loop, out of his life. Tears formed in her eyes but Linda held them back. She was not going to give in, she was not prone to such things and now was not the time. Linda glared at the wall of the living room exactly where the tiny ring box sat in the kitchen, on the table, confining within her new toy. Her headstrong, selfish and brashly stupid toy.

 

What did Linda do to deserve this? How could Mike be so cold?

 

Her mind completely absorbed with her son's recent engagement, Linda's fingertip roamed mindlessly across the icons. Before she knew it, she had maximized an app that had been running this entire time. At first, Linda did not know what she was looking at. A map of the city, obviously. But there was more than that, location data, a yellow pinpoint on the map, time data. Linda shook off her brooding thoughts as curiosity took hold of her.

 

It took Linda nearly fifteen minutes to understand what this was. It was tracking software. She found that Mike had saved condensed, hyphenated "reports" from this app into a folder on the removable storage. Linda watched every sparse animation held within. Finally she understood what she was looking at. Mike suspected his fiancée of infidelity. Linda realized that each report was a summary of what happened on either Monday, Wednesday, or Friday between the hours of 7 PM and 1 AM. These had to be the hours that her son was dancing at the strip club. But there was more. Mike's girlfriend often ended up at the same place for several hours at a time. Linda thought the address through: this was the apartment complex where Mike lived.

 

With great care Linda took hold of the ring box and very slowly raised it to her face. She gently pried back the lid, revealing Mike's still form within. She slowly raised the little makeshift room until a huge blue eye hovered just beyond it's steep salmon-colored velvet walls. Linda grinned as the sound of infinitely tiny snoring reached her ears.

 

She whispered softly, "Mommy has picked her birthday present, Mike. Maybe even two presents, if I'm lucky. You just rest, lover boy. Be good while I'm gone."

 

She lowered a finger over his clean-shaven chest and snoring face and then paused. Linda retracted the finger with a certain amount of regret. She closed the little box and slowly put it back in the center of her kitchen table.

 

She picked up Mike's keys and his phone on her way out. She got into Mike's car and plugged the phone into the power receptacle in the center of the dashboard. Linda propped the phone at an angle where she could see it as she drove. She hummed to herself happily as she backed out of her driveway.

 

They were really going at it. Steve kept repositioning on the slick six-hundred thread count sheets, always shifting forward on his knees until finally Jesse was pinned in the corner where the two walls met. Steve was slightly more satisfied that Jesse's hips could no longer accidentally retreat. The mattress was slowly turning off of it's foundation and the few pictures on the walls rattled in time with Steve's determined and metered thrusts.

 

Jesse's face was covered with fresh sweat and she alternated between a determined, rigid and almost painful looking meditation and a spark filled lusty glare. She raked her short nails across Steve's tanned back and it spurred her lover on to deeper and livelier action.

 

The doorbell rang.

 

"Oh, well fuck!" exclaimed Steve with a groan.

 

"Who could that be?"

 

Jesse pushed herself up, causing Steve to shiver as their bodies separated with a parting, friction-induced tickle. Steve brushed his unkempt and wet blue bangs out of his eyes. He rolled across the mattress and was lightly on his feet. He grabbed up his khaki shorts and quickly got them on.

 

"Landlord, maybe the neighbor across the hall, that crazy bitch, it better not be her again. Who fucking knows? I'll be right back."

 

Steve grinned mischievously and his green eyes twinkled. Jesse grinned back and the two quickly kissed. Steve quietly left the room and shut the door. Jesse sat up and dragged her purse onto the bed. She fished around within it for her phone.

 

Steve made his way to the embarrassingly small, apartment-sized foyer. Jesse woke up the app from it's slumber.

 

Her eyes grew wide, "shit! Steve! He's here!" Jesse leapt out of Steve's bed and cursed as she tried to separate her clothes from the mess on Steve's bedroom floor.

 

Steve threw open the door without even checking the security aperture. His expectations of who waited on the other side were wildly wrong. Standing before him, clad in slinky black tights and a scant, expensive top was the kind of woman you would expect to see inside of a frame of some sort. Be it a television, movie, computer screen or a magazine, perhaps even a billboard. Yet strangely, luckily, Steve found her within the battered frame of his apartment's door. If Jesse was a sort of vibrant and warm, irresistible beauty, this woman was an age-old, often poorly imitated archetype, cold and refined. High cheekbones and a gentle rounded chin framed in the canvas of smooth, golden tanned face. Sumptuous, archetypical feminine lips and above a long, small, straight nose capped with a faceted and classically beautiful button end. It was, yet again, an archetypical feminine nose, Nordic or Dutch, one which plastic surgeons tried to replicate with varying degrees of success for their unhappy and sometimes niggling patients. Brilliant blue eyes smiled back at Steve, and they were surmounted by high, delicately arched eyelids complete with symmetrical, well-tended eyebrows. Long, silvery blonde hair crowned her head. Steve knew she was older, but not by how much, her baby fat had been replaced by a pleasantly lean, fit shape composed of nice curves which hinted at strength, at religiously performed Pilates and Yoga.

 

This was the wife of a rock star or a professional athlete. The Trophy, but now relegated to a perennially favorite flavor in this most modern and global world. She was dressed like an upper middle class professional who was going to a rock concert. The beauty was smiling at him enigmatically and Steve realized his cock felt a bit heavier and a bit more aroused. She wasn't personally ever a trophy, Steve could sense, there was a capable and probably interesting person behind those unreadable and almost antiseptically blue eyes.

 

Linda understood immediately how Mike ended up at the strip club. This had to be his roommate, his conspirator and confidant. She could see the crazy and the opportunistic chaos in his eyes. Mike had simply listened and this young man couldn't help but suggest what he considered to be “good” ideas. Linda recognized him as one of the other dancers, but all she could think about when she looked at him was motorcycles. He looked like the kind of guy to own a dirt bike, one of those adrenaline junkies who vented their frustrations with a skateboard, a parachute, and a hundred other things. His hair was blue and the sides were buzzed bare up high above his ears in a thick, messy mohawk. Linda noted that in a few more years, with a little bit more age this young man might look the part of a rugged gunfighter, an adventurer, a man. But for right now, this was a tanned and sinewy party boy with a crooked smile who did not just give in to his whims, but rolled in them like a dog who found something particularly nasty on the side of a road to delight in entirely.

 

"Hi!" Steve grinned, and that single word was filled with an overly-gregarious delight, lust coloring it's edges.

 

"Hello! Is Mike around?" Linda smiled back, she couldn't contain it, but it was perfectly fine. She knew full well that look in the boy's eyes and she matched it.

 

"Nope. He went out to his mom's. He told me he might spend the weekend out there. If he comes back today, it probably won't be until late tonight. Can I do something for you?"

 

"Can I come in? I need to talk to him. Maybe I can leave a note with you? It's important."

 

"Sure."

 

Steve opened the door further and stepped back politely. She gracefully stepped past him and looked around the little living room. Steve liked how she smelled, an expensive perfume, unidentifiable to him, which was no surprise, really. There was just a hint of it in the breeze of her wake as she passed by him.

 

"Are you a friend of Mike's?"

 

She was digging in her purse. Out first came a sizable and beautiful bottle of perfume. She began to assemble a semi-circle of unwanted things around it on the counter top as she hunted.

 

"I'm an attorney. I've been trying to get a hold of him for a while now. He won't return my messages. I guess he's busy."

 

Steve thought it was a little strange that she might be carrying such a huge bottle of perfume in that little purse. He was looking over the bottle as she spoke. It looked old. Very old. Something you might find in an Austrian museum, something one of the Czars might give to a daughter or a wife.

 

"He told me he was getting married. Well, he asked me to draw up a prenuptial agreement." Linda smiled at Steve. "Oh, you like that, do you?"

 

"My parents were hoping I would get a business degree, maybe even a law degree. But I'm majoring in history. So, yeah, that's really nice. It looks old. Handmade."

 

The unashamedly teutonic beauty smiled sweetly at Steve.

 

"It is! It's been in my family for a long time." She put down her pen and paper on the counter and hefted the perfume bottle. "Of course, what is inside isn't that old. But the contents are very valuable. That's why I keep it in this bottle. The thick crystal keeps it thermally stabilized. I just have to keep it out of the sun. That's the point of these old decanters. Works like a charm, as it should. People who lived long ago were not stupid, as you know."

 

Steve nodded silently in agreement.

 

"Hey! Would you like to smell it?"

 

"Nah. I'm not into perfume. Thanks, though."

 

Off came the cap into one pretty hand. A lawyer, Steve thought, she's lying, she's a model or something. An anchor-woman? How could someone like this survive in such a misogynistic, piggish white man infested profession?

 

"Oh, come on! This is the only perfume like it in the entire world!"

 

Steve's neck pulled back as he looked incredulous, "no, really? Wow. No wonder you keep it like that. But why are you carrying it around inside your-"

 

There was a sharp, short hiss as Linda depressed the atomizer. Steve's face was assaulted by the sudden and expanding faint blue cloud.

 

"Aw, fuck!" Steve grimaced and backpedaled blindly, almost knocking over a bar stool.

 

Linda waited for a moment to allow the cloud to dissipate. With a large grin she squatted on her haunches over the almost-empty shorts. With a finger she gingerly felt around in the folds of cloth. Her fingertip encountered something tiny and warm to her touch. She chuckled under her breath as she deliberately scared him, gently stroking her finger over the hidden, thrashing form. Tiny screams barely reached her ears, they were so magical to her, and she wondered why. It was the juxtaposition, she decided. Her smallest of actions were transformed into such devastating and powerful expression. She was merely sampling the feedback, the collated result of her actions as screams and terror. The diligent report of her affectation cast back to her from a tiny, difficult to view world where Linda was a monster and so much more. She realized that she had been gently pressing the young man's tiny form beneath her fingertip as she pondered her own psychology. She did not want to cause the preciously tiny thing a heart attack, did she? Linda grinned broadly, right in front of her, yet again, was that delicious juxtaposition. She slowly captured the tiny body and lifted it free. She brought the naked young man up to her face and grinned as he bellowed in terror.

 

Linda whispered softly to him, "do you want to see something beautiful? Hmm? I'll show you, but you can't tell anyone. Promise? Okay then. In you go."

 

Linda stood up and hooked a pretty thumb into her waistband, gently tugging outwards. Her newest plaything struggled as his tiny screams grew frantic, high-pitched. Linda leaned against the counter as she gently maneuvered the struggling insect sized being in past the tangle of fine, soft blonde hair. She was already wet with sweat and arousal. She giggled as his diminutive naked body adhered face first to the glistening wall of her labia. With an unstoppable fingertip she pushed him into a brutal greeting with the silky, slick press of her sex. She didn't want to kill him, she wanted to cradle him right at the edge of the abyss of her, of her internal biology. Let him move around and explore if he wants, she thought to herself, she would most intimately know if he ranged too far and needed some gentle correction. Linda ran her hands delicately across her crotch, patting down and smoothing out her panties and tights against her contours. There was no need to give him a way out

 

Linda stowed the ephemera of her purse back in place as she fought to keep her composure. Every tiny, tickling movement was magnified into a hot, unpredictable jolt. With a little smile she retrieved Mike's phone and checked the app. As her scalp tingled from the hidden and near-mythic struggle happening somewhere between her legs, she realized that the positioning algorithms were unusually kind for the moment. No more than thirty feet away from her, probably in this very apartment, was the source that Mike had been tracking. Linda stepped over the crumpled shorts and softly crept back through the hallway. Right in front of her was the signal and she slipped the phone into her purse. Linda slowly opened the door as she called out.

 

"Hello? Is there anyone in here? Hello?"

 

Standing in the middle of the messy, funky smelling bedroom was the beautiful girl from Mike's photographs. Her clothes were disheveled, her tousled hair was gleaming with sweat and her eyes were huge. Linda peered at her past the door's frame.

 

"Hello! Oh! I remember now! Brenda! That character's name on the soap opera was Brenda!"

 

"Steve? Steve!"

 

"It's okay, sweetie. Steve had to go somewhere. Don't be frightened!"

 

"I know you from somewhere. I've seen you before."

 

Linda stepped into the room, smiling apologetically as she did so. She tried to appear nervous, meek and awkward at the prospect of her intrusion. She wanted to establish a common ground without a threat. She would not chase this unfaithful, skittish creature into the street.

 

"Well, I doubt it. Unless I handled a court case for you or maybe a relative. That's always a possibility, I guess."

 

Linda suppressed a shudder of pleasure as her toy, Steve as she now knew, struggled against the hot and gluey edifice of flesh that threatened to suffocate him. Linda reached out and took one of the beautiful girl's hands into hers. She gently squeezed her hand as she smiled.

 

"Why don't you sit down? I need to call a cab. I'll just be a minute and then we can get to know each other better."

 

Jesse pulled away from Linda's grasp, she shot her a gravely concerned look as she began to move away. She stepped nervously past her into the hallway as she called for Steve again, at once she sounded less frightened yet much more concerned for her friend. Linda auto-dialed the cab company and spoke to them briefly as she eyed the rumpled bed with amusement.

 

Linda found her in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water.

 

"Hi."

 

Jesse looked up at her, suspicion, concern and a bit of fright all crowded her face, vying for control.

 

"I don't understand. Where is Steve?"

 

"I told you. Something came up, I guess."

 

"But… But those are his shorts."

 

"He put on some sweatpants and an old shirt."

 

Jesse's eyes softened a bit. She stared at Linda hard.

 

"I just came over hoping to catch Mike. But I guess he's not here."

 

Linda set her purse down on the cluttered coffee table and sat down on the couch. She patted the reclining chair across from her as she held the bottle close to her flat tummy.

 

"Come and sit down with me. I have to wait for my cab anyways. I hope it's okay if I wait in here with you?"

 

Jesse shook her head as if snapping out of a daze. She relaxed visibly, over her fright a bit. Linda was inwardly amused, demonstrate two minutes of expected behavior and a person will choose the path of least resistance, despite logic. Homeostasis itself smiled on tricksters.

 

"Yeah, that's fine." Jesse wandered over to the chair and sat down across from Linda, "Mike went to visit his mother."

 

Linda raised the bottle to her nose, appraising it, and then smiled at her. Jesse's eyes grew wide, she didn't even notice or care that the blonde woman removed it's silver top. Why would she?

 

"Wait a minute!" Jesse's pretty mouth gaped as she tried to understand. She stood up from the chair quite suddenly and brought her hands up to her face.

 

"That's where I've seen you! You-"

 

The cloud caused Jesse to stagger. As she choked she clawed at the air. She fell to her knees right in front of Linda. Linda raised an eyebrow at her while she slid the cap back in place. The girl's face was filled with confusion and then she disappeared. Her clothes retained their shape for a quarter of a second before collapsing.

 

Linda slipped her feet out of her sandals. She wiggled her toes in anticipation as she lowered her lovely feet over the pile of discarded clothing. She took hold of the closest folded peak of cloth between her toes and lifted it away. Jesse's tiny form lay face down in the center of the pile. Linda could not help but be reminded of the tiny porcelain ballerinas which presided over expensive music boxes. No, that wasn't it, but she knew why those music boxes instantly came to mind: ballerinas. Ballerinas as fairy in various productions, laying in graceful repose. This girl accidentally mimicked that graceful posture perfectly. Linda grinned.

 

"Wake up, wake up, my tiny fairy! The evil stepmother wants to know why you prefer the bad boys to her good son?"

 

Jesse stirred and raised her tiny head.

 

"That's it! Wake up my wee little toe fairy! You have some pollinating to do," Linda laughed loudly. An image of poor Mikey trapped like sock-lint beneath the tip of her toenail caused her to smile. "You'll have to be careful and fast though, my teentsy Brenda, or the pretty red petals might trap you."

 

 

Jesse didn't know where she was.

 

She raised her head, listening to the sound of the thunder. But, it wasn't thunder. What was that? It was words. A curiously deep voice, incredibly powerful and loud. As Jesse listened she realized it was a feminine voice, but it was amplified louder than any voice she had ever heard before. It hurt her head, and it was echoing slightly. She caught the last words, intentionally listening to them and teasing away the bassy and smoothly deep notes of it. Something about petals, red petals trapping someone?

 

Where was Jesse? All around her was a strange material, white ropes woven into a very, very thick cloth. It lay around her for tens of feet, huge wrinkles and rolls of it, like some immense sail had collapsed from it's mast. It formed a strange kind of a landscape that looked to be treacherous except for the fact it seemed somewhat yielding and malleable under her feet.

 

Jesse realized she was naked. She was naked! For some idiotic reason Jesse looked around underneath of her where she stood for her clothes. Then she saw something, a strange white band of ribbed material, something twisted and mostly buried in the jumbled landscape off to one side. The top of the white band had large cutouts, flowery, frilly decorations. It was at least three feet wide, but besides that one monstrous oddity it was like the trim of her underwear. Just like the trim of her…

 

There was a strong breeze from directly overhead, compressed air like that which could be shunted off of a dangerously turbulent sky in July, minutes before the violence of a thunderstorm arrived. The air had a distinctive smell, though it was subtle, the volume of it made it obvious to her. Sweet human sweat, lavender and something else. It was mostly of feminine sweat, clean and strangely untainted. But, not Jesse's sweat, definitely not Steve's. Not the sweat of sex or of labor. Right underneath the note of sweat was a slightly cheesy smell, almost as of clean feet midway through a day. This smell almost rivaled the sweat and was mingled tightly with it. There was something else mixed in the wind, but Jesse could not readily identify it. It was what gave the smell it's femininity, as if Jesse were smelling a stranger's scalp. It was the scent of a specific person. The ancestral remnants of scent detectors could key in only this far. Jesse was too far removed, too highly evolved for life upon the ground to glean any more information than this.

 

Jesse felt like someone was watching her. She could not make sense of what lay beyond the white jumble of cloth. There was something…

 

The tiny, sensitive hairs on the back of Jesse's neck reacted as another wave of that sweaty, cheesy smell washed over her along with a great heat. Behind her. There was something…

 

Jesse spun around, her eyes already large, ready to search, ready to locate whomever was…

 

The shiny red object was right there, suspended vertically, directly behind her. Jesse jumped backwards with a shriek of surprise. She tripped on a swell of the thick material and fell onto her ass. Not a car's hood, not a door. Much, much too large. Jesse tried to take in what she was seeing. The bright red surface was at least as tall as she and much wider. Shaped in silhouette almost like an overly-long arched doorway of a castle or monastery. But it was convex and bowed. Then Jesse saw it for what it was, saw the flesh surrounding it, saw that it was merely a significant piece of a much larger thing.

 

It was a woman's toe, a big toe, and it was perhaps fifteen feet long and easily eight feet wide if not bulkier. Off to one side were the other four monsters, each toenail glossy red. The red toenail of the big toe was slightly long, proudly jutting past the incredible rounded flesh. Jesse was shrieking, lost completely in her fear and panic. She crawled backwards rapidly, the sudden adrenaline allowed her joints and tendons and musculature to momentarily act incredibly, driving her quickly across the chaos of white material.

 

It was a monstrous bare foot, perhaps sixty foot in length, vertically towering up into the air, no, it was dangling down. It hovered there, the toes hanging downwards and almost touching the floor. It was beautiful, a foot out of a commercial for feminine callus remover, a foot which belonged in a shoe catalog, something from a billboard. High-arched and without blemish, the nails and cuticles flawless, logically ready for a camera, or a wealthy and kinky husband's mouth. Another one, identical to the first but a mirror image landed softly behind it onto the floor, sending harsh tremors through Jesse.

 

Jesse didn't think to look up further than the enormous rounded heel, she didn't have time to. She was too busy screaming as the big toe gracefully floated, suspended in the air, following her awkward backwards scrambling. The screams caught in her throat as Jesse's instincts were overridden by the overwhelming panic. Jesse managed to just get to her feet but that was all. The huge toenail slammed into her. Jesse was thrown backwards at least ten feet, tossed bodily by the slowly flexing digit.

 

Jesse landed hard and the white material bunched up around her head and shoulders as she slid. The wind had been knocked from her and she lay there blinking, dazed. Jesse realized something. She could now see a pretty blonde woman. Who was that? Why did she look so familiar? Jesse wished she could call out to her, it was obvious that the woman had not seen the gigantic pretty feet. Jesse felt sorry for her. She was smiling right at Jesse, bent over her, trying to help her. She was going to be flicked as well, or even worse crushed. It was such a crazy thought, to be crushed to paste by some foot model's gorgeous and rightfully pampered moneymakers. It was too bad, the woman was quite beautiful, without a shred of make-up. She could very easily be a model herself. A model crushed by a model. She seemed like she might be a nice person with how she was smiling. Jesse hoped that the woman might turn away if Jesse was the one to be crushed first. No one should bear that psychological burden.

 

Suddenly, Jesse could breathe. She sucked in a grateful and shaky breath.

 

"You… You have to get out of here! You need to run! You need to hide, please…"

 

There was a black rounded and featureless form which interposed itself partially between Jesse and woman's face. It floated there, just beneath the woman's chin. Jesse couldn't feel her touching her, but it had to be her elbow, or something. Why wasn't she running? Why did Jesse get the feeling that the woman found her terrible plight amusing? The beautiful blonde leaned in, closer to her, smiling at her as if Jesse had farted in public or tripped while drunk. There was a definite cold and superior amusement in her eyes. Was she going to say something to her? Whisper something to her? Her beautiful face was so close now, just above Jesse's own.

 

"No! There is no time! No time to talk, you have to go, you have to…"

 

The beautiful face suddenly grinned unabashedly, tinged with a sort of jovial cruelty. Jesse was struck harshly by the woman's callous reaction. What was going on? What had Jesse missed? She had the distinct feeling that this woman was about to do something terrible to her. Steal from her? But Jesse was naked. The woman's expression shifted and she stared down at Jesse with a terrifyingly predatory look. As Jesse blinked in shock her mysterious rescuer's expression changed to a look of rapt concentration. The blonde lady squinted at her and bit her full lower lip.

 

The dark rounded form moved while in place and became the knee crowning the top of a black fabric covered shin. There was an ankle on the end of the shin, right where the black tights ended. It was so close to Jesse, filling her vision. She blinked stupidly, not understanding at all what she was seeing. Had she been drugged? Something was wrong with her vision… Was that it? But the woman was just above her? She wasn't reclined with her leg towards Jesse... no... nothing made sense.

 

The woman's ankle moved and then the entire lower leg in Jesse's view was blotted out by an expanse of flesh rearing upwards over Jesse. Her confusion abruptly ended with a horrible finality as she realized what it was: the bottom of that colossal big toe. It hovered to directly above Jesse and she suddenly realized something impossible. The beautiful feet belonged to the familiar looking blonde woman. She was not leaning or crouched right above Jesse trying to help her. She was unfathomably gargantuan and very far away, almost directly over Jesse.

 

Jesse could see the beautiful face beyond the enormous toe to one side. The woman smiled haughtily, filled with a casual and smug satisfaction. Jesse's blood turned to ice as the single blue eye she could see was locked on her.

 

"No. No. No. No! Please don't! I don't… I don't want to be crushed! Please don't crush me under your toe! Nooooo!"

 

The big toe tilted downwards, the incredible front of it, the tip of it pointed at her. It lowered slowly onto Jesse, still not touching her as it flooded her naked body with humid heat. Jesse tried to make it up on her arms to escape and the monstrous digit bulged as it compressed downwards away from her before rearing slightly as it came on. The thick edge of the jutting toenail caught Jesse across her breasts and her face was momentarily slammed into the broad surface just above the edge. She was lazily flicked backwards onto her back again. There was a coppery, metallic tinge to her air intake and Jesse knew that her nose was bleeding.

 

The enormous and distant pretty face slide out sideways from beyond the impossible toe. The blonde was smiling widely, the tip of her tongue touched her top teeth with an amused relishing. The very tip of the beautiful big toe lowered straight onto her. Jesse was screaming hoarsely and flailing as the long nail slid downwards above her head.

 

 

 

Jesse pushed vainly against the unvarnished underside of the toenail with her tiny arms as it continued to drop. The ridges of the glistening, enormous flesh pressed into all of her skin on the front of her body from her breasts downwards. That cheesy, sweaty smell was all around her. The endless skin covering the nightmarish feet was it's origin, this was the smiling woman's scent. The thick, bulging wall continued to lower after Jesse was touching it. Jesse's breasts were flattened painfully. Jesse's head was not crushed, instead it slid between the long underside of the thick toenail and the rounded, bulging termination of the toe pad.

 

 

 

Jesse's tiny trapped head fluttered, shaking violently. Her screams were squealing high-pitched bursts as her face encountered the buttery soft and pale skin beneath the toenail. A very cheese-like stickiness was smeared across her cheeks and mouth as her body shuddered. Jesse's tiny arms flailed, at first trying to shield her face, but then pushing futilely against the fetid crevice. Her slender arms became trapped, gripped between the steaming, sticky flesh and the flint-hard overhang. All she could now smell was this woman's fermented, slightly soured toe unctions. Her shins and feet were still in the cool air, peeking from beneath the tons of dense toe flesh and they twitched. She vomited from the immense pressure and fear as she trembled. Jesse felt the flesh mold to her body and then, as she heard pops and creaks from her bones, she began to fade away.

 

 

 

The pressure suddenly seemed gone from her tiny torso and legs. Jesse had the distinct impression as she slipped into unconsciousness that her tiny body was dangling in the cool air. As her eyes fluttered, Jesse could feel her own vomit run down her stomach and course down her legs. She hung, twisting like a corpse caught upon a gallows rope. The blonde woman had lifted her beautiful big toe and Jesse's head, shoulders and arms remained wedged beneath the healthy, longish toenail. Darkness swept her away as an earsplitting chuckle rolled all around her.

 

With a jolt Jesse was awake. She tried to thrash, to move at all, but she could not. Jesse was floating over a pile of clothes. Those were her clothes! That was where she had been! But? Jesse realized that her entire body was clamped painfully in between things… Those enormous, beautiful toes. Only her face was free, the savagely ridged flesh held all of her up to her red and itching ears. She couldn't even wiggle a finger.

 

Sliding in underneath of her was the other shapely foot. Her clothes… That woman… That was… That was Mike's mother! She was… Jesse was tiny! There was no other explanation.

 

"Please! Please don't hurt me! I'll do anything… anything you want, just, please…"

 

She hovered just above the enormous red toenail of the other big toe. The toe was so immense as to not look real. The ruse was heightened by how perfectly well kept the digit was. It looked fake, like some prop sculpture from a movie set. Her captors parted slowly and Jesse squealed as she slid out from the huge, slowly wriggling pillars composed of dense flesh. Her skin was scrubbed and reddened by the friction of the ridges as she fell. The bulging tip of the second toe caught her hips as she rapidly plummeted and knocked her into a tumble. Jesse landed painfully on her side across the cool red surface. She held the side of her head and curled into a ball.

 

Jesse shut her eyes for a moment and whispered to herself, "What did you do to me? What did you do to me? What did you-"

 

The air around Jesse moved and she instantly opened her eyes. The foot that had dropped her here still floated above her, the colossal toes that hung just above her flexed menacingly. The monstrous big toe lowered and Jesse was gently smashed into the toenail. She was rolled slightly beneath the immense bulk of it and her limbs were forced out their folded positions. She was pressed face first into the red lacquer painfully. The frightening ridged flesh covered her completely, molding over her tiny, tormented and compressed body. Jesse was crying, her snot and saliva mixed and was shared between her own face and the thick lacquer's surface as the dense, gigantic toe flesh dominated her.

 

"Oh, please! Please don't hurt me! I didn't do anything to-"

 

Jesse began screaming as the immense big toe dragged her backwards, her soft skin squealed with compressed friction against the long, arched toenail beneath her. She was suddenly stopped against an impediment. Her tiny form was driven into a crescent shape, her face smashed against tight, unyielding flesh. The skyward big toe left, arching upwards into the air. Jesse lay pressed in against the big toe's well-hydrated cuticle like a piece of discarded trash, or some newly in-vogue ornament.

 

Jesse was bawling as the lovely toe beneath her arched upwards slowly like a basking crocodile's mouth. She was so tiny, insect-sized, a discarded and vulnerable toy laying draped across Mike's mother's stupendous big toe. Jesse hazarded a look upwards and regretted it immediately. The enormous golden-wreathed face was peering down at her between huge knees directly overhead. The beautiful colossus was smiling happily and began to chuckle, the enormous waves of it Jesse could feel on her naked skin.

 

"Please! You've got to change me back! Please! I don't want to die like this! Talk to me! Why won't you-"

 

The nightmarish and shapely giant foot hanging above her flexed and the fleshy, pillar-like toes rubbed together with an enormous rasping sound. The titaness pouted regally as the big toe touched down onto the great expanse of massively veined instep which sloped upwards towards the house-sized ankle. Jesse watched in horror as the enormous big toe softly stroked the tanned skin in front of her. The beautiful digit would press down, bulging plumply before slowly sweeping backwards. Enormous veins, easily the diameter of Jesse's hips were flattened momentarily by the passing of the caressing toe. It was a simple show of force. Jesse stared, horrified at it's colossal size. With a slow and graceful movement just like these petite and loving strokes the tiny woman could be crushed to a paste without any effort at all. Above her the beautiful blonde looked on with a cheerful, slightly hungry look almost of anticipation.

 

The incredible big toe arched forwards, levering upwards over tiny Jesse.

 

"No! No, please don't! Don't you understand? I don't want to die!"

 

It grew dark underneath the toe as it lowered. Jesse babbled and sobbed as the ridged flesh touched her, pressing and effortlessly folding her into the immense toenail she knelt upon. It held her there for a moment before coming away. The bulging pad was all that she could see, hovering directly above her, as if waiting. Jesse gathered herself up onto all fours and blinking back the tears she kissed the swell of well-kept cuticle. She threw back her head and screamed.

 

"Is this what you want!!? Is this what you want? You got to change… You have to…"

 

The big toe flew upwards, no longer threatening her but the well-kept foot still hovered there above her, the big toe still poised to intervene at a moments notice.

 

Jesse peppered the flesh with kisses again. Her actions were answered with a thunderous noise. At first she thought it was words, but then she realized that it had been a coo or a moan, the sound of easy, languid delight. She looked upwards and beyond the frightening toes the blonde head hovered, like an immense mirage.

 

"Please…"

 

The enormous digit came down next to her, hanging pendulous and vertical like a strange over-sized wrecking ball. The immeasurable goddess smiled and pouted before blowing a rapid series of puckered kisses. The long toenail nudged Jesse gently and she cried out.

 

"Please don't crush me! I don't want to die! Do anything… I'll do…"

 

The beautiful big toe nudged her again, prompting her. Jesse bent and kissed the cuticle again and the sticky toe pad lightly pressed down onto all of her, immobilizing every piece of her tiny form. Her tiny head and shoulders were embedded into the smooth, tight flesh of the cuticle. Jesse tightly shut her eyes and tried to remain perfectly still, as if she were trying to calm the huge digit, like some enormous wild beast. She had never known something so big and so incredibly strong to move so delicately. By all rights she should be red paste smeared across the bottom of Mike's beautiful mother's big toe. She was overheated by the digit from above and her naked body was punished as it was smashed across the discrepant materials of cuticle and toenail. The digit retreated finally. Jesse ran her tiny hands over the curb-like ending of the flesh, very eager to placate this wholly intimidating being.

 

"See? I'm being so nice to you. So nice to you… You need me! You need me to do this! That's why… That's why I'm going to live… Aren't I? Please, talk to me! Why won't you talk to me?"

 

Jesse slowly crawled across the wide base of the convex toenail, petting the cuticle with her tiny, sweaty hands and kissing it. She rapidly blinked the deluge of tears out of her eyes. Jesse had nothing to work with other than her hands and tiny mouth, she was woefully under equipped to placate such a mighty being. Occasionally she would glance upwards, the other colossal big toe continued to hover over her, like some fat, monitoring ranch-hand. Beyond the huge, fleshy oppressor the giantess was smirking, cruel and relaxed amusement dripped like venom from the pretty face.

 

Distant and amused blue eyes watched as Jesse worked desperately to prove her tiny worth. The miniature girl was bawling, her stomach a tight knot, blind from the endless tears. Jesse did her best to worship the enormous toe. She was going to be okay, she had to be. She would live.

 

 

 

"You have to… You have to keep me safe! I'm so tiny! I'm so tiny… compared to you! You have to help me! I just want to be big! I just want to be big again, I just want to be big again, please! No! You don't have to do that! Please stop… Please stop touching me! I don't want you to touch me with your toes! Please don't squish me… Please don't…"

 

The pendulous big toe returned several times to torture her, smashing her upper body and tiny face into the cuticle as she desperately worked. Jesse didn't struggle, she was too frightened to consider what such an action might deserve. Her mouth was filled with the taste of the goddesses sweat. She paused and licked the back of her own arm, seeking to slake away the horrible film from her tongue. There was a new smell in the air, Jesse barely caught it as it drifted down to her. Metallic, musky, warm. She glanced upwards with a dread-filled curiosity and the sight chilled her blood. The gigantic blonde's vivid eyes were locked on to her. Lovely long red-nailed fingers were draped in the deep, distant chasm between the knees, the middle fingertip bulged as it pressed into the black fabric of the tights. It was slowly, softly stroking the swollen, hidden clitoris. A clitoris far larger than Jesse.

 

Jesse began to scream, a long, horrified wail. The beautiful woman's face lit up in a delighted smile and that spurred Jesse's scream to an even wilder pitch. The big toe that Jesse knelt upon arched slowly upwards and the colossal fingertip pressed more forcefully against the gigantic blonde's massive sex. Jesse was pitched forward past the curb-like cuticle onto the dense flesh that formed a mound where the vast bones of the big toe's knuckle lay buried.

 

Perhaps Jesse's outburst ultimately angered her unwanted goddess? The hovering foot dropped and the huge overseeing big toe lowered, hanging in front of her as she sobbed. Jesse pressed the palms of her hands to the relatively cool, smooth surface of the toenail. She looked upwards, past the long expanse of tanned instep and black-wrapped shin to the sunny and cheerful face.

 

"No! No. It's okay! I'll be good! I promise you, I'll be…"

 

Jesse kissed the wide area of red between her hands. The toenail almost seemed to slowly, gently nuzzle into her and Jesse was pushed, tumbling off of the huge toe. She was clawing at the huge bulge as she fell with a squeal. For a moment she was pitched backwards across the long second toe and then she slid between the two digits.

 

"No, no, no! Don't squish me! I told you, I'll be-"

 

The tall ridged walls closed around her and Jesse was bodily captured for a moment. The air was expelled from her as the walls lightly squeezed her. Above her in the distant sky, past the slowly rubbing digit the blue eyes were smiling. The doughy flesh pressed around her and suddenly the pressure increased as the digits scrunched like walls of iron. The beautiful, car-sized fingertip bulged as it buried itself firmly into the crotch's curved edifice as the distant face cooed deafeningly. The air was violently expelled from Jesse's tiny lungs and she saw stars. Then, her colossal captors relented and parted.

 

Jesse was sideways, adhered to the vast second toe. All of the skin on the back side of her body was strangely tight as it fought to sustain her hanging weight. Jesse broke down, weakly struggling to free her tiny limbs as she blinked away the endless tears. A thunderous chuckle split the air. Jesse roared in frustrated hopelessness as the long, perfect digits slowly flexed, whipping her tiny, freed head back and forth. Jesse was in hell.

 

The enormous, muscular bulk of the big toe in front of her raised upwards, casting a shadow across her as she wailed. A leathery rasping noise accompanied the sudden invasion of the ridged wall of impossibly large toe pad from above. Jesse was bulldozed from the tacky skin, swiped away by the big toe like a bit of trash. She was momentarily smashed down into a tiny cigar-shape against the carpet and caught in a hellishly tight crevice between the two tightly pressed digits.

 

The frightening toes parted and Jesse lay sobbing between the relaxed shapely giants, a tiny, naked doll with over-flushed red skin. She sobbed for almost a minute before the toes began moving. As Jesse looked up, she was confronted by the tip of the monitoring big toe's nail.

 

"What do you want! What is… what is it… What do.. you.. want from me?"

 

The thick digit slowly plunged downward and forcibly spread the two toes around her wider. The toenail pushed forward underneath of her gently, rolling her out from between the prone toes before leaving. Mike's mother was peering down from between her shins. Jesse gawked upwards in fearful trepidation, the enormous well-kept fingers were relaxed and splayed across the tops of the huge knees. They matched the demonic toes. Jesse shuddered, she had already been so incredibly, grotesquely intimate with this all-powerful being's feet. No, not even her beautiful feet. Jesse was too tiny to have experienced that much of this cruel goddess in such a short time. Jesse had only experienced her potently dominant toes. Such little pieces of a person. Such an embarrassing afterthought of anatomy for most people. Not for this woman, though. Mike's mother was apparently quite proud of her smallest details. Jesse remembered Mike cajoling her to paint and care for her own nails. Remembered him sucking on her own toes. She must be why. It was familiar to him from day to day and had become an expected appetizer in the bedroom as well?

 

There the immense beauty was, rising upwards like a seated goddess upon a throne, one beautiful, monstrous foot pointed downwards threateningly at poor Jesse. Mike's mother, what was her name? Jesse wanted to struggle to remember, but there were things above her which pinned her in terror to the carpet. The skyscraper-sized woman's face Jesse could not look at. It was too much for her psyche to handle. This woman had complete control of her body and life. Jesse couldn't cope with staring into that face at all. She didn't want to see what was coming next. She didn't want to know how easy it really was for this gigantic being to terrify her.

 

What was almost as bad was that there were gargantuan hands up there. Jesse wanted to crawl within herself someplace deep and simply shut down. Those hands and that face might be a promise. She would either be crushed here beneath these meticulously tended toes or she would eventually be captured in one of those hands. Be in front of that face with no escape possible from the obviously monstrous and evil mind that lay behind it. The impossibly large woman found torturing tiny Jesse with her beautiful toes to be sexually stimulating. That was simply a black abyss. All was completely, irreversibly bleak.

 

The foot hovered there for just a moment as all of this went through Jesse's mind, the big toe of it completely dwarfing Jesse as it hung in the air in front of her. There was a tiny, short streak, a glistening path of moisture which had its start underneath the frightening toenail's overhang. That was Jesse's vomit. That was how tiny she was. The toe curled and lowered, the elegant toenail came on and touched her side and she sobbed as she trembled. Jesse was gently rolled across the floor by it's outward flexing.

 

Jesse came to a stop laying face down, her shoulder blades quaked as she fought to stop crying. Dust showered her as the foot's broad rounded heel lowered to the carpet some distance away from her. For only half a second the high-arched sole of the foot towered upwards, some sixty feet tall. It was the height of a building, balanced on the vast, rounded heel. The toes flexed as the foot rocked forward, gracefully coming to earth. The four enormous toes touched down, sending shock waves through the floor beneath the tiny woman. Jesse looked up and realized they were directly to her side. Then the big toe itself began to lower over Jesse. She scrambled up and threw herself out from beneath of it. The immense bulk of it pressed into the carpet where she had just been, creating a vast cratered dimple in the padding beneath the carpet. A tremendous laugh ripped through the air as the mighty big toe bulged outwards, pressing heavily down against the carpet.

 

Jesse craned her head back, peering up at the enormous woman. Upwards, past the building-sized shins, past the huge perfect fingers which rested in a relaxed clump like some mythic giant bird's nest hovered the beautiful face. The mighty titaness smirked cruelly in an unstoppable confidence and one beautiful hand rose off the knee to brush back long platinum hair behind an ear. The look on her distant pretty face changed and she narrowed her eyes in a squint of concentration.

 

"Please, leave me alone! Just go away! Why won't you just go away!"

 

The enormous big toe of the closest foot arched upwards and the foot shifted, pivoting in front of Jesse, much like watching an eighteen wheeler slide on ice right in front of her. She found herself once again underneath the full, bulging pad of the mighty digit. She squealed as the enormous digit lowered again. She managed to evade it with an exhausted stumble. A throaty giggle erupted as the cushiony pad of the toe stroked the carpet. The violent and harsh sound of synthetic carpet fibers being compressed beneath tons of unyielding flesh washed over the tiny scrambling woman.

 

As Jesse ran from the foot she knew there was no chance of escape. She was bulldozed from behind and thrown to her face again. As she picked herself up she was nudged softly by a thick digit. In the sky overhead, the beautiful giantess was leaning forward, each of her huge hands braced a leg from underneath. Both of the impossibly long legs were up off of the carpet. Both huge shapely feet were in motion, the toes wiggled and flexed as they slowly flew towards her tiny form.

 

There was a perverse delicateness to how Mike's mother used her feet. It was clear to Jesse that the impossibly prodigious and ominously silent woman wanted to touch her, play with her without doing physical harm. Each of the big toes gracefully hunted her as the beautiful face smiled with a playful mischievousness. Jesse belonged this woman now. Jesse was her toy now. Just something to torment and dominate with her pretty toes.

 

Jesse was herded first by one graceful big toe, then the other one took it's place in slowly chasing her. She was gently touched by them, though because of their size it was more like slow collisions. It was like being touched and prodded by the egg-shaped mixing-bins of cement trucks. The beautiful digits directly filled the tiny naked body with terror, each delicate touch scorched the miniature nervous system. Tiny, shrill screams filled the air as the tiny body was eclipsed and overwhelmed again and again. Jesse should be dead, but the colossus refused to crush her into a paste.

 

Jesse ran to and fro across the squashed and chaotic mass of her own clothing. Time and time again she was overtaken by one of her enormous assailants. She would be crumpled or thrown by the great, unstoppable bulk. Then the enormous toe would wait on her to gain her feet once again, or if she was particularly unlucky it would daintily stroke her tiny, floundering body. If Jesse tried to fight back she would be caught in the space between her tormentor's dexterous grasping toes. The cruel entity would squeeze the tiny body with a gentle scrunch before dropping her into a protesting pile.

 

A deep giggling filled the air and Jesse was flicked from behind, the glassy hardness of an enormous toenail bruised her back. As she squealed her tiny fragile body was compressed down into the fabric of her own clothing by the great merciless hulk of a triumphant toe. She shrieked as her ears were filled with the sound of her own bones being pushed to their limits by the gigantic flesh. It lasted for just a moment and then the toes of that foot spread and settled around her, framing her between their frightening walls.

 

Something huge flew through the air overhead. It was the blonde goddesses other foot. The mighty heel touched down first with a tremor before the rest of the foot followed. It had landed just beyond the toes Jesse was hemmed in by. The foot pivoted with a horrible noise against the carpet. It's big toe stopped, a fleshy obstacle jammed against the tips of the two toes that she found herself trapped between. Jesse had been captured.

 

Jesse surveyed all of this with a profound and surrendering horror. She managed to make it up on to her feet and wiped her own spit and the awful salty funk from her face. She turned towards the gargantuan woman's towering shins and dropped loosely to her knees.

 

"Please don't kill me. Please, please don't kill me! I don't want to die! Don't you understand? I don't want to die!"

 

The distant face was enigmatic, the smirk upon it seemed frozen. The eyes, however, followed Jesse as she made her way to the wall of soft skin in front of her, the bridge between the two toes, their webbing.

 

Jesse shivered as she approached the hot, sticky flesh there. Her head hung low and she sheepishly pressed her tiny naked body against the giantess.

 

"You don't have to. Please, just let me. You can let me! Please don't crush me! I'm a good girl, I swear to you! I'm a good girl!"

 

Jesse pressed in more snugly against the strangely soft skin. She closed tight her eyes and balled up her fists as her lips gently kissed the nearly featureless example of her newly found frailty.

 

"I'll be a good girl for you. I'll be your good girl. You don't have to, because I'm a good girl."

 

The air around her churned. Jesse whimpered and pressed herself as tightly against Mike's mother as she could. She could hear the enormous foot behind her move away across the carpet, driving vibrations up into her legs. Something touched her back.

 

Jesse slowly turned and opened her eyes. It was a fingertip, as wide as the fleshy space she trembled within. It hung down vertically between the two toes. She stared, wide-eyed at the enormous finger print as she began to more violently shake.

 

"I'm a good girl!" Jesse said, addressing the fingertip with a nod of her head.

 

The enormous pillar of flesh slowly drove her backwards and she was gently crushed against the soft webbing between the huge toes. The body-sized fingerprint was driven into the front of her, but it was much more fine than that which adorned the toes. She quaked as the air was pushed from her tiny lungs. The five foot diameter fingertip felt her, slowly raking upwards across her pitiful body, driving her up with it so her feet no longer touched the carpet. Jesse peed herself from the pressure, spraying her hot urine across a tiny area of the digit. The fingertip retreated, flying upwards and Jesse sucked in sweet air. She was stuck to the webbing between the toes, her tiny legs dangled ineffectually. There was thunderous laughter from overhead and the narrow corridor flanked by the bulging walls of toe flesh shook as the huge toes flexed, perhaps in mirth.

 

Peering upwards, the tiny woman witnessed the cruel goddess rubbing the index finger against an enormous thumb in front of her vast, smiling face. Then her skyscraper-sized tormentor's face lowered closer, hovering just above one towering knee. With a flash of crimson the fingers folded, all of them except the index finger. The hand flew downwards lazily as the giantess smirked and the fingertip reinserted itself back between the long toes. Jesse began to hyperventilate as the fingertip grazed over her lightly, then it dropped again in front of her and pressed her forcefully into the hot flesh.

 

Jesse was slowly savaged by the finger. It pet her, repeatedly driving her tiny form into the firm flesh behind her. She was thrown back and forth, and then she was tugged off of the fleshy wall after an especially crushing press of the giant digit. Jesse sobbed, her tiny naked form was adhered face down to the colossal and elegant fingertip. The ridged flesh beneath her softened as the finger straightened. The tiny woman shook in fear, her absolute helplessness was difficult to bear. Jesse squealed as delighted laughter erupted across the sky. She knew she was rising upwards, glued helplessly by impossibly thick sweat and her own urine to the enormous well-kept digit. Jesse clamped shut her eyes and held perfectly still, just above her now was the impossible face of the blonde goddess. Hot wind, exhaled breath whistled around her in gusts. Jesse was being looked over, she could feel the huge blue eyes trace over her insect-sized form. Then she was descending.

 

Jesse dared to open her eyes, she was upside down, still plastered to the enormous fingertip, just above a vast field of shimmering black cloth. Then there was an enormous thumb, it was suddenly there and so close to her. She cried out in horror as the wide and thick edge of the long, red thumbnail raked down the length of the digit she was adhered to. Jesse's tiny naked body was undercut by it and she stuck momentarily to the very end of the enormous thumbnail before plummeting from it to the smooth black field.

 

Jesse landed belly first and immediately splayed out her tiny limbs against the black slope. Her naked skin was filled with a great and humid heat, radiating from the subtle bulge in the strange terrain she lay centered upon. She knew exactly where she was, the vast midriff and distant enormous breasts curved up away from her like some badlands canyon wall. Jesse had been deposited onto the monstrous blonde's nearly endless body. No, it was much worse than that. Jesse's horribly traumatized mind was trying to protect her, trying to sanitize and obfuscate a plain truth. Jesse has been dropped squarely onto the skyscraper sized woman's crotch.

 

 

 

The beautiful face was much closer now and the enormous being was grinning delightedly. Jesse realized she was hyperventilating as she gawked wide-eyed at the impossible vista dominating the sky. She choked on her own saliva and coughed painfully. She was making pitiful mewing noises from deep in her throat, and the sound of her own panic caused her to lose even more composure. A smell filled the air all around her, that new smell. Jesse could almost taste it.

 

The giantess moved in the sky above her, and Jesse watched as one enormous arm propelled a soft-looking hand to settle palm-down onto the outside of one of the thighs. That hand's beautiful thumb came to rest in the near distance, level with her on the crest of the black hill. Jesse didn't know exactly why, but she fixated on the massive thumb as it came to rest. The tiny woman began bawling and shaking her head as she stared at the enormous digit. It had a ponderous girth that reminded her of some nondescript material containment tank that one might find attached to the side of a factory. She could be bludgeoned and stroked by it or effortlessly crushed. It was much like one of the woman's frightening and dominant big toes, just a slightly smaller, almost carbon copy.

 

 

 

If Jesse didn't die soon then it was only a matter of time before she would end up trapped underneath of that giant digit. The terrible, beautiful monster that she lay upon like a discarded trinket would surely delight in trapping her newly made toy underneath one of her mammoth thumbs. Jesse knew her tormentor would not be able to resist this simple show of force. The classic and age-old meme which illustrated tyrannical control, domination.

 

Jesse watched as the pretty face lit up with a smile. Her barely discernible distress delighted the huge being. The skyscraper sized woman realized instantly what was preoccupying her tiny toy. A pleased intake of breath made Jesse flinch. The vast face smirked haughtily as the huge thumb reared upwards. Jesse froze, wide-eyed as the thick, intimidating digit pivoted in the air and lowered suddenly to the curved hillside of immeasurable thigh, pantomiming the capture of a tiny struggling body. As it stroked the black fabric all Jesse could think about were tiny, helpless people of her stature trapped in it's shadow. In her mind's eye they were slowly and affectionately smashed beneath the slowly reddening hulk of merciless flesh, engulfed and casually stroked by the unstoppable, uniquely feminine tonnage into grisly, jellylike puddles of gore.

 

 

Jesse was snapped out of her self-inflicted horror as a deep, thrumming coo shook the air. Suddenly, the other hand appeared from beyond the edge of the colossal body. Frightening fingers lowered downwards over her, the index fingertip came on and pressed down directly in front of Jesse. The thick digit bulged as it sunk into the soft and hidden flesh. Jesse shrieked as she tumbled down the newly-formed divot surrounding the giant finger. Her pitiful body crashed into the immovable flesh of the digit. Jesse became momentarily trapped in the tight crevice between the fingertip and the sloped side of the compressed, hot mound of monstrous femininity. The tiny thing struggled as the digit rocked back and forth, inadvertently grinding her delicate skin into the enormous weave of the tights. An earsplitting moan tore through the air all around her, drowning out her pathetic cries. Then, Jesse detected another tiny sound punctuating the spaces in between the sounds of protesting friction emanating from beneath the gargantuan fingertip. It was Steve, weakly screaming in horror and protest somewhere far below her.

 

The enormous fingertip lifted and Jesse tumbled as the sweltering flesh beneath her sprang back. Above Jesse the lovely face had came much closer. The fingertip gently nudged the tiny reddened body, gently rolling it towards the center of the subtle bulge.

 

"Stop it! Oh God... I don't want to- You've got to change me back! You have to change us back! Oh God, Steve! Please! Steve!!?" There was no answer to Jesse's frantic call. Where was Steve? Had the cruel woman somehow shrank him as well? There could be no other explanation.

 

The gorgeous blonde's vast face pouted theatrically before lighting up with a stunning, sunny smile. The tip of the long red nail nuzzled against her again and Jesse's tiny crying face was squarely struck. She pitched backwards, clutching her face with her hands as she curled into a ball. A self-satisfied and throaty sound of thunder split the air.

 

 

 

The enormous index fingertip played with Jesse lazily, tumbling the tiny, tightly folded naked girl across the rough, black weave of elastic athletic fabric. The force exerted on her tiny body by the collisions of the dense, ridged flesh was too much and Jesse was ripped out of her tightly curled ball. She rolled to a stop and fought to breathe. The enormous thumb came in parallel to the hovering the index finger. The immeasurably gigantic woman intended to pick her up, "Oh God, no! Please! I don't want you to touch me anymore! Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" As the monstrous fingertips reached for her, Jesse whimpered, folding back up into a ball as she shielded her head with her arms.

 

 

 

The snugly curled pill-sized young woman was captured delicately in the sweltering flesh's leathery pinch. She caught a glimpse of the smiling face before the massive, ridged pads closed around her. Jesse immediately felt like a tiny hip had dislocated. She could not even scream. The vertebrae in her neck seemed pushed to their limits as her chin was forced down into her own sternum. Then the sickening gut-punch of acceleration, a muted roar of wind. There was a wide cleft in the bulging flesh beyond which the undersides of the two long fingernails could be seen. Through this gap the outside world rushed by.

 

 

 

Beyond the gap were bits of the vast face, a sampling, a chaotic tour of the individual components which made up the identity of Jesse's cruel captor. The bottom of the chin, a tanned wall studded with pores and tiny white hairs. Pink, unadorned and smiling lips, the vast underside of the pretty button nose. Then an enormous blue eye slid into view, it floated just beyond the pinched fingertips. Long eyelashes framed the exploring, curious eye which peered down into the tiny crack of flesh. Jesse was drooling, her mouth levered open and held in place against her own trapped forearm. This was what it was like to be an insect. This was what it was like to be Mike's beautiful mother's very own personal bug.

 

 

 

For just a moment the lovely eye silently mocked her insignificant size. Then Jesse's stomach rolled sickeningly as the world sped by at a blur downward. Suddenly the beautiful, predatory fingertips parted. Jesse fell limply into a heap. It was an oppressively hot surface. Wet? She was coughing, blind with pain. The tremors spawned by her coughing fit forced her hip back in place with an ugly, internally audible sound. There was a ferociously strong taste in Jesse's mouth, the same exact rank signature assaulted her nose. Jesse gagged and tried to roll away from the overpowering, musky scent.

 

 

 

Jesse managed to open one eye. She moaned as her other eye refused to budge. A thick, gluey substance coated that side of her head. Her attempts to wipe it off of her eye spread more of the stuff onto her face from her own hand. The tiny girl rolled over onto her hands and knees. Her neck was weak, painful and already slightly swollen. Jesse's face landed squarely into hot, molasses-thick liquid. Horror.

 

 

 

The tiny woman sputtered and cried out. She was spurred into desperate movement, rolling again and trying to elicit a crouch from her battered body. She wiped her face as she retched, "what did you do to me! Oh God! Arrgh."

 

 

 

Jesse finally managed to open both eyes and as she inhaled to scream from the sight which greeted her, she coughed, choking on a bit of her own gush of vomit. Directly above the tiny woman was one of the mighty, feminine thumbs acting as a stout ceiling beam, holding back the stretched black fabric which composed the vaulted roof.

 

 

 

"No! Oh God, no! Please, Mrs. Johns... Mrs. Johnson… Please… L... Linda! Linda! I'm a good girl, Linda! Please… Just play with me with your… I'll worship your nice... your beautiful toes! I'll be a toy for your beautiful… I'll be a good girl for you... For your… Please, just put me back! Oh God! Put me back on the floor! I don't want to… NOOO!!!"

 

 

 

The blonde beauty raised her eyebrows excitedly as she smiled. The vast and distant face beamed down the great distance of the foreshortened landscape of her own tremendous body at poor tormented Jesse. An index finger floated into the triangular opening, beneath the bracing thumb. The tiny struggling girl was caressed beneath it, forced into the gleaming and thick moisture which impregnated the front of the expensive white silk panties. The tiny, naked body struggled but it was useless, Jesse was caught fast in the sweltering lubrication of the giant blonde's arousal. She was suffocating, drowning on a substance that for all the world seemed like stinking monster movie slime. The colossal fingertip came away from the press with the miniature being plastered to it. The titaness purred as the bracing thumb intervened, levering upwards the white silk sheath and incorporating it as another layer of vaulted ceiling it held in check.

 

 

 

Jesse was face down, her tiny backside glued to the pad of the elegant index finger as the other hand's thumb plunged, hooking beneath the sweaty expanse of white silk. She retched, expelling a mouthful of the hot, rank liquid which then clung as a quivering lump to her chin and lower lip for a moment before falling away. The vast, unreal pussy was revealed and Jesse began to cry, trying to turn her head away from the sight of it unsuccessfully. Immediately she was assaulted by even ranker, muskier, humid air rising off the dreadful gardened slope. The curly blonde hair glistened with sweat and arousal, barely obscuring the great, glossy labia.

 

 

 

Jesse flailed, screaming shrilly as the thumb of the hand she lay plastered to swept her free of it's companion fingertip. She was blinded by the nightmarish funk which coated her thickly as her tiny form was forcibly collapsed into a tangled heap by the digit's onslaught. Jesse was left plastered like a tiny bit of trash on the side of the well-sculpted thumbnail. She was transported up and in front of the gargantuan, rosy cheeked face.

 

 

 

Linda Johnson's impressive visage leered, filling one side of the sky as Jesse fought to clean her face. The tiny woman stared in horror at the immensity of the beautiful face floating seemingly so close yet quite far away. It was too much for Jesse and she was shuddering violently as deep sobs wracked her quaking shoulders. She tried to hide from the overwhelming face and the cruel, amused eyes. She pressed her tiny form into the trough formed where the red lacquered nail was framed in by the plump flesh.

 

 

 

The beautiful mouth smirked before erupting with mirth filled thunder. Jesse couldn't hide, it was desperate stupidity, instinct. She was bawling as she stared in hopeless horror at the unfathomable enormity. The elegant thumb leveled itself in the air in front of the pretty face. The naked, half-blinded woman slowly pulled herself across the mammoth, lubrication drenched thumbnail. Jesse raised an arm pleadingly towards the amused blue eyes as the gusts of hot breath hammered down out of the great nostrils, cooling and tightening the musky residue covering her.

 

 

 

"Please... Please! Please, Linda! Help me! Help me get big... I just want to... I'm a person! Linda, I'm a person! I'm not a toy! I'm not your toy! I'm not…"

 

 

 

The skyscraper sized blonde grinned delightedly at the quivering, pink bug stuck hopelessly to her thumbnail. The tip of her tongue touched her top front teeth delicately in amused arousal, in anticipation.

 

 

 

"Please, you've got to..."

 

 

 

The thumb arched upwards slowly as the titaness watched with fascination. The tiny girl cried out and pressed her head into the red polished surface, throwing her tiny arms wide to re-adhere them to the convex shell. With a triumphant and easy smirk the trinket-sized young woman was gently deposited on the bulging, pink centerpiece of the drenched garden. The thumbnail pressed her into the slick monument before sliding away across her tiny body, leaving her ensconced within the tangle of baby soft blonde hairs.

 

 

 

The tiny young woman went berserk, thrashing and screeching, alternatively plastered and then breaking free to slide across the silky smooth flesh of the mammoth clitoris. A thunderous moan filled the air as a quake shook the enormous body beneath her. Jesse's frantic attempts to extricate herself caused her tiny lower body to slide beneath the slick clitoral hood. She gurgled in a shrill scream as she became captured there, pinned helplessly in the crevice.

 

 

 

Above her the blonde behemoth reacted to the faint scream, fighting against her own arousal long enough to get a good look at her pitiful bug-sized pet. The vaulted roof composed of white silk groaned as it was folded down and held in place beneath the frightening thumb. The end of the enormous thumb jutted over the glistening field of brassy, tangled hair like the prow of some lifeboat. Jesse's tiny neck trembled in a panic palsy as the massive tip of feminine thumb came to rest not far from where she was trapped. She waited for a crushing assault which never came.

 

 

 

A hand skimmed over the enormous stomach and sunk down into the swishing, crunching blond hair. The titanic fingers were widely spread and the monstrous, steamy anatomy was hemmed in between the lengths of two of the fingers. The slick, hot horror which mired Jesse compressed and rose from the pressure of the twenty-some foot long digits. Jesse flopped face-first into the throbbing, slimy flesh as her tiny legs were squeezed mercilessly in the grip of the pink, engorged fold. Jesse came up screaming, pounds of gluey, hot fluid formed gigantic strands in protest as she peeled away her tiny face. The distant, rosy cheeked countenance was smiling, the vivid blue eyes locked onto her. The huge features were filled with an equal mixture of pity and amusement. The elegant fingers lifted away and the newly released soft, sizzling flesh plunged. Jesse's little face was slammed again into the pink flesh of the monumental clitoris. The tiny girl cried out in revulsion and began to gag on a mouthful of the horrible byproduct of the skyscraper-sized woman's arousal.

 

 

 

The gigantic fingertips roamed delicately, pushing away and smoothing back errant pubic hairs from around the tiny woman as Jesse painfully vomited onto the wall of flesh she was trapped against. She was completely sick and quite weak, yet she still tried to free herself. Jesse desperately lunged for the fingertips when they came close to her, hoping that her sheer tininess and stickiness might anchor her to them enough for a smooth extrication. Almost all of the fingers folded into the massive hand, crouched like some outcropping of stone where the pubic hair ended and the long, flat belly began. The thumb and forefinger were left and the hand took to the air, the huge digits angling themselves as their long red nails skimmed across the top of the crop of pubic hair.

 

 

 

The mighty thumb and index fingertip carefully lowered over her. The titaness was leaning forward, hunched down low and squinting. Jesse's tiny head and one arm were trapped momentarily between the thick tips of the crimson nails but the enormous blonde realized her mistake before Jesse was fatally crushed. The tiny, struggling woman's middle was captured by the red nail tips which slid down past her upper body and pressed in lightly across her belly and back. Her pitiful head and shoulders were caught as the beautiful digits closed, compressed in the mighty vice of the rough fingertips.

 

 

 

Jesse was pulled up out of the awful crevice and the titaness spread her digits to let go of her. She was once again plastered to a slime coated fingertip. The tiny girl was brutally scraped off of the finger onto the swollen, monstrous button. The beautiful goddess was smiling with a casual ease as her monstrous index finger hovered over Jesse authoritatively. The pretty digit gently countered each of her panicked, desperate attempts at escape, interposing itself between the tiny woman and the golden, moistened pubic hairs. Jesse plastered herself to the intervening fingernail but the goddess merely giggled at the sight of her there before dislodging the frail bug girl against her giant clitoris. The tiny woman tired quickly and within a few moments she was cemented like a fragment of cooked pasta to the throbbing, glistening edifice. Jesse lay trapped in a shock induced stupor, her eyes wide and mouth panting spasmodically.

 

 

 

The distant face smiled between her intakes of charged, aroused breaths. Her enormous fingernail tenderly, almost remorsefully touched Jesse before the huge digit stroked across her, feeling the tiny quivering body. Jesse was softly crushed beneath the ridged pad and slowly ground against the throbbing sex before it retreated.

 

 

 

The huge hand swept down past Jesse. The length of it rolled past her overhead like a slowly moving subway train and revealed it's inner wrist. The massive fingers plunged between the captured fabric and the pubic hair covered slope as the wrist yawed back and forth. Massive tendons showed hints of themselves as alternate long, thin valleys and bulging crop furrows in the expanse of soft skin as the terrible digits were worked at some hidden task.

 

 

 

Jesse instantly knew the sound, even though it was only that, only some garbled, frantic vocalization. The pitch, the flavor and texture of that gravelly cry. She knew that voice as well as she knew her own and her stomach was immediately painful in it's mournful tightening. Jesse had never heard Steve in such a terrible, mortal panic. She wanted to weep but nothing came forth as the grotesque bundle of huge muscles she lay trapped against grew hotter as the entire massive button lifted. Jesse's bonds of organic, dreadfully feminine glue grew tighter as the surface she lay against swelled in circumference.

 

 

 

The awe-inspiring thumb swung wide over her and fattened as it dove, the massive, gently concave underside of the thumbnail barely missed poor tiny Jesse. The thick digit plowed through the field of slime tainted hairs, hooking itself beneath the fabric it held back before pulling it away. The massive wrist flew backwards and disappeared, being replaced by the curved rolls and bulges of the hand's palm. Then the entire hand was free from the sports fabric and panties.

 

 

 

The huge hand rolled over above Jesse and the air it displaced in it's motion drove away the humid awfulness for a few moments. Jesse fought to breathe as the beautiful hand ascended to in front of Mike's beautiful mother Linda's moon-sized face. A thunderous laugh split the air and Jesse's chest hurt. A distant, almost lost scream floated down to the tiny woman. The pretty face was grinning, the blue eyes were locked on to one fingertip that had been lifted slightly higher than the rest of them.

 

 

 

The huge beauty puckered and softly blew across her fingertip as the panicked screams escalated. A moment later the hair just beyond Jesse's huge, throbbing captor rustled as sweet breath swept across the entire tanned slope. Jesse watched in horror as the goddess smiled delightedly and slowly brought her thumb against the fingertip which had enraptured her. The screams were horrible as the massive digit closed the distance. Then silence as the blonde woman touched her fingertips together.

 

 

 

The gigantic beauty looked past her hand down to where tiny Jesse lay trapped. She smiled down on her from the sky overhead as she brought her fingertips to her mouth. She focused on what lay between her digits once again, the very tip of her tongue peeked from between her fascinated mouth's vast lips. She tasted the tiny thing she held, slowly stroking whatever it was against the colossal pink protrusion.

 

 

 

The hand rolled over, fingers pointing down and it was descending. In a moment the distant fingertips were much too large to be sane and filled the space directly overhead. Jesse could see plainly see exactly what she already knew and her mind rejected the scene's undeniable exposition. Jesse shut tight her eyes and whimpered as she trembled.

 

 

 

His screaming filled Jesse's ears, only faltering when it was muffled against Mike's mother's tremendous, ragingly aroused anatomy. His voice broke, thinned and strained into a choking, hoarse whistle. Jesse's tiny slime covered belly was hammered by something coarse and bristly. Her tiny eyes fluttered open as her shuddering breath was forced from her. All she could see were Linda Johnson's fingertips, to close to be much more than fields of glossy red and ridged texture. Steve's face was pressed against her neck as he screamed. That writhing, glistening face was dragged down the length of her as he coughed.

 

 

 

For one moment, almost accidentally their eyes met. His face was incredulous, slackened stupidly before horror filled it.

 

 

 

"Steve?"

 

 

 

"Oh... Oh God no..."

 

 

 

"Help me, Steve. Please? Please help-"

 

 

 

Steve's eyes became huge and they were shining preternaturally.

 

 

 

"Jesse?"

 

 

 

His face twisted grotesquely and he let out a roar before his eyes fluttered, rolling upwards. Then Steve's head hung slack like some dead weight on the end of his neck. The enormous pretty fingertips which gently gripped his tiny form ran that inanimate face across Jesse's tiny body as she bawled, shivering at the touch. The flesh around her was quaking and the air was filled with the sound of vast panting.

 

 

 

Jesse watched in wide-eyed horror as tiny, limp Steve was plunged beneath what the massive thumb held in check. She could hear the gigantic fingers playing with his tiny form, the squelch and ferocious gurgle of the hot fluid being displaced against downy soft pink folds. Everything was shaking, shuddering rhythmically. Jesse began squealing as the thumb reared upwards, releasing it's portion of the waistband and panties. The twisted fabric wall expanded, rolling towards her like a low tidal wave and bunching up the brassy, slick hairs.

 

 

 

The thick, dense pad of the monumental thumb lowered over her. Jesse was claimed by it, trapped beneath it's unstoppable weight. It felt her, running over her tiny outline carefully before it dominated her, stroking against her helpless body and pressing her forcefully into the grievously huge sex.

 

 

 

The thumb left her alone suddenly, sweeping away to attend to the stubborn waistband. The other hand withdrew from brutalizing poor Steve. The hand hovered just above her, wet with the horrible, musky fluid. It's monstrous thumb was joined by it's companion index finger and they fell towards Jesse. They gathered her up and her dangling, paralyzed form was stroked across the pink, hardened monster like a little twist of facial tissue dabbing at joyful tears. Her tiny head and arms were cruelly used against the blonde's erogenous enormity. As vast, cruel Linda fought not to cry out the insect-sized woman suddenly went limp, finally surrendering to unconsciousness from the shock of it all.

 

Linda gathered up the tiny doll-girl between her fingertips protectively as she rode the deep orgasm out, fighting the urge to fold her legs tightly into herself and collapse onto the couch. She quenched a deep twitch as tiny Steve's hands sought purchase beyond her steaming and sensitive gateway. She shuddered with satisfaction as she brushed the tiny woman's motionless yet wonderful legs against her lower lip. They felt like the soft bristles of an artist's paintbrush and she drew in a shaky breath as she smiled.

 

 

 

The tiny unconscious college girl was gently wiped off of Linda's fingertips on to the front part of her tongue. She quickly cleaned the stickiness from her, almost coming to a second orgasm as she did so. The tiny thing was gently retrieved and she looked her over as she lay plastered and unmoving across the pad of her well-kept thumb. With a tiny jolt her unfortunate pet was once again awake. Linda smiled and captured her in a pinch, bringing the tiny thing to her spacious, gasping mouth. Tiny, gurgling moans of revulsion reached Linda's delighted ears.

 

"Oh, my precious little bug-girl! Oh my! You are... You are the best present my son has ever given for my birthday. Socks? Cheap jewelry? Workout videos? Sweaters? No, no, no. I should call them stupid, useless things. But they never were that, you see, Brenda-fairy. They all had uses. I appreciated them. But you, why are you for some reason my favorite present of all? I mean, to be honest, you are a stupid, useless thing. But I like that! That is just an invitation to do stupid, useless and senseless things… to you."

 

Linda leaned forward until all that Jesse could see was her delighted mouth. The tiny thing was wailing, beating her open palms against the bulging swell of the enormous thumb tip. The breath was vaguely minty and tiny bubbles of saliva popped occasionally deep beyond the huge perfect teeth with cheerful crackling noises.

 

Linda whispered, "you should have chose my son. But you didn't."

 

Linda lowered the screeching, unintelligible fairy-like girl down to the enormous foot which rested sideways in front of her crotch. She delicately held the tiny struggling form against the long wrinkle at the base of her big toe's pad. Linda relished slowly bending her big toe in a slow and infinitely gentle scrunch. As the crevice at that toe joint deepened Linda softly deposited her tiny sticky body lengthwise within it. A moment later she had let go of the dark-haired girl and watched as she babbled and screeched, clawing futilely as the toe wrinkle deepened. As the little fairy-girl clawed the flesh swelled and bulged over her from both sides of the colossal toe, burying her, hiding her almost completely from view.

 

Linda giggled as the musical little screams from her crotch made it to her ears. Steve did not like his adventure, not one bit. Linda held her foot perfectly still as she retrieved her phone. It was not long now. But the cab was far enough away that Linda could bask in her power for a while longer. Then she would have to make travel arrangements for her fragile, dearly loved but unfortunately belated birthday presents. Linda stroked a huge fingertip across the tiny spray of dark hair which persisted beyond the gently closed crevice of flesh. She smiled and leaned back with a deeply aroused and aching sigh.

 

Linda had to finally remind herself that her new playthings were fragile. She begrudgingly propped her foot onto her thigh, her sole facing her. She slowly straightened her big toe, revealing the tiny naked body which was plastered to the broad base where her meaty toe pad began. As she watched in fascination, her tiny Brenda doll peeled herself away from her flesh with a cry of horror. The little thing wailed mournfully as she took in the vast, almost dune-like furrowed sole stretched out behind her. The girl's tearful eyes reluctantly followed the giant leg to the knee and then turned away quickly. Linda dimpled her face with a slight frown as she realized her captured fairy was intentionally not looking up at her.

 

Linda leaned forward, bring her face lower over her foot. The tiny thing froze, on hands and knees in the center of her upturned big toe, sensing the air above her churn as something immeasurably huge moved through it.

 

"Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?"

 

Linda pressed her fingertips into the middle of her sole as she stared at the tiny thing on her toe. The girl flinched and screams were her reward as she massaged her sole lightly. Linda slid her fingertips towards her toes, the red nail-tips divoting her flesh. The little girl shrieked at the approach of the impossible hand and she scrambled down off of the big toe. She tumbled, pitching forward raggedly as she reached the long pillar of Linda's second toe.

 

"Oh shit!"

 

Linda clenched her toes and managed to catch her tiny sprite. The tiny scream was cut short as the pitiful little thing became trapped between and underneath two long clenched toes. A tiny hand slapped the thick skin, and Linda could feel her struggle.

 

"You're just reckless in every way, aren't you? Well, it's good I came along then. I can look after you, make sure you do things that are in your own best interest."

 

Linda gathered her tiny kicking legs up in a gentle pinch. With a smile, she decided to make it difficult on her. Linda very slowly dragged her upper body out from between her now gently clasping toes. She liked the feathery, delicate sensation of the tiny body sliding across the sensitive skin of her toe crevice. Linda paused for a moment as the girl sobbed heavily. She could feel the quavering, broken breaths shudder through her tiny chest and back. It was delightful and Linda was frozen as she relished it. A babbling, pleading tirade reached her ears as the little girl kicked and scratched.

 

"Temper, temper! My goodness, Brenda-bug! Have some patience with me, please! You've gotten yourself in quite a pickle! Don't you even want to be rescued?"

 

The tiny thing's body tensed between her fingertips. A second later her tantrum started again. Linda smiled and with great care tightened the toes which still held her. Muffled sounds reached her ears as the beautiful girl ceased her outburst, shuddering. Then there was a tiny sensation on the inside of Linda's third toe. The desperate young lady had pressed her face into the sickening, monstrous flesh and bit down as hard as she could.

 

Linda gasped as her eyes grew wide. She giggled furiously and the pretty fingertips which gently held half of the tiny form shook slightly with her mirth. She let go of the tiny legs and slowly spread wide her toes. A single word was screamed repeatedly as Linda watched with fascination, she surmised it could only be 'no!' in response to her movement. She estimated that to the shrunken girl, it was a thirty foot drop from her toes to the couch below. A broad smile crossed the blonde's face as her plaything urgently decided to cling tightly to a long, well pampered toe's trunk.

 

Linda could barely keep from slipping her fingers down into her tights again. She frowned childishly as she realized that she needed to get ready to greet the taxi. She pressed a fingertip into the girl's back, keeping her in place as she shut her toes in a gentle scrunch, immobilizing her tiny limbs in soft, hot crevices. Linda sat in thought, ignoring the tiny cries and she frowned slightly, flaring her nostrils in response to the eventual and repeated fairy-bites. Where would she keep her new-found playthings? The best choice would be to tuck them into her purse, but Linda was worried that all of the objects within might beat and crush them to a pulp should the purse get jostled. Little Steve could not be kept where he was, she knew that he definitely needed a break from his ordeal. Linda chewed on her bottom lip as she gazed at the miniature panting girl.

 

Linda rummaged through the medicine cabinet in the drab, utilitarian bathroom. She smiled as she checked the contents of the red and white paper box. Of course, so typical of college kids, there was only one left. Linda came back into the living room and waved to the exhausted fairy-girl who sat huddled within the overturned shot glass. She lay back on the couch and fished a hand down into her panties, cultivated fingertips softly probing through her blonde valley for the little troublemaker. In a moment he was discovered and with a simple swipe she produced a tiny, glistening Steve. Linda raised him carefully to her face. He was plastered face down to her middle fingertip, and she smiled as she brought him up close to her eyes.

 

“Was it beautiful, Steve, like I told you? Was it everything you hoped it would be? Well, I'm not like those other girls you might have been with, you know, before. I expect you to take care of me, because you're really a gentleman, aren't you? A nice boy, right? Stay with me, Steven, forever. We didn't just do... that. I gave you my heart, Steven. It was so much more than just, well, you know, that.”

 

Linda brought him up to a huge blue eye and stared at him, silently, for a whole minute. She withheld her smile, endeavoring to break him down a little with just her silent presence. The poignant, wonderful juxtaposition. Steve was breathing heavily, he looked tired and as she watched a weak tiny hand wiped dense, cloying liquid from his face. He lay there, on the tip of her finger and stared back, eyes huge, his panting, gaping mouth down turned in a frown of terror. Linda pulled him away from her eye and smiled demurely.

 

"We're going to be so happy together, Steven. Just pure domestic bliss. I'll cook all your meals for you. Just think, every night when you get home from work, after you've eaten your big dinner, I'll fetch your pipe for you. Then you can sit and read the newspaper, and I'll rub your feet as I tell you about my day cleaning our lovely house and chatting with the other housewives in the neighborhood. Maybe we'll even get a little Scottie dog. It will be just like I imagined when I was a little girl playing with my dolls."

 

Linda brought her thumb down over tiny Steve. He never reacted, never broke that empty, horrified gaze as the enormous thumb sealed down against him in a gentle pinch. Linda gently rolled his tiny, limp body between the pads of her fingertips for a moment as she grinned monstrously. She leaned back in the couch and raised her shirt. She positioned Steve into her bellybutton, and smeared him off of her fingertip. She giggled as she peered down at him, daintily nudging and rearranging his slack limbs until he was curled fully within her navel. Linda retrieved the last Band-Aid and peeled off the waxy adhesive shields. She carefully centered the gauzy rectangle over her navel and pressed it home, anchoring the sticky, perforated wings against her skin and safely partitioning Steve from the dangerous, giant outside world.

 

Linda's precious fairy-girl was not as easy. Linda worked off her opal ring and set it down next to the shot glass. Her finger ring had a nice, tall platform of openwork rococo vines out of white gold that the semiprecious stone was captured on top of. Linda lowered herself down next to the coffee table and eyed the tiny woman. She would fit, thankfully. The little Brenda knew what was happening, Linda had glanced at her several times as she had dealt with Steve. She knew that the dark-haired beauty saw and most likely heard everything. The tiny thing was crouching warily, her back against the shot glass at the farthest point from Linda's huge form.

 

Linda tore off a tiny piece of the tissue and folded it up into a tiny pillow. She tamped it in place against the rough, cold stone inside of her ring with a pinky fingernail. Linda brought both her beautiful hands over the shot glass. With one she removed the glass and with the other she pressed the tiny, fleeing girl to the table with a deft index finger. She was screaming and flailing. Linda increased the pressure on her until her struggling stopped. She gently plucked her up and brought the Brenda-fairy to her face.

 

"You're going to do what I say or I will do very naughty things to you, fairy-girl."

 

The tiny thing spit, it landed on Linda's thumbnail. Just what she expected. Linda reached out with her other hand. She brought her thumbnail to the tiny throat. The miniature girl began bawling, begging in her tiny voice for mercy.

 

"I can always get another birthday present. Do you have any brothers or sisters, fairy-girl? I think I'll just pop off your little head and go through your purse. There has to be some way I can get a home address. After all, this is the age of the Internet. Maybe I can catch your whole family at Sunday dinner sometime. Ooh, now that's an idea! I could just lay back on my bed with a teacup full of your tiny, naked family. Are they all as attractive as you? Because, you know, if not, well…"

 

She was weeping heavily, her tiny head thrown back as the long red thumbnail hovered a moment away from her throat. Linda withdrew her thumb and gently laid the girl in her palm. She placed a small square of tissue on the palm next to her.

 

"Get in the center of that. Good girl, now curl up in a tiny little girly-ball. Good girl! Now hold still."

 

Linda wrapped her fairy-girl in the tissue. She brought her ring up to her palm and gently scooted her prize inside of it. Linda slowly worked her ring back onto her finger. When she was done she held her hand up and smiled. She closed her hand into a fist and brought it to her mouth. She whispered, "good girl, Brenda. Now you be quiet in there. We are going for a long ride."

 

As Linda walked through the parking lot towards the pool house she realized that she had somehow been transformed. As she took in the life happening around her she noticed there was the absence of a nearly instinctive mechanism she had always relied upon, as most people do. The subtle, but automatic and perpetual assessment of threat she had always leveled at strangers was now completely gone. Linda idly wondered if this was how those who were exceptionally large, or capable, or even perhaps the outwardly intimidating felt as they passed through the world.

 

The interior of the cab was scuffed on nearly every surface. It smelled like an industrial floor cleaner and it's seat was stiff. As soon as Linda had instructed the driver and strapped in she retrieved her phone. She began streaming a movie, but she did not use her headphones, instead keeping the volume low yet just loud enough to drown out any tiny cries. Linda's own tiny passengers kept her company, she delighted in their tiny movements, little caresses, the most delicate of sensations against her. Linda was not just a terrible force but she was also a place now, her belly button a tiny isolation cell, the skin on the back of her ring finger the warm, darkly golden floor of a tiny cage.

 

It was not complete darkness. As with anything mass-produced and intended to be eventually discarded, the ring box was not carefully executed. There was enough light spilling through the crookedly affixed lid that even while closed Mike could see quite well. It had been almost an entire day now that Mike had been left alone here. He was weak with hunger and dreadfully thirsty. The taste in his mouth was awful. At first it was the strong, disgusting taste of nail polish accelerant. But through time and with the help of unclean teeth and a lack of water the taste had changed into something stronger and somehow even more foul. Mike likened it to the taste of perhaps rancid tree bark. Was there such a thing? Had anyone who had ever lived experienced that?

 

Mike did not like such an open-ended question. Such a thing caused him to remember those strange shows he would occasionally see when he was a child. Showcases of the incredible, the curiosities of the world outside of the West. Footage of men who ran spikes and sword blades through their tongues. Recollections of people dining happily on monkey's brains. The savored ingestion of insects, the Masai who drank a mixture of cows' milk and cow's blood. Headhunter's spooky miscellanea and the Nazca lines. On and on, a parade of sensationalized and out of context tradition, misunderstood and coarsely handled, mixed with things and actions which truly were the bizarre. The exotic and frightening which could not be contained or partitioned away in a carnival sideshow.

 

Mike did not like these particular images any longer. His friends and he loved such things for time when they were very young. They traded these grotesques, seeking them in library books or television and they recounted them poorly but excitedly to one another. They were like campfire ghost stories, but somehow better. The fascinations of ten-year-old boys, to whom the world was wild with potential and excitement. But…

 

Sleeping on a bed of coarse, stiff, barely recognizable toilet paper? Squatting naked and bruised in the corner of an enormous plastic ring box? Were there such things? Had anyone who had ever lived experienced this? What about suddenly being reduced to the size of an insect? What about being captured and tormented by your own mother? Suffering the horror of being cast directly upon the abruptly cyclopean landscapes of another person's body? Floundering, clawing and crying beneath the awning of a monstrous toenail? Were there really such things? Could anyone who had ever lived ever experienced this before?

 

There was a sound in the distance. Mike quickly stood up and held his breath, listening. Thunderous jingling, metallic thunder and then a mechanical shriek. It was like a hellish horse nickering through a culvert pipe: the weather seal of an enormous front door giving way and groaning as the huge aperture was swung open. Mike could hear the approaching steps of the titaness. They were appropriately thunderous, she was moving with purpose, covering miles of linoleum breathtakingly fast. Then Mike instinctively knew she was in the enormous room around him beyond his stupid little quarters. He could feel her movement through the floor, everything swayed slightly like standing in a moving train carriage waffling in a strong wind. He heard a purse being set down some place close and then artificial light brightened his cell. She moved away then, back into the house somewhere.

 

 

 

It was almost an hour before Linda's thunderous steps approached again. What had she been doing back there?

 

"Mikey, Mikey!" 

 

Sections of the bright horizontal crack between the lid and the box's body were blotted out by the enormous flesh of fingers. Mike's room tilted slightly as it rose slowly and he was thrown to the floor. The ascension took much longer than Mike had hoped for, he realized, and he hated it. He was filled with a dreadful anticipation and his body had time enough to make him feel even worse as his muscles and nervous system futilely tried to prepare him. Mike realized that the fight or flight reaction was hellish and destructive when neither choice was ever available at all. He gritted his teeth as his stomach growled and fluttered. But, there was something else, and it made Mike supremely unhappy. His cock grew hard. Fight, flight or fuck, Mike thought to himself, perhaps his mother Linda had truly turned him into an insect. This was the single instruction set of tiny, simple and inconsequential things. Tears came to his eyes and despite his almost painful frown Mike caught himself smiling bitterly.

 

The ring box floated, ceasing it's upward movement. Mike could smell her favorite perfume. Then there were deep, loud thumps and the large, shiny plastic hinges squeaked at something impacted the lid.

 

"Let's see how my little entertainer is faring."

 

The hinges groaned as the lid was forced open. Just in front of and above Mike was a fantastical, sculptural gate, a mortifying entryway composed of little pieces of his mother's body. These were the upper halves of her enormous, deliriously scaled fingertips which rose into the air on each side of him, jutting well beyond the tiny walls of his prison cell. Mike did not need a reminder of his mother's status in comparison with him. But, the evidence was suddenly all around him and it was potent enough to make his stomach hurt. His mother was quite simply an omnipotent goddess now. She was casually gripping his confinement chamber between just a thumb and forefinger. The hillock of thumb pad compressed slightly, fattening and bulging out over the wall of his ominously creaking cell. Between and beyond these feminine gate pillars which held Mike's cell floated his mother, Linda's, vast face.

 

"Oh! Look at that! You're awake! I hope you feel better, Mikey. You gave me quite a scare."

 

Mike's scalp tingled with an uncontrollable panic as the beautiful face smiled down on him. He began to tremble as his mother's other hand swept upwards over his little ring box. A flawless index fingertip stroked the box's wall closest to her face, causing Mike to worry instinctively that she might crush him.

 

 

 

"I bet you're thirsty aren't you? Let's just get you out of there. I want you to go to the center there and stand still for me, please."

 

 

 

The finger withdrew slightly and her thumb joined it, both transforming into a pinch. Mike did as he was told and watched as his mother's pleasant mouth pursed. The scrupulously well-kept fingertips invaded the tiny room from above, entirely filling it. Mike was gently grasped, plucked out like a matchstick. She was moving again, but Mike could not see anything other than the hot, ridged flesh sealed around him. A moment later he was deposited in a palm. He was confronted by the enormous cliff of nicely clothed flat tummy and the distant, immense breasts that comprised his rather limited view of his own mother. He could tell by the window behind him that they were over the kitchen sink. Linda started the water as she hummed to herself. She seemed very happy about something.

 

"Here," the index fingertip lowered next to him, the long convex nail studded with enormous droplets of water the size of Mike's head, "maybe I need to get a bottle cap and fill it up for you, but for now this will have to do."

 

Mike was pretty sure that his titanic mother preferred this option. He nervously crawl on all fours across the very stable yet always subtly wavering palm. He did not dare to stand and move, that was far too dangerous. All trepidation was driven from him by the prospect of water, even water offered like this. Linda's prone fingertip was almost as tall as he was, his shoulders and head barely cleared the top of the nail. Mike lapped at the closest droplet, placing his tiny hands against the red surface to steady himself. He found out that it was best to pierce the almost magical surface tension with his tongue and then as the huge droplet glommed to his cheeks like something static charged, to drink quickly, holding his breath.

 

When he was nearly sated he looked up at the enormous being above him. She was caught in a strange expression, a sort of tenderness, very close to the motherly bearing Mike used to know. But something else was mixed with it. A haughty, confident hunger, perhaps a sort of perverse satisfaction. Mike was starting to be able to read this new version of Linda. She was somewhat aroused, he wagered, probably the sight of his tiny, unafraid form so close to her fingertip coupled with the fact that he was drinking water droplets from her fingernail. He was just so fucking precious now. Mike snarled in disgust and gave her a little show, clambering up onto her colossal finger and laying down against the static digit's bowed nail. It was like resting on a much wider, much longer, more convex version of a Volkswagen Bug's hood, replicated in four inch thick material. Mike noticed his mother's breathing change subtly as he drank in the strange, almost gelatinized droplet. He laughed to himself bitterly.

 

The enormous fingertip shifted, tilting backwards slightly. Mike slid on the cool lacquer and he stopped himself with his tiny hands just past the tidily maintained cuticle. Linda's face lowered, her massive head's movement caused strong eddies of warm air to spill across her palm. She was grinning at Mike who was perched on her finger like the pale stone of some invisible ring.

 

 

 

"I think I need to give you a bath. I bet you're all sticky, aren't you? Stinky and sticky."

 

The digit tilted steeply and Mike slid from the long fingernail, ending up in a pile of arms and legs in front of it. "Oops!" Linda was smug. He was gently prodded by her nail before the colossus withdrew her finger. Mike watched as his mother pondered her index finger in front of her face. A sly smile lit up her face as she rubbed her fingertips softly together.

 

 

 

"You have such tiny ribs, don't you, Mikey? When I pick you up I bet I could easily hurt you without even knowing it. It seems that I've been careful enough so far with you. But, maybe we should try a new way? Something that doesn't involve closing my great big fingers against your teeny-tiny body? Hmm? Let me try picking you up in a… a bit less complicated of a manner," Mike watched in horror as his mother touched the tip of her tongue to her fingertip, "let's see if this is less risky, okay?"

 

 

 

Mike recoiled, ending up on his back in horror as the beautiful hand rotated over above him, "no! Please, mom! This is a terrible idea! This won't be any better! No! No! No!" His mother wasn't listening to his pleas at all as she smiled perniciously, bringing her massive finger down over him like a cut tree in slow-motion free fall.

 

 

 

Linda grinned as her index finger slowly chased the tiny, slowly moving form across her vast palm. "This won't be so bad, Mikey. I promise. Mommy picks up tiny things your size all the time like this. Pebbles and stray beads. Little pieces of dirt. Grains of rice." The enormous blue eyes followed Mike as he crawled cautiously away from her digit. "Ah, ah ah! Where do you think you're going to go?" With a soft giggle the thick red edge of her fingernail knocked him backwards into a heap. The colossal fingertip gently tidied up Mike's naked body with it's nail, pushing his tiny sprawling limbs together. "I promise I'll be gentle," Mike became trapped beneath her hulking digit, his bones popped slightly as the dense, wet pad sealed down over him. He was overwhelmed completely, his pitiful face was forced into her hot spit as it filled every crevice between his tiny limbs. There were loud, vulgar sounds of the air being voided from around his body.

 

 

 

Mike found himself swept upwards into the air, the entire front of his tiny form adhered to his mother's hot saliva. He was slowly rotated as he struggled and choked until he lay stuck facedown on top of her fingertip. Mike found himself looking down the thick, tilted index finger, almost twenty feet of it sloped beyond his perch, to his scale. Beyond his mother's finger was her fist. It was comprised of the huddled row of her index finger's enormous folded sisters, surmounted by a massive, elegant thumb that almost seemed to be standing guard over it's much more graceful charges.

 

Mike was slowly raised up in front of an immense blue eye as he retched and blew the thick saliva away from his mouth and nose. He felt smaller than ever, clinging to the end of his mother's fingertip as she looked him over like an orphaned shirt button she had found on the floor.

 

"How was that? Mommy thought that was a lot easier, but you don't look so happy. Maybe I'll save that little technique for when you make me angry, hmm? Well, let's get you clean, little bug. Don't worry, of course I'll be gentle. I wouldn't want to crush any of these teeny-tiny little bones."

 

 

 

Mike's skyscraper-sized parent ran the tap for a bit as her upturned hand hovered just beyond it's stream. He was forced to dam his ears with the palms of his hands against the ferocious roar of the impacting water far below him. When she approved of the temperature, Linda began to bathe him. A quick swipe of her pinky across the soap dispenser and then through the stream of water was all it took for cleanser.

 

 

 

Mike struggled to adjust to this new hell. Despite his mother's best interests their size difference meant that he was robbed of breath with each tiny movement of her stroking pinky finger. Though the bath was quick, Mike was nearly unconscious from oxygen deprivation and the gentle probing and crushing of her fingertip. After his rinse, he could only lay there. He was limply splayed and gasping, laying haphazardly across the elephantine seams of her fleshy, pillowed palm.

 

 

 

The massive hand Mike lay in came closer to Linda's five story tall face. He passed through the outer, silvery curtains of her hair which framed her bowed head. Linda's gorgeous mouth and nose confronted him. The massive lips pursed and gently blew across his tiny body. Mike was forced to shut his eyes and he cried out in surprise as the cloying, strangely thick and resilient water droplets were driven off of him. This was not a pleasant experience, each water droplet was roughly the size of his fist and they pulled at his skin as they slid across it. Mike really had no analogue, no prior experience at his normal size like this. It felt like silky, quickly flowing tar, perhaps like fist-sized dollops of uncongealed rubber racing across and being peeled from his flesh. Not exactly like either possible oddity, but it was definitely not pleasant.

 

 

 

The huge lips slid away into a smile, revealing those massive, perfect teeth. Linda's voice made his eyes blur with each syllable. "Are you clean now, Mikey? No more nasty stuff on you from your little stay under my toenail?" Her smile grew even larger, fueled by her cruel amusement.

 

 

 

Linda's nostrils flared for a moment and Mike regretted looking up the length of that enormous face. His mother no longer looked human to him in a strange way. Perhaps it was because almost any piece of her larger than her frightening, immaculate fingers or toes was a very real landscape to him. She was more of a collection of vaguely familiar, unique geometries sculpted from vast tracts of flesh than anything else. The varied textures of her endless skin was almost more prevalent to Mike than what massive shape her skin ultimately formed.

 

 

 

Mike would never get used to gazing upon his mother's immense eyes. They, and her nose and mouth seemed to be the only things besides her digits which gave her an easily accessible identity. Outside of these features, Mike could be witnessing the awful, macroscopic majesty of some other random, middle-aged, tanned blonde beauty from perhaps a wide selection of the world's most touristy tropical beaches or ski slopes. After all, thought Mike, where else would one easily find so many of his mother's basic archetype from which to sample?

 

 

 

Mike was not the only one lost in thought. Linda's lower lip bulged and then buckled inwards, sliding and twisting mischievously to one side. The vast, upturned hand twisted slightly as the titaness looked him over. Mike felt the skin of her palm beneath him harden and swell as the immense musculature rippled into action. The curled, slender towers of his mother's relaxed fingers tightened as they bent downwards over him. Mike scrambled out from the shadowy, collapsing cove as four massive fingernails pressed into the hollow of her palm followed quickly by each bulging, well hydrated fingertip. Linda giggled at his plight and then looked over her nails.

 

 

 

"Do you like the polish job you did, Mikey? Of course you do, you can never get enough of my sexy fingers and toes, can you? But, while I appreciate your help, I think you're just too tiny to do it all on your own. Hmm. Maybe I'll shrink some more people. Would you like that? Then they could take care of everything, leaving you free to enjoy the fruits of their labors." The monstrous digits relaxed, sweeping upwards to become a grove of slightly curled pillars once again. The hand slowly elevated, bringing Mike closer to her eyes.

 

 

 

"You love being tiny, don't you, Mikey?" Linda's eyes were mischievous. Her other hand rose above the pillowed, fleshy ledge he lay upon. His mother's thumb and index finger flexed closely together, almost touching each other in a pinch. They slid across her palm, just above her skin at him. "You want to stay like this, don't you? Provided that I'm the one charge, hmm?"

 

 

 

Mike tried to backpedal away from her, but it was useless. The massive digits dipped and caught him from his head down to his waist. The ridged, elliptical structures of dense flesh pressed into him from both sides, flooding his tiny form with tremendous heat. His tiny legs kicked as he shuddered, breathtaken and blind. Mike could still hear his skyscraper-sized parent's voice, though it was quite muted.

 

 

 

"You're happy even if I take advantage of this sexy little body, right? You're always going to be absolutely fine with everything I do. Completely peachy. With the only caveat being that I treat you like a bug. Like an object."

 

 

 

The vast fingertips parted and for a moment Mike was adhered to her thumb. The surface tension was broken and he fell the short distance back to his mother's palm. She gently pet him beneath her index finger.

 

 

 

"My son Mike. Hmm. You would be still out in the world right now, but your behavior made me change my mind. My son Mike, who thinks dirty thoughts about his own mother. My son Mike, the male stripper. My son Mike, the masochist."

 

 

 

Linda's index finger rolled Mike over onto his back. She smirked and whispered, "do you see why you're here now? You needed to be taken out of the world so that you couldn't embarrass me. But really, Mikey, that's just an excuse. If I'm honest with you, well, mommy just couldn't resist."

 

 

 

Linda's pinky finger was back and it lowered over Mike, like a giant, predatory beast, "It's been so long since I've had any toys at all. But, you're not just any toy, Mikey, you are a perfect specimen. You really wanted to be my tiny pet. Mmm. You're going to be the pride of my collection." The massive fingernail pushed his tiny legs apart and nudged his hard shaft. Then the great bulk of her fingertip lowered gently onto the top of him.

 

 

 

"I want you to wrap those tiny arms and legs around mommy. Can you do that for me, Mikey?" Mike shivered as he did so, feeling the press of his tiny, hard cock into the dense skin. Linda carefully lifted him free of her hand and brought her tiny prize up to her eyes. His tiny face was buried against her fingerprint, he looked frightened of his predicament, yet he almost imperceptably was grinding his hips against her fingertip.

 

 

 

"There, right where you belong, Mikey. Wrapped around my little finger like a pretty piece of jewelry." Linda grinned widely and slowly slid her fingertip into her mouth, ignoring the tiny, surprised yelps and pleas. She softly hummed as she slowly explored the tiny form.

 

 

After Mike's humiliation and awkward release Linda placed him back into the ring box with a dresser sized crumb of bread. She gently closed the box with the promise that she would be back soon.

 

 

 

Linda paid for her cab and made her way into her home. Setting down her purse she paused for a moment, giddy to lay eyes on the little ring box sitting in the center of her table. There would be time for him very, very soon. But Linda had passengers that needed to disembark and be tended to. As she padded back to her bedroom she took a mental inventory of what was in the storage closet.

 

Linda hummed to herself as she rummaged through the closet, Mike was still a part of this family, in a way, though the term "family" itself seemed ridiculous. The divorce had reduced the family to only two. Reduced. Linda smiled. Now the family consisted of herself and a son who could be helplessly trapped beneath a bottle cap. Still, Mike deserved to be there, after all, this was personal for him. Perhaps this would prove cathartic for Mike. She hoped so. Mike needed to know. Besides, whether this was done in front of Mike or not, these were presents, proper birthday presents. There had to be some decorum, something to mark the occasion in her mind. Linda found a box from a pair of earrings that she had kept, and she retrieved wrapping paper as well.

 

She laid her supplies on her bed and moved to her bathroom, the earring box in hand. Linda deposited the box on the counter and opened it. With great care and gentleness she eased the ring from her finger, keeping it oriented upside down the entire time. She slowly raised the upturned ring to one of her eyes and with bated breath she focused on the tiny white bundle secreted within. Half a minute went by, and then, apparently sensing that there would be no further movement, the tissue within the ring's hollow rustled, and with great effort it was pushed away. Linda giggled as the tiny head and shoulders rose up out of the white, crumpled nest.

 

The tiny girl cried out, startled by the sound and she turned. Linda grinned broadly as the fairy-girl fell backwards, disappearing down into the tissue at the sight of the intrusive blue eye.

 

"There's no reason to be shy! You made it! Brenda-bug, I'm so glad you came! Perhaps I'll show you the rest of the house later, but right now wouldn't you like to freshen up a bit? Hmm?"

 

Linda tipped the ring into a waiting palm. Both pieces of tissue, her fairie's protective covering and the tiny cushion tumbled out. The little passenger sprawled face down against Linda's thick, sensitive skin. As she watched, the tiny girl rolled over and quickly hazarded a frantic look upwards at her face before scrambling into the hollow, tomato shaped protective wrapper. The titaness smiled, lowering her face over her hand.

 

"Where did she go? I thought I saw her for second, but she's gone! Wow! A happy ending for tiny Brenda, just like that! Well, with her gone, off to have a happy life, I guess I don't need these shreds of tissue anymore. Into the toilet with them."

 

Linda grasped the tiny cushion between her nails and then swiftly dropped it into the toilet. Frantic cries erupted from the hollow ball and the tiny girl crawled out awkwardly from her concealment. Linda's fingertips closed on the fairy-wrapper and she smiled, pinching it flat between them where it sat. The diminutive girl recoiled, pulling her legs away protectively from the huge digits. The enormous fingertips darkened the tissue slightly with shed skin oils as Linda rolled it into a tiny ball. Linda brought the wad up close to the fairy-girl and held it still for a moment before dropping it in front of her.

 

"Aren't you glad that you weren't in there?"

 

Linda slowly flicked the tissue wad with an elegant nail into the bathroom mirror.

 

"All done! Now, let's see, do you just need to powder your little nose, or do you require a bath to make you presentable?"

 

Linda lowered her middle finger down and the dark-haired beauty fell to her back, anything to prevent the repulsive touch. Linda's fingertip shadowed her as the fairy crawled backwards, elbows and heels sending charming, tiny sensations whispering through her palm. The nice smelling, ridged skin contacted her and she was arrested completely. The plump pad sealed down over her before it slid down the entire length of her tiny, screaming form and raised again, hovering for another pass.

 

"Hmm. I don't know, Brenda. This is going to be a casual gathering, but… Wait a second. What's this?"

 

The fingertip lightly touched down again. The fairy-girl was weeping as the digit ran lightly over her lower body. She began screaming and gripped the thick edge of the fingernail tightly in both hands as she pushed against it.

 

"Brenda! You are all sticky down here!"

 

Linda lowered her face even further, until it encompassed everything the tiny being could see. She wore a concerned, mildly shocked look upon it. Linda raised her fingertip up from her for a brief moment causing the tiny fairy to lose her grip on the enormous edge of the fingernail, her tiny arms swung wildly as she pitched back to the palm. Linda squinted her eyes as she fought to focus on such a tiny target, peering down upon her monstrously. The young woman's skin was red from Linda's intrusive finger and her tiny face glinted wetly in the bathroom's florescent lights as she wailed one short word repeatedly. Linda's face looked naïvely puzzled, and as the tiny thing covered up her crotch with both hands protectively, Linda frowned.

 

"Are you trying to hide something from me, or are you just being modest? Is that where you are sticky, Brenda-bug? My goodness! What did you do, pour a gallon of syrup down your pants? For me to feel that, at my size… well."

 

Linda's fingertip lowered again through the rain of tiny kicks and the five foot diameter monstrosity gently and tentatively probed. The fairy-girl once again latched onto the end of Linda's fingernail, screaming and growling as she pushed against it, her tiny shoulders grinding into the palm in a figure eight.

 

"You didn't pour a gallon of syrup down your pants. Those little twigs you somehow walk around on aren't sticky at all! God, what's this? Eew. I think I found it."

 

Linda effortlessly pulled free of the tired sprite's grasp and she held her fingertip up to her face, grimacing as she tilted it in the cold, florescent lighting. Linda slowly shook her head and the middle finger folded to make way for the much more dexterous index finger. The beautiful hand rotated and lowered again over the panting sprite. The huge index fingertip lightly mopped across the tiny hips. The little sprite weakly pounded her fists against the dense, nearly immovable flesh.

 

"Is this what I think it is?"

 

The index finger gracefully dipped and as the agitated fairy-girl landed blows on the broad painted surface, the tip of the fingernail lightly scraped across her bush, removing a sample onto the bottom of the broad nail's thick edge with a tiny swipe. Linda raised her finger to her nose and feigned a sniff. She blinked her eyes and her mouth frowned in disgust. The enormous upturned fingertip intruded upon the pitiful creature and the cherry-red, Asgardian sized nail tip was brandished right in front of her face as she shrank back into the pillow of flesh beneath her.

 

"Smell that. What does that smell like to you? It smells like sex to me. Brenda, did you have sex with someone today?"

 

The tiny girl erupted in a fountain of over-stimulated tears as the blunt, thick edge touched her face. The enormous fingernail caught under her chin and Linda looked into the seed sized face.

 

"Who were you having sex with? If you haven't figured it out yet... oh, never mind. You're hopeless! So, you teeny tiny slut...were you and Steve having sex right before I showed up?"

 

The tiny thing extended her arms over the frightening curved shovel-shelf and ran her hands entreatingly over the bulge of ridged flesh right above the humongous upturned fingernail. Linda could feel every plaintive caress there on the seldom used array of nerve endings. She kept her face stern.

 

"Did I interrupt Steve and you having sex? Yes or no?"

 

The tiny thing nodded yes once slowly and then again more confidently, giving in to the terrible acknowledgment. Linda slowly pulled back her fingertip. The tiny wretch eagerly followed it, trying to stop Linda, to make her pay attention, her tiny hands ran across Linda's flesh, even as Linda could plainly see that the desperate act was only barely able to override the young woman's terror of her.

 

It took everything Linda had not to smile broadly down at her. She stopped moving her pronated fingertip and rested it on her palm, "allowing" the tiny girl to continue touching her with the delicate, miniature hands. When the huge digit stopped the sprite crawled quickly to it. The tiny thing was petting her, she was standing now, next to the upturned, hippopotamus sized fingertip. Her tiny hands ran over the vast, primitive looking ridges of the fingerprint. She was babbling tearfully, her chafed and ruddy naked body pressed against the resting, swollen cushion of flesh. Her arms outstretched, her tiny fingers implored Linda to listen to her, and she occasionally looked up at the titaness as she pressed her tiny hands, reverently stroking and tracing the tight heart of the swirls. Linda held her face appropriately composed, and the tiny thing was speaking with a quavering, broken voice.

 

"I'm sorry, tiny Brenda, but I can't understand a word you're saying. You are just too tiny, you see. We should get you cleaned up for the party. Mike will be there. You should think about what you're going to say to him."

 

The fairy-girl jerked her head back, her eyes large enough that even Linda could see the change, the terror. She began screaming a rapid panicked stream of words. As she continued, the tiny thing threw herself across Linda's upturned fingertip. The tiny head was thrown back again, dark hair bouncing, and a piercing, agonized falsetto erupted from her tiny mouth. Linda could almost understand her, but it was too faint, too garbled and tainted with hysteria. Linda knew well enough the whole idea behind it, the exact substance of it. She herself had hoped to orchestrate this very inference by bringing the pair of them immediately from the cab to her bedroom: 'Mike is normal sized. Mike knows and you were sent to catch us in the act. Sent to shrink us somehow. Don't take us to Mike like this, please!'

 

The preciously vulnerable girl clung pleadingly to Linda's fingertip, cheek pressed to it, arms and legs pressed round it as far as the tiny things could reach. Linda carefully raised her finger up off of her hand. This was beginning to get to her and a nice, tension filled warmth grew and spread from down low between her legs. Linda lowered her eyes and studied the frightened, naked body. Her tears and her dirty, reddened skin were mingling. She felt like a baby frog to Linda, a suction of moisture affixing her in place on the pad of the feminine fingertip, much more beautiful than a froglet in her own way, yet much less substantial.

 

The fairy-girl was looking at her now and Linda could almost understand her as the sprite stretched an arm out towards her eyes. Linda slowly turned her head and presented a colossal ear.

 

"-will kill me! I'm so sorry! I'll do anything you want, please, don't-"

 

Linda turned back again.

 

"Teentsy tiny, we have to get ready now. You should have been a good girl, but you weren't, were you?"

 

She erupted again, her broken, liquidy voice repeating the same thing over and over.

 

"I'm sorry and I appreciate the offer. I'd love to help you, I know it was just a stupid mistake. But, Brenda, this is permanent, don't you understand? What I did to you is permanent. If I freed you, where would I take you? To your parents? You would tell them what I did, Brenda-bug. I would be imprisoned. Never to see the light of day again."

 

The dark-haired beauty clung tighter to Linda's fingertip and her tiny, shapely legs spread wider as she pressed inwards against her. Linda listened to her promises for a moment, but she really just wanted to slip her down the front of her panties.

 

"My tiny Brenda! I don't have the heart to keep you with me, hidden away from Mike. It wouldn't be right! I made a promise to my son! Besides, I hate to say it, but at your size you are completely useless! Maybe you could fish something out of one of my eyes once in a while. A stray eyelash, you know, something like that. I suppose… I guess maybe you could remove a splinter once in a while. But, tiny fairy girl, how often does anyone get a splinter they can't handle? It's pointless. You couldn't even help me with my nails."

 

Linda slowly began to bring her thumb into line, as the tiny thing urgently refuted her. Linda waited until she had sufficiently ran herself ragged before bringing her once again to her ear.

 

"-anything you want to me, just save my life! You can-"

 

Linda turned back. The tiny Brenda-fairy was reaching out towards her eyes again, her face bright red. Linda could feel the fluttery pump of the naked girl's hollow stomach as it thrummed, panting against her fingertip. Linda engulfed the back of her body in the end of her thumb.

 

"Hold on now, I'm going to sit down."

 

Linda turned slowly and perched herself on the toilet lid. She peered into the tiny face that was blooming out of the crevice of her pinched fingers. She thought over what she had said, biting her lower lip nervously. Linda looked around and feigned listening intently for a moment before turning back to the captured girl. Linda brought the tiny creature up close to her face and whispered conspiratorially to her.

 

"Anything? You would let me… I could do anything? To you? I mean… I wouldn't want to hurt you, but… He's in the other room! I guess I could just tell him… Maybe he would be satisfied with just Steve?"

 

The tiny red face was strained, Linda could see the tiny mouth, agape, lip quivering.

 

"I would have to make up a story. That you ran into the street before I could get to you? But… You would be with me for the rest of our lives. Even if… If I shrank someone else to be with you. Both of you would have to stay with me. You would just have to! Look at me! How long do you think I would last in prison? The guards would rape me! I just know they would!"

 

Linda feigned listening again suddenly. She leaned, keeping her face out of view for a long moment before sitting up straight again. Linda bit her lower lip again in concern and then focused on the tiny head.

 

 

"I meant what I said. You would have to stay with me for the rest of your life. If you were ever separated from me, and you told the authorities, you know what would happen to me. But, what about you? Think about it, the federal government would whisk you away to some lab some place. If you're lucky you would live out your days with experiments ran on you constantly, but… Just look how tiny you are compared to me. How difficult do you think it would be for them to do research on someone who isn't even an inch tall? How could they attach electrodes... get a blood sample? Gosh. No, I'm pretty sure they would... dissect... you. I'm sorry to tell you that, but that's what I think. It might not be ethical, but it's logical."

 

Linda stared sadly into the tiny face.

 

"I'm sorry for what I did to you earlier… I was just so angry with you after what Mike told me you did, before he asked me to… you know. But, sweetie, you have got to prove to me that you're serious about this. You have to! You said anything. I heard you, you said I could do anything I wanted to you if I just kept you safe from Mike. So…"

 

Linda frowned, silent for a moment, apparently deep in thought. She looked away from the sprite, glancing around the bathroom before freezing in place to seemingly listen intently for a moment. She looked relieved and worried.

 

"I thought I heard him. He has to be getting impatient with me. Wondering what I am doing. But, does he think it's easy to look like this?" Linda smiled and then grew a bit sad, "I am so fucking weak sometimes. I let him talk me into this. He didn't even come with me! Leaving me all alone to deal with his unfaithful girlfriend and his roommate."

 

Linda frowned, apologetically.

 

"I'm sorry, well, you were unfaithful, weren't you? Well, maybe you were just weak. Nobody deserves to be… tiny, you know... because of that," Linda shook her vast, beautiful head, "you are like this because I was weak."

 

Linda smiled sympathetically.

 

"Weakness can be good though, right? I'm going to help you… save you, because I am weak. God, Linda, coerced by someone the size of a bug. How do you do this to yourself?"

 

Linda brought in her index fingertip to caress the tiny head with the enormous red fingernail. She stopped before she touched her, realizing that she could not, and should not comfort her like that. She hesitantly raised her fingertip and looked at it idly as she spoke.

 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you."

 

Linda was in thought silently for a bit. She sighed, and appeared sadly committed to an idea.

 

"Okay. Alright. I hate to do this to you, you poor thing, but I have to make sure that you're committed to this. Mike seems nice enough, I know, but if he's really pushed… Okay. I'll save you from Mike, I will never let him step on you… crush you… like a cigarette butt, that's what he… well, that's not going to happen to you. He won't be doing that to you. Now, this is going to be terrible, what I'm going to do to you, but I have to know. If you're going to stay with me, you have to get used to my size, used to me… touching you… handling you… and... sweetie... sometimes in the spring, spiders come into the house. You're going to have to be very close to me at all times. But especially then, and through the summer. I can't be expected to spot every single bug! No one could do that! I will have to always know where you are... and you're so tiny. So... you might have to be… on… me. When you're not in your little doll house, or whatever we decide on."

 

Linda brought her closer to her face and smiled, awkwardly and sweetly.

 

"You think I'm… pretty, don't you? I mean, you know. Not in that way, it wasn't meant that way, honestly. Just… to protect you, from the bugs who might get inside. If you think I'm pretty maybe it won't be so bad for you. Do you?"

 

Her tiny Brenda look-alike nodded slowly.

 

"I'm so sorry. I know this won't be much of a life for you. I'm sorry for that. But you'll be safe, and alive! I'm not really a bad person! But since you're so tiny… you and I, we will have to be sort of… intimate, you know. For your own safety! Spiders, cockroaches, mosquitoes, who knows what else. Oh god, those nasty silverfish things... sometimes...well.”

 

The beautiful titaness shivered in disgust.

 

“I promise to... keep... you somewhere that isn't too bad. Someplace I can keep track of you. On my tummy, or my leg, in my hand... maybe... I'm so sorry! But, maybe tucked carefully into the top of my bra... but only when I have to! In an emergency! When there isn't a choice! Okay. Well, splinters, stray eyelashes. Whatever else seems reasonable. In return... you'll be alive and I'll be good to you! So, you have to prove to me... I'm going to do something you won't like. Don't struggle. You have to prove to me that it's worth keeping you safe. Keeping you hidden from Mike. Betraying the trust a son has with his mother, and living with that guilt while I protect you from this terrible predicament Mike and I… Don't struggle, sweetie, and do as I say. It will be over soon and you will be safe. Mike will never squish you. Do as I say, please. Just prove to me you are... I'm sorry for this, sweetie but I have to know for sure you are not lying to me too."

 

Linda lowered the little being and gently deposited her onto her forearm.

 

"You will have to get used to this, unless you want to take your chances with the spiders. Some of them are quite big sometimes. This isn't so bad, is it?"

 

The fairy-girl rolled, disturbed and wincing, she was upon her knees and was trying to keep the sea of shin-length blonde hairs from touching her. She pushed one off of her thigh in disgust, but the wiry and translucent golden filament snapped back across her skin. A mammoth, well manicured hand hovered a respectful distance from her and the same fingertip she had clung to lightly caressed the golden crop, dimpling the tanned skin beneath it as it roamed.

 

"I'm sorry. I didn't think about… my hair… you are just so tiny! If you pass your... umm... audition, Brenda, I'll wax or get one of those ultraviolet gadgets. If you want me to. I would do that for you, you know, to make you feel comfortable for when you… I've never done that to my arms. I'm very light blonde. Fortunate, I guess."

 

Linda gave her an apologetic look, slightly pouty and solemn.

 

"You are going to have to be on me, on my skin for a long time sometimes. If we are watching television, or I am reading to you, or something. Can you come to me? It isn't too much for you, is it? Could you just… crawl across my arm? I know I am frightening to you. But you have to try, you have to show me. You won't be happy staying all locked away in a dollhouse or wandering around some scale tabletop town made for a train set. You have to accept me the way I am. After all, I will be caring for you completely. Think about that, all that work, all that time and care. It will be real work, no matter how tiny you are! Could you do that? If I was an inch tall and had to rely on you for the rest of my life? Could you? Okay. Please... come over here, you can do it, I know you can. You have to get used to your new size, to being on me. Otherwise…"

 

The fingertip tapped lightly at a spot on the swell of the forearm near to the elbow crease. The naked sprite hesitatingly started to crawl through the wiry, curved filaments which evenly studded the entire narrow landscape. Her hair was pulled away from her head by them as she passed, they poked her in the chest and legs, they threatened her face. She raised up into a stoop and would awkwardly step over them, occasionally dropping back to all fours when the wildly focally-distorted titaness would move slightly.

 

"See? It isn't so bad! But I think for both our sakes I will have to begin doing home hair-removal. Just one more hobby to undertake, I guess. But I can already see it would make you much happier."

 

The tiny thing drew close to the enormous hand. The elegant thumb and index finger shifted as she approached and they loosely faced each other at the spot Linda designated as her finish line.

 

Linda fought not to grin as her tiny Brenda-girl approached her hand. She thought to herself how humbling it must be to volunteer yourself to be pinched up like a bug in another person's fingers. Linda loved how they felt, how they looked as she pinched them. A whole person, memory, motivations, hopes, opinions, deadlines, mortgages, genitalia, faces and hairstyles. All of that halted, overruled and trembling between her fingers, wide-eyed, helpless and rendered completely inert. Linda did not disappoint her. The tiny girl shivered as Linda's lovely enforcers took control of her, molding to her and effortlessly rescinding everything but breath, thought and blood flow.

 

"Thank you, Brenda. Now I know, I really do. You and I will be able to sit together. I'll be able to look after you as carefully as I must. Now, let's see, eyelashes. Hmm. Well, I am not going to introduce you to my eyes, to my face. I don't have enough room in here to lie down and frankly it frightens me a little bit to have you so close to one of my eyes. I might flinch. I don't want to hurt you, I just want you to know what your life will be like if I save you from becoming a bloodstain in a paper towel. Oh god!”

 

Linda's mouth hung open in horror for a moment. She slowly shook her head and then brought the tiny college girl closer, staring into the tiny face sadly. Finally, Linda stopped brooding and fought to become constructive once again.

 

“Okay. Let's see then. Splinters I guess… But, you were just on my arm, and in my hand. I am very sorry, but you have become very familiar with my great big fingers. Those would get the most splinters. I know! You won't like it, but… aren't you proving something to me? Aren't you earning your clemency? So take deep breaths and be strong. You deserve to live, don't you? I think so"

 

Linda placed her carefully in her palm for a moment so she could pick her up in a slightly adjusted pinch. She stood up and slowly turned around, facing the toilet. She raised one beautiful foot and placed it softly on the toilet lid. The tiny, unfortunate girl could no longer see her face. Linda lowered her hand slowly to her foot and as she did so she whispered to her, a little, evil smile playing across her lips.

 

"I'm sorry for this. Don't struggle. Don't do that. If you need to scream, I understand. You scream a lot, don't you? It must be very frightening to be so tiny."

 

The tiny girl hovered over the enormous toes and then she was brought to the outside, over the pinky toe.

 

"Splinters. What if there is a splinter right here?"

 

The tiny body was gently laid onto the closed crevice between her smallest and fourth toes. Linda could feel the halting sobs ripple across her own skin. "This one time, I got a splinter in there, right there, between these two toes. I think it was a tiny thorn. I couldn't see it. It festered terribly, all red and swollen. But... you could have found it, easily! I know that's a terrible thing to ask of you, but... well... I'm sorry."

 

 

 

The little naked fairy-girl shifted, hugging her own torso tightly, "Oh! Please, don't-" Linda's massive toes reared upwards as they spread, "You're tickling me!" There was an almost imperceptable cry as the young woman tried to cling to Linda's flesh. She slipped between the two massive digits as they relaxed again to the toilet seat.

 

 

 

"Oh no!" The tiny thing was thrashing in panic against the immoveable walls, "Hold still! I'll get you out of there! Just hold still!" Linda's thumb and index finger intercepted the clenched toes as they raised. For a moment the poor thing was enclosed completely in a box composed of finger and toe flesh. Linda paused for a second like that and savored the tiny, quivering lump she had trapped. "Easy now, there we go!" The girl was carefully retrieved.

 

"Whew. Well, you did very good. If Mike wonders where I am, I might have to hide you. I told you, if you have to scream, do it. But not if Mike is here. Or he might find you, and neither of us want that."

 

Linda raised her up again and she stood slowly. Linda's face was sad but she gave her a brave smile.

 

"There is something we haven't discussed. But it is important, very important, now I think about it. So, I want to wash you off. Is that okay? I'll be so gentle with you, I promise."

 

Linda brought her to the sink and turned on the faucets. She adjusting the water until it was tepid and then she filled up her cupped palm. She lowered her plaything into her temporary pool and let go of her. Linda smiled down at her, enchanted, truly enjoying the sight. She swiped her finger across the dry bar of soap and began to scrub her as gently as she could. What Linda did was very brief and to the point. When she deemed the tiny college girl clean she took her back up again and refilled her hand. She rinsed her off and then raised her to her face.

 

"This next thing will be very important for us. What if I get a cavity? What if something gets stuck between my teeth and I can't get it out, even with floss, dried thyme can do that, sticking into a gum. Or a popcorn hull. That happens all the time to people. Sometimes they can't get it out for a whole day. This is something you will have to do every once in a while for me, if I save your life. I know it's going to be scary, I'm sorry. But if you can't do this… You can scream, I understand."

 

Linda gathered her up gently and lovingly. She raised the tiny form to her lips and smiled sweetly. The fairy-girl was trembling terribly and Linda felt a little thrill at it.

 

"Just for a minute, I promise."

 

Linda slowly opened her mouth, the straight, perfect teeth gleamed with saliva. She leaned forward, looking in the mirror and gently deposited the tiny creature onto her tongue. Linda fought not to move too much and she ached so badly. She pressed a hand firmly between her legs and her eyebrows raised sympathetically as she fought not to quiver.

 

The tiny girl laid still on the enormous, pebbly tongue. Linda could taste the remnants of the soap, the perfume of it slightly bitter. A stream of saliva shot from a salivary gland involuntarily, a narrow, squirting stream, and it coated the upper molars on one side of the pink cavern. At this the tiny thing began to wail. Linda watched the tiny fairy within the vast frame of her beautiful lips, laying demurely, centered upon the great stage of her tongue. The corners of Linda's mouth fought to upturn into a smile. The wail grew stronger and Linda could see her look about wildly in disbelief at the enormous features which surrounded her.

 

Then the tiny girl caught sight of herself in the mirror. Linda could feel the clenching of tiny fingers as the wail turned into a hysterical scream. It was enough. Any moment now the Brenda would break and begin thrashing. Linda's reached in and extricated her.

 

She placed her in her palm and sat back down on the closed toilet. She brought her face down and looked at her with concern.

 

"You did it! I know it was bad, but you'll only have to be in there a short time. Maybe, if we're lucky, you'll never have to go in that awful place again. I want to touch you. But I don't want to scare you. Besides, the worst is yet to come. I know what the final test is going to be now. Just one more and I will believe you. Then, it's you and I against all those spiders and mosquitoes. We are going to be good friends, believe it or not. Just one more test."

 

Linda sat quietly as the tiny thing regained her composure. They stared at each other for a bit and then Linda realized something.

 

"You know what? I don't even know your name. What's your name?"

 

Linda brought her up to her ear and listened intently before bringing her back in front of her enormous face

 

"Jesse. Jesse! That's a nice name, Jesse! Okay. Are you ready for the last test? This is going to be terrible. But, just remember why you're doing this. Why it is I can't take you at your word yet. You've done so very good so far. When I said you couldn't even help me with my nails it seemed like you didn't agree with that. Maybe you're right. I don't know. But, neither one of us really wants you to die."

 

Linda scooted back against the tank of the toilet. She place the heel of her left foot on the toilet seat's edge. The huge toes slowly wiggled for a moment. Linda lowered the wet girl down until she floated in front of the enormous big toe. She brought her to the thick edge of the toenail and paused there for a moment.

 

"My toes are so big compared to you, Jesse! Well, I suppose I don't need to be telling you that. I guess it's pretty obvious, isn't it? It is amazing to me how tiny… well... I'm sorry about what I did to you earlier, you know... how I… kept you… trapped, in that terrible place. In my... well... you know. I'm so sorry!”

 

Linda wiggled her enormous pretty toes and felt a spasm shoot through the tiny body she clasped so delicately, deliciously between her fingers. It settled into a slight, barely perceptible trembling.

 

"Maybe you can help me with my nails, I hope so. You're so small. I don't think it would be safe for you to paint them, not at all. Those terrible fumes and chemicals. But there are other things that you might be able to do. Everyone likes designs on their nails nowadays, it's very trendy- they make these sheets, they are like decals. You know, like those model kits for boys, how they put those numbers on the little race cars? Decals, that's what those are. But with you being so tiny, maybe you could paint designs on my nails? You could turn me into the nail art queen! I would really like that, and I think it would be good for you to have some sort of an outlet. Something to do. Well, that's just a thought. I know that… after what I did… You're probably frightened of me. Of my toes. It seems like such a silly thing to say, but I understand. Just look at you, poor thing! You're just so tiny!"

 

The trembling was fading. She was very adaptive, resilient. Linda would have probably liked her had things turned out differently. Linda sighed and scooted her foot back further, anchoring it underneath of her comfortably on the toilet seat.

 

"Well, every time I go to paint my nails, you know, after I take the polish off, there are a lot of things I have to do to get them ready. To prepare them, you know. Maybe you could help me somehow with that? You are very tiny. It wouldn't be much of a trouble for you, I think. It's always so awkward to care for my toenails. You know what I mean, I bet. You like having nice nails, don't you Jesse? I can't imagine my son being with someone who didn't take good care of their nails. They say men often look for someone who reminds them of their mother. Well, I've always taken pride in having nice nails. There is just something about it. Do you know what's odd, Jesse, now that I think about it? Mike painted my toenails yesterday. Don't you think that was nice of him? What do you think? Did he do a good enough job for a first-timer?"

 

Linda slightly arched her mighty big toe until Jesse's tiny face hovered just above it, close enough that her fairy-breaths fogged the shiny, cool surface of the tastefully long toenail with condensation. Jesse began trembling again and the ghost of a tiny whimper reached Linda's ears.

 

"He wanted to do something nice for his mother. I really appreciated it. So, I think maybe you won't mind doing this for me. I would appreciate that too, Jesse. After all, you are so tiny and it is so awkward for me. But it won't be any trouble for you. Don't struggle, Jesse. Remember what you did to Mike. He was going to marry you! Well, you don't need reminding. I apologize. I am his mother after all, please understand my position. Okay Jesse… I'll need you to do this sometimes, once in a while, along with the other things. But, I spend a lot of time on my nails. You'll most likely only have to do this two or three times a week, tops. But maybe not just when I paint my toenails, it depends. You'll probably be able to let me know when it needs to be done. You are not going to die, Jesse. I promise you, Mike will never have the chance to smash you into a paste. Now prove to me you're sincere! Once and for all."

 

Linda inserted Jesse's tiny head up underneath her long toenail. Immediately the screams issuing forth from that tiny place were incredible to listen to. Linda used Jesse's tiny wet head to gently clean up underneath of her toenail. Linda was shaking with an endless, silent giggle. She ran the tiny head softly against the underside of her toenail. Stroking the squeaking, squealing little nib against the hard, slick, unvarnished shell. Then she began to explore using the college girl's upper body as a gentle probe, keeping her clamped in her monstrous fingertips from her elbows down to the tips of her toes. Linda softly wedged the tiny head and shoulders into the furthest recesses underneath her long toenail. She would leave her there for a moment, savoring the terrible juxtaposition, before dragging her slowly on to another part of the tacky crevice. Linda investigated the outer edges of the wide under hang using the tiny, wiggling head, where her toenail dove and was anchored to the dense flesh. It was a long five minutes, Linda supposed, being pinched like that, dealing with all of that.

 

Linda pulled Jesse carefully out from underneath her huge toenail. She delicately slid the tiny breasts and face across the top edge of the nail lightly, catching sight of the little opaque trail of sweat and funk they left behind as a thin demarcation of where the nail ended, where the careful shaping began. "I think Mike did an excellent job, don't you? You'll help me with my nails, won't you, Jesse?" Linda slowly dragged the tiny woman's upper body lightly across the long toenail of her arched big toe, "I would like that. You can help me keep them nice. I think that will be fun for the both of us! My toes deserve attention." She was smiling as the tiny face was stroked across her cuticle.

 

She arched her toe and lightly pressed the front side of the fairy-girl into the vast middle of her toe's print for a moment. She wanted to do so much more, but she had already cheerfully and silently screamed, “Surprise!” into the tiny sweaty body and desperate, doom-addled brain.

 

True to her end of the bargain, tiny Jesse didn't struggle through it all. But, honestly, it wasn't fair, she would not have been able to do more than shrug or throw her tiny head about on the end of her neck.

 

Finally she removed her from her foot entirely. Linda deposited Jesse into her palm. The tiny thing was nearly broken for the moment. She lay in a despondent heap and would not look at Linda, she did not even make an attempt at wiping the horror from her body. She had only the hope that she might live. Now that was assuredly almost as bad as death, at least for the moment it seemed so. Linda was not her reluctant savior. Linda was not weak, like she had said. When Linda had referred to her in cute affectation as a bug it wasn't an endearment. Linda had meant it.

 

"Let me just clean you up in a nice bath again and then while you rest I'll get Steve. You can say goodbye to him before he goes to the party. I believe you, Jesse. You will never betray me. I'm going to keep my end of our bargain and do my utmost to protect you from my son. I hope you and I can become good friends. We're going to be very close, you and I. It's over now, my teentsy tiny fairy-girl. Come on, let's get you clean."

 

Jesse was limp and in shock as Linda's enormous fingertips gently tended to her. When she was done, Linda nestled her down into the earring box. "There we go, all nice and clean," Linda's voice thundered, the sound waves causing a momentary itch which raced across the tiny woman's skin. Jesse's eyes were clamped shut and she could not stop violently trembling.

 

Jesse was in shock, her nervous system was overloaded, she could only quake. Warm air rushed over her and Jesse dared to peek. Linda's huge face hovered just outside the box, filling the space beyond it like a cinema screen. The enormous blue eyes were right there, taking in her tiny form. One hand was curled directly over the tiny woman's box, monstrous, well-kept fingertips poised to pinch. The beautiful mouth slid into a smile. Jesse trembled violently as the gargantuan digits dipped into the tiny box, blotting out the vast cheerful face beyond it.

 

"Aww. Poor thing! You're a wreck, aren't you? I can't have Steve seeing you like this. You look like a broken toy, Jesse! You need to keep your dignity. Shh. It's okay! I won't hurt you."

 

With infinite care the colossal thumb and index fingertips lowered until the nail tips touched the bottom of the ominously creaking and shifting box on each side of her. They gently closed on Jesse's tiny body, compacting and trapping her in their fingernails rock-hard vice like a bit of lint. Linda was grinning down on her, the soft and naked form was trapped against the underside of the pinching fingernails. The tiny head was visibly quaking where it stuck out sideways from between the gently clenched, ruby-red surfaces. Linda raised her upwards and smirked at the tiny, wide-eyed face. Jesse was trying to scream, but only a hoarse rasping warble left her twitching mouth.

 

"I won't tell Steve where you've been... Where I stuck your... Well, it will be our little secret. He doesn't ever need to know about our girl time together. Here, let's just make you presentable."

 

The flawless hand twisted slightly and laid Jesse down again face-up and straight in the center of the box. Linda's face came in even closer and her platinum blonde hair cascaded, rustling and scraping against the outside walls of the earring box. Linda's happy blue eyes guided her mighty thumb and forefinger. The huge curving nail-tips delicately captured Jesse's tiny calves and arms in careful pinches. The tiny limbs were rearranged conscientiously, nicely. Jesse was limp, but screamed the entire time as the dreadful fingernails gently captured and placed her delicate limbs. Linda callously ignored her terrified protests and her own colossal mouth's whispered words overpowered the tiny screams.

 

"The next time we get together for our girl time, I'll try and be even more gentle with you, I promise! Maybe we can try putting all of you underneath one of my toenails? I bet you'll fit! Then I can leave you there! Only while you're cleaning, of course! I'm not some kind of a monster, no matter what you might think. You're just helping me Jesse. Helping me to be pretty! Oh, sweetie, I know! I have two big toes, don't I? Well, we'll work up to that. I know you're just a teeny-tiny little thing. I completely understand. I won't be disappointed in you. So, don't you worry your tiny little head about that! Just think! You're mine now! Isn't that wonderful? My very own tiny little bug-girl."

 

Finally the colossal, silvery and gold mountainess smiled, blowing Jesse a kiss before running a pretty fingertip lightly over her and softly closing the lid.

 

Linda's nipples were hard and almost painful. Her pima cotton shirt had small trailing rivulets of material pushed out and freed by her arousal, cloth contrails which kept her shirt from shaping nicely against her. As Linda stared in the mirror she struggled to recall what memory her shirt had partially unearthed. Long ago, an old boyfriend had taken a picture of Linda while they were drunk, a ski resort if she remembered rightly. She was exiting the cold pool after having just sat for much too long in the heavily mineralized hot spring. She had been captured comically in the photograph, the almost ice cold water cascading neatly in little arches away from her hard nipples, her boyfriend, generally somewhat of a prick, had pronounced her nipples gargoyles. The scary stone waterspouts which surveyed everything from the corners of old castles with their fierce Gothic stares.

 

The fingertips of one hand rested on the lid of the small earring box. Linda stayed like that for a while, riding through the ache until it was just a restless murmur and uncomfortably clinging moisture. She took a deep breath and then focused again, breaking away from her trance. Picking up the scissors Linda went into the bedroom and unfurled the wrapping paper across her expensive coverlet. She snipped off a square and rolled the now unbalanced, unruly paper back onto it's dusty smelling tube. Linda padded once again into the bathroom and gently lifted the tiny box, sliding the wrapping paper face down beneath it. With that done she was now ready to look to her other plaything.

 

Linda lifted her thin shirt high and temporarily tucked a wad of it's front hem into the elastic bridge of her bra which spanned between her breasts, keeping it out of the way. Linda came back into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of her bed, arching her back forward, finding the right spot in which she could peer unimpeded at the adhesive anchored bandage. She fought to get a fingernail beneath an edge of the shiny plastic film. Finally she found a spot and slowly peeled back the hastily conceived wall.

 

It almost looked like Linda had a shallow, sort of ugly belly button. Steve's tan almost blended in with her own, but he was darker, like brown sugar. Linda giggled and it immediately alarmed her as the fleshy foxhole of her belly button quaked violently, precisely in and out. Linda found it quite difficult to stop giggling and she fought against it for more than a minute. This potentially serious predicament caused her to giggle even more and by the time she had tired of that concept as humorous, the tiny, fetally curled form was primordially comical once again.

 

Finally, Linda managed to calm down. There had been no movement from her remaining passenger. Linda grew a bit worried for him. She brought a finger to her belly button and checked each fingernail in turn against her navel, rejecting each one, it was too much like searching for a correct house key. Her pinky fingernail was the only one even close to a fit. Linda brought it down and hovered it right over the tiny form, trying to assess whether or not there was space anywhere around him for her to slip it in. Linda finally gently covered Steve and her belly button with a flattened palm and she retrieved a makeup compact from her purse. Using the mirror within it she checked out Steve's fit. Maybe this had been a terrible idea, maybe she would have to retrieve her plucking tweezers.

 

There was space and it was in an exploitable position, right where she needed it. Linda was well aware of the tiny fingers and toes, the knees and vertebrae. She did not know that there were two hundred and six bones in the human body, but she was somewhat close with her imagining. The fingernail was to be angled slightly away from him, she thought, but not enough to pull her bellybutton into distortion and do harm. Linda slowly worked her nail down next to the tangled, naked body. The tiny form worked free easily and as soon as she could Linda gently surrounded him in enormous fingertips.

 

He was still in an oblong tangle, no longer quite the economical fetal repose. Linda barely brought her fingertips together, realizing for the first time perhaps how clumsily huge she was to them. She tried to not compress his tiny limbs unnaturally and she finally just held her breath and lifted him free. Linda tried to deposit the tiny thing into her palm, but as she opened her digits he was dragged along with her, adhered to her thumb pad. Linda inadvertently played a game of keep-away with the poor, hopelessly sticky thing. He adhered to her fingertip and then to her thumb again, then passed one more time between each of them as his limbs and torso were slowly, randomly worked and endlessly rearranged like a berserk, drunken marionette.

 

She finally scraped him indignantly into her waiting palm across the swelling at the base of her mighty thumb. Linda's enormous blue eye was immediately lowered over him, flicking about, evaluating each tiny piece. He was breathing, thankfully, and none of the giddily diminutive limbs were unnaturally bent. Linda intruded upon the tiny form with her nails, her best and most trusted tools. She deftly caught lilliputian arms and laid them out naturally. She took hold of tiny feet and thighs between her ridiculously overbuilt wide, red tweezers, pulling and straightening them. Still he did not rouse, but he at least looked much more comfortable, lying there like a survivor from a shipwreck.

 

The first order of business was to clean him. Linda slowly made her way to the bathroom and turning on the water, adjusted it to body temperature and eased down the pressure to a thin gossamer stream. She took a single drop from it onto her finger and quickly brought that down to the brazen haired, insensible figure. She touched the droplet to a foot and the globule switched allegiances, clinging the thickly to the tiny sole. She continued this activity, covering his lower body with a gleaming, strange collection of transparent globs.

 

Still no movement.

 

Linda thought about procuring a cotton swab. But, she had spent enough time with their tiny forms to doubt it, thinking that such a thing would almost be similar to a dense bush made of residential electrical wire. Linda discredited each idea as it came up. The best one by far would be authentic silk, frayed into fluff. Linda knew full well that idea was a hell of a lot of work and maybe impossible, especially with an inch long, naked doll resting in one hand. Jesse and Mike could handle her fingertips, even if she pinned them completely beneath one. He was only unconscious, hopefully, she had cleaned Jesse-bug in just the same way. But Jesse could react and fight to preserve herself. But, Steven? He needed clean and she hadn't thought it through well enough, apparently.

 

Linda slowly worked the pad of her little finger over the tiny form as she watched from beyond the edge of her hand. She continued to gather droplets, one by one and plunk them down where she needed them. Soon her vaginal secretions which thickly covered him began to work loose, hydrating into a slick slime. A droplet broke loose from her fingertip as she lowered it and it impacted his shoulder, fragmenting into smaller spheres and most of them clung to his chin and across his face. Linda's face raced downwards until a blue eye was able to take him in clearly. His mouth and nose were both covered, it almost looked to be a gleaming, silvery oxygen mask of liquid.

 

"Shit!"

 

She wiped it away as best she could with the pad of her finger, trying not to destroy his face with a misplaced fingernail. There was a tiny cough and then another. His toes curled and one leg pivoted into better comfort at the hip. A hand raised and it made it's way to his face. He brushed the water from him in an annoyed fashion.

 

"Steven. Steevvenn. It's time to wake up."

 

Linda waited. The signs were promising.

 

She knew he was awake. You would think that a person might suddenly sit up, or come up out of their slumber screaming and swinging, especially if they were Steve. But it was nothing like that at all. He was lucky, but not lucky enough, because Linda was right there observing. He coughed a little bit more, then the breathing changed, Linda knew that. A hand had tried to dig into the flesh of her palm and his legs shifted for a bit. But Linda's huge eye was right there, and she was holding her breath. As she watched, his head rocked back and forth and then there was a jolt which shuddered through him. He stirred a little bit more, but Linda guessed that now he was on the other side of unconsciousness, the side where she, too, resided.

 

It was when the tiny, blue capped head centered on the neck, when it pointed straight up, neutral. The balanced starting place where muscles consciously kept it. Then Linda knew he was awake, but more than that, that he was in the driver's seat finally.

 

"Steven."

 

As Linda watched something happened. There was some change that she had detected, but what was it? Her gut instinct told her it was his face and as she observed him, Linda realized that most likely he had slowly opened his eyes to slits. Something in her had seen it, but the subconscious is shy to speak to anyone.

 

Linda whispered to the tiny form, "Steven? Steven. Do you remember me? I'm that lady you met. You remember, don't you, Steven? The really pretty woman. The one you shared something very special with-no, not her, Steven. I said woman, didn't I? She's just a girl, besides, you two were just secret fuck-buddies. She was just your main hook up. I'm not sure that I would phrase what we did and what we are to each other in such vulgar terms. I'm a good girl, Steven. I don't like to talk like that."

 

His tiny chest was moving faster now. The tiny body looked tense, but Linda couldn't tell. Compared to him, she was made out of something more like dense, pliable stone. She knew he was awake, and listening, probably staring. Linda would turn a screw on him.

 

"Well, I guess my Romeo is still out cold. My… treasure… must have worn him out."

 

Linda ran the pad of her little finger down his tiny body. She giggled to herself.

 

"I should clean him up more. It is five thousand dollars after all. Will he even notice? Mike is just going to kill him anyways. All of him will be just a juicy stain under Mike's foot. Fuck him. He's not going to care. But I can have some fun first."

 

Linda slid open a drawer in the counter and fished around for a moment, placing several things onto the counter in front of her. Then, Linda bullied the delicate young man's body with her thumb and index finger until she could grasp him between them. She slowly lowered him to the counter top and gracefully laid him down, ever so careful of the tiny skull. The last foot or so until Steven was free was very slowly covered. It was difficult to not crack his tiny head against the marble surface because of the length of her nails. Linda idly wondered if she could actually walk around with one pinched between her fingernails or if it would irreversibly harm them. It would be so much easier that way. Linda was not about to trim her nails, though the tandem-snowmobile-sized instrument next to Steven made it look that way.

 

Steven did not move after Linda released him. She wondered for a moment if she was wrong, if he was still unconscious. He lay face down and his limbs were twisted in different, awkward directions.

 

Linda picked up the cigarette lighter and the nail file. She struck the knurled wheel until the fat flame sprang forth. She pass the end of the nail file through it until she could smell it slightly. Linda set it down, the hot, gently pointed end sticking out over the sink. Linda took up the nail clippers and swiveled the lever into place. She squeezed the stainless steel handles of it and watched as the straight, bluntly ground bevels gnashed together.

 

Was he awake? Or would Linda finish washing him up and place him in the tiny box without having fun?

 

"Okay, you little bug. I just want a trinket, a keepsake. How often do I steal an experiment from the lab and have so much fun? I will have to be quick to cauterize the wound. But you're just a bug. I wonder what you did to piss off your friend so much?"

 

Linda carefully pinched, the enormous arched nails gently enclosed most of Steven's left leg between their thick tips. She lifted it up and the rest of his form gave chase limply, sliding and mounding underneath her powerful fingers.

 

"That looks good. I think I'll take off your foot. Your lucky little foot."

 

Linda lowered the nail clippers and brought them in line with the almost undetectable ankle.

 

Steven let out a terrible scream and he was thrashing, tiny clawed hands scraping thin, invisible trackways through the dried soap film on the marble beneath him. Very far above him the golden tyrant was laughing.

 

She put down the nail clippers and lowered herself to her knees. He was a pitiful sight, a full quarter of his body held fast in such a laughably stupid way. Linda released the toothpick before she broke it or he wrenched it from the socket. He scrambled quite swiftly across the counter.

 

Steve could not escape her. A tremor rippled through the marble surface beneath him and he was thrown to the cold floor. The impossibly large face had come even closer, lowering down and becoming the sky overhead. Long, platinum blonde locks of hair tumbled and slid, completely obscuring the far edge of this surface. Her bright blue eyes followed him as he ran, both enormous hands were held poised in the air overhead. The elegant fingers, the size of huge trees slammed down one at a time right where he had just been. This frightened Steve to no end, these were gentle, slow presses, perhaps like a hesitant selection on a smart phone's screen. But to Steve each enormous descending fingertip was like a thunderbolt. There was no shelter, no way to get free from beneath the impossible hands and face. There was no escape. The fantastically colossal beauty was going to squish him like a bug. This was just a simple game to her and he knew she would soon grow bored with his pitiful evasions.

 

Linda made a little game of it for a bit, lightly dabbing the tips of her fingers to the spot he had just left. She leaned in until her breasts pressed against the cabinetry of the sink's home. Then she herded him with her fingers, touching him with her impromptu red prods to cause a sudden change in his direction. As soon as he started to breathe heavily she pounced, stifling and then plucking him skyward.

 

"I enjoyed that! Oh, Steven! Really, I wouldn't cut off your tiny little foot and keep it! I am not that kind of a monster. You know what I want, Steven. I want all of you! You're just… so dreamy! For shame, Steven. Do you really think I can conceive of such a thing in my little head? It's full of dreams about ponies, and new dance music and brownie recipes! Goodness gracious. You can be so dark sometimes. I'll never understand men. You're all so... you're all just men! Always so rugged and gruff. Taking what you want. You have to be gentle with me, Steven. It's a man's world, after all. I'd be lost without you! Goodness! Now, let's finish getting you cleaned up for the party. Everyone will be there, I'm told. I can't wait! Remember to look for the camera after I help you with your tie."

 

Linda's mind needed a break. She was done with her games for now, with Steven at least. She did not waste any time and got right to it, cleaning him a little bit too thoroughly. But the deposits from her pussy were quite stubborn. She decided in the future, if possible, to clean them soon after playing with them inside of her. Like that would ever happen.

 

When Steven's state of cleanliness met her rigorous approval, Linda lifted him to her face.

 

"I have been longing for this, Steven. I've waited all day. You are just… so good to me! I hope our children will be tall and strong… just like you. But, I admit it, I hope they look like me. You're kind of funny looking."

 

Steve was pressed against the colossal, full lips. Linda looked in the mirror and gently trapped him down to his waist within her monumental pucker. She withdrew her hand and watched as he kicked. She could hear a tiny panicked scream, muffled thoroughly by the all encompassing walls of rounded, naturally pink and pillowed skin. She wanted to hum but was concerned what that might do to him. Such delicate bones in the skull and those intricate, delicate inner ears. She might just burst his tiny eyeballs as well. More experimenting was needed to understand their limits. She extracted the tiny troublemaker and beamed at his tiny, trapped face. Linda might just start keeping a journal.

 

Linda carefully opened the tiny box. Jesse began shrieking immediately as the massive hand lowered. She was nudged by a mammoth pinky fingernail roughly into a corner before Steve was unceremoniously dumped by the thumb and index finger.

 

"Oh, there's that ugly, old nail tool. I was wondering where I put you. Now, say goodbye to your friend. But, no sex. Do you understand me?" The fearsome index finger lingered, pointing at Jesse, "You had better! If I suspect anything funny I'll examine both of you really well. No, Jesse, that is not a promise. I am not going to just fondle you whenever you want, on your terms." Despite huddling downwards into a tiny crying pile, the fingertip dropped onto Jesse. She had the air pressed out of her body as it's nail dented the box's floor just behind her painfully folded form. "Why don't you try being nice to me? Hmm?" The gigantic finger lifted and rolled, Jesse's tiny gasping form stuck to the pad of it. Linda's pretty face was the distant golden peak of her towering upper body. She was smirking as she looked over the dishevelled bug. "Other people do that. They do it all the time. It's about trust, Jesse." Linda's elegant thumb pressed against the tiny woman for a moment before her fingertips lowered close to the box's floor. With a sweep of her massive thumbtip, Linda discarded Jesse next to Steve like a bit of trash.

 

The box was then shut. Jesse and Steve clung to each other like it was the end of the world. Around them deafening noises and frightful, quaking thumps shook their little room. What was Mike going to be like? They had never betrayed this woman, had never even spoken to her before this terrible afternoon. But, Mike, that was another thing entirely.

 

They clung to each other, and their tears just would not end. Terrible noises deafened them, crunching, explosive reports mingled with what sounded like muffled glaciers complaining, dying. Their tiny ears popped multiple times as the air pressure in their enclosure raced from compression to expansion, seemingly randomly, but it was always as the box shifted underneath of them and groaned overhead.

 

They were both shaking, both reacting. Jesse shook and sobbed, violently tensing as she would bruise Steve's ribs with her clinging. Steve shivered, but at most he would just spasm for a moment as a muffled sound's volume would suddenly overwhelm the baffling of the cardboard walls and come in on them in deafening clarity.

 

Two minutes later the terrible sounds ceased. Above them there was suddenly sharp impacts which shook the box, then sound of a dense, thick vibration, squeals of friction accompanied it. Jesse immediately knew what was, the monster's awful and unstoppable fingers running across the lid.

 

"What happened to us, Jesse?"

 

"It's Mike's mom! She-"

 

"What? I don't under-"

 

"It's his mother! That's Mike's mother! She... came over... and shrank us! She shrank us!"

 

Steve started to hyperventilate.

 

"Oh God. Oh God. Oh-"

 

"Listen to me! Mike knows! Mike is going to kill you! He sent her over to get us! She's going to… She's going to keep me for herself! But… But, Mike is going to kill you! He's going to kill you! Oh God, Steve, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry for everything! We never should have. We just never should have!"

 

Linda wrapped the tiny box. She moved carefully and slowly and tried not to nudge it at all. When she was finished she squatted in front of it and brought her mouth close to it. Linda liked the roles they had ended up with from her playful, barbed improvisations. She might even stick to those roles for a while.

 

Something huge tapped on the top of the box. Her voice was everywhere, it was her normal speaking voice, but she was very close. They could feel her words reverberating through the cardboard's composition as a buzzing, racing oscillation. They were almost deafened and their skin was tickled and numbed where it touched the box's structure.

 

"I wonder what is in this one? Would it be wrong of me to shake it? Hmm. It's so tiny. Maybe what's inside is fragile? I don't want to ruin anything. You don't want to ruin anything, either, do you, Steven? Be a gentleman, Steven, for me. Jesse is going to help me from now on. I decided to take on her services. Well, she begged me, she was very persuasive. Jesse is help now. I shouldn't have to remind you, but I know how bighearted you can be. It isn't right to mingle with the help, Steven. Especially not her. You don't really want to know where she's been, Steven, it's distasteful. Now, I'll go find Mike and see if he is ready."

 

It was bizarre to eat from a piece of bread almost as large as yourself. It looked like an impossible meteorite and Mike had difficulty tearing hunks of it away. Soon he could hear and feel his mother's approach. A chair was slid away from the table, sounding quite a bit more like jet aircraft than wooden legs sliding on linoleum.

 

The ring box rocked as dense weight landed against it. A moment later the lid was thrown back. For a moment all Mike could see was the pad of a thumb tip and the overhang of a long nail. He was reminded immediately of his suffering beneath her big toe. The thumb rotated away and Mike was greeted with the grand vista of Linda's smiling face.

 

"Aw, mommie's little man! I hope your snack was good. I bet you're thirsty again aren't you? It was just bread, after all. Not the best meal. But mommy was busy taking care of some… little things. Let's go get you a drink."

 

Something was definitely going on, but Mike didn't really have time to study her. Pretty fingertips almost completely filled the ring box as they lowered around him and Mike found himself gently immobilized in their soapy smelling embrace. His stomach turned as he rocketed through the air and then she gently laid him into her palm. She walked softly over to the sink and as she adjusted the faucet she was smiling, looking down upon him. There was something in her eyes, Mike's heart sank as he recognized that familiar gleam, the same one which had heralded his reduction in status and size to her plaything.

 

"I went out today, Mike. While you were recuperating. I decided on my birthday present. You know, the present you didn't get me? I thought about what you might want me to have. But, I didn't end up going shopping, Mike. I didn't think that you would want to owe any more money to me. That was the right decision, wasn't it? Mommy wants you to do things for her because you want to. Or because I ask you to. Here, straight from the tap. You should drink it while it's still cold. If it still is it all."

 

An enormous finger rose up from beyond Mike's huge perch. The thick column pressed against the edge of the palm, causing a swollen deformation where it docked. The finger curled downwards until the tip of it hung over him. A single drop of water clung in the middle of the fingerprint. Mike gave the huge pretty face an irritated look before steadying himself against the digit and stretching up to break the surface tension with his tongue.

 

"I found your phone, Mike."

 

He sputtered and pulled away from the fingertip.

 

"Why don't you just lie down right there and I'll bring your drink to you. It might be best. Lie down."

 

He lay down on the warm, textured skin and drank from the lowered, hovering monstrosity. She smiled at him in a strange way.

 

"There was some really interesting stuff in your phone. I didn't know you had so many new friends! I didn't even have to ask you for a password. Isn't that funny? Some app had been keeping it awake. Well, you can't have your phone back, Mike. That app, the one that kept it unlocked? It had a nice, easy to see yellow marker. I realized that it marked your apartment. So, while I was in town, I dropped your phone off there. Your car, too, Mike, I drove it over and left it. My, you were thirsty. Do you want some more water? It's really no trouble for me."

 

Mike shook his head slowly no. He was staring into the huge face which hung a good distance away. He wasn't going to get away from her. She wasn't going to let him, and she was telling him that, right now. The huge, amused blue eyes bored through him. Mike's mother didn't need to even touch him to completely dominate. She didn't even need to speak, really, but she was. She was good at speaking, good at persuasion, at manipulating and dominating others, tricking them. There was a good reason she had been a lawyer.

 

The immense, gorgeous head tilted playfully and a little smile crossed her full mouth. She looked down past him as her finger grazed the stream of water again.

 

"I can get you another car, Mike. Something a little bit more appropriate for you. A nice, expensive toy car. If you want, I'll get a whole handful of them."

 

It wasn't enough that he was in the palm of her hand, or even that he drank water from her finger like some tiny, rehabilitated baby animal. Or that he had to look at her, something which still threatened to send him into a gibbering, anxiety whipped panic if he did not suppress it decisively. She had to gently capture and monstrously squeeze his psyche. Why didn't Mike ever realize that his mother was gigantic before now, before he had shown up for a weekend-long visit and she had so eloquently revealed her true form with that bottle of perfume?

 

But he had. He had seen her enormous shadow long ago, and in hindsight now, he realized he had perceived her with a frightening, perfect clarity

 

The fingertip touched down next to him. Droplets of water clung to the fingernail. Several of them raced together and joined forces into something worthy of gravity. The huge droplet rolled down the smooth red surface until it encountered the edge of the nail. It transferred itself completely to the thick edge and it stuck out, a beautiful and swirling, defiant globe.

 

"You should drink some more! You need to keep your strength up, Mike."

 

Mike turned away from gazing at the proud water droplet. She smiled and shook her head encouragingly. Mike wandered over and began to fill the rest of his stomach.

 

"While I was at your apartment felt a little bit sorry for you. You're so tiny now, Mike. I thought about what you've done to make amends so far. Fifty dollars is a lot for such a tiny boy to pay back. How could you ever give me a birthday present now? I thought about what you might be able to afford now. Pebbles you fished out of the carpet? A tiny ball of cobwebs, found here and there underneath furniture? An armload of twigs gathered from the welcome mat?"

 

Mike was finished with his long drink. He had turned to face his mother as she spoke. Behind him the beautiful fingertip raised and folded tightly while a mighty thumb dabbed away the water droplets from the nail's surface. Her vast face was too controlled. She should be smiling at her mockery of his size.

 

"I love you Mike, but just look at me. Do I look the kind of woman who needs some twigs? Do I look like I want pebbles? I have diamonds, Mikey. I didn't want you to make me angry with your embarrassing country mouse gifts. I'm your mother, after all. I have to look out for you, gently correct your mistakes, like any good parent. But being there in your apartment made me realize what would be an excellent birthday present from you. It would be from you, Mike. Really. Your phone led me there, so technically, it's from you. I would not have been able to find it otherwise. So, I picked up my birthday present. Presents? I guess it's how you look at it. It's really a set of them, I guess. A matched pair. Very nice."

 

She was lowering him to the table. What did his mother find there? Did she go through his computer? Did she copy of all of his porn, normal, or otherwise? Did she drain his bank account? A matched pair? An image of his tiny form being caressed while screaming beneath a beautiful and monumental big toe, pressed into his very own greasy funk, trapped and perhaps raped in the tip of one of his own running shoes. She would do that, he knew that much.

 

The feminine fingertips gently laid Mike down inside of the ring box, but the pad of the index fingertip lingered for a moment, hovering over him.

 

"Let me go get my present, Mike. I'm so excited to show you! You should be excited, too! I bet you can't wait. Give mommy a kiss. Show me that you're happy for me."

 

The silvery gold cumulus cloud was grinning down at Mike. The gleam in her eyes was back. He stared for too long and she nudged him gently. Mike pressed his lips against the hot flesh conveniently presented to him. He didn't notice the denigration or the taste, Mike was too busy analyzing the unpredictable, mischievously shining face.

 

"Come on, Steve! Please, Steve! Please, please, please!"

 

Jesse was on top of him, straddling his hips and grinding into him. She wouldn't let it go, she wouldn't stop, no matter how he tried to convince her. All Steve could see, phantom-like in the darkness around them was the enormous pussy. Jesse's sweaty body pressed wetly on top of him, then as she would peel stickily away it caused him to try and recoil more than once. There were phantom walls, glistening pink and dreadfully soft around him in this darkness. There was an overwhelming heat cruelly pouring from them into his tiny form. Jesse's droplets of sweat fell onto him and he trembled, recollecting how he had struggled, adhered pitifully to the titanic anatomy. A single drop of liquid had fallen from a golden hair far above him, colliding with him, almost knocking him senseless with it's velocity and weight. It was like a cruel water balloon, gallon-sized and filled with an impossibly thick and sticky perspiration, or something else. Steve had almost drowned within it's splattering shrapnel before he had thrown it off of him. He had cleared his nostrils with a painful, retching exhale.

 

"One last time, Steve. One last time, Steve! Oh, come on, please…"

 

Jesse was grinding her own nearly duplicate anatomy into his flaccid cock, but Jesse's was not laid out all around him like some Gaudi inspired cavern. Her pussy was not the size of the largest of enormous old world pipe organs, ensconced between bare tan walls of feminine flesh. But they were both beautiful, both hungry and selfish, both tangibly muggy.

 

Jesse wanted to devour him. She was trying to desperately, right now, if she could only make the same magic happen with her chanting, her insistent pleading. She too wished to make him tiny and perversely nuzzle his helpless form up into her. Jesse was desperate to keep up with Linda. They were rivals now, fighting over him, each seeking to plunge him…

 

"Get off me! I won't let you, I won't let you! You won't make me tiny and put me inside of you!" Steve screamed, pushing Jesse off of him with an adrenaline-fueled lunge of both arms planted into her soft stomach.

 

Jesse was somewhere in the darkness, he could hear her weeping as he hunched in a crouch, wiping her fluids from him maniacally.

 

"I don't want to be any smaller! You stupid bitch! If Mike's mother finds me like that…"

 

Steve shuddered, the image of begging the enormous gray-flecked blue eye, gnat-sized, stuck to the gleaming, crimson fingernail. Still mite-sized, Steve imagined himself gurgling in the ropey slime of the quarry-sized pussy. The velvety, pink landscape overstuffing him with aroused, throbbing body heat. Far above him, the enormous thumb anchoring the painful sliver of light, the taut triangle of waistband. The narrow crack of streaming light revealing the almost endless vertical female landscape above him, crowned by the unconcerned and laughing golden head.

 

Slowly Steve realized how stupid he had been. What was wrong with him? Jesse was only... He was going to die very soon now. They both knew it. He crawled on hands and knees towards the sounds of pitiful weeping.

 

"Jesse, I'm sorry."

 

Everything throbbed beneath them both, it didn't stop. It grew more insistent, but there was no sound accompanying it. The beautiful colossus's footsteps on silencing carpet. Impacts landed around them, even with them, the air pressure shot up as the walls bowed inwards as she gripped the little box.

 

Steve held Jesse tightly to him as he buried his face into her neck, his heart began to knock loudly in his chest.

 

It wasn't long until Mike could hear her coming back. She had left the lid of the ring box thrown back. He had considered trying to climb out, but he knew that he was on the kitchen table. What would he do? Hide behind the salt shaker? Plummet to his death? It was hopeless. There she was, accompanied by thunder as she quickly turned from the mother he could identify easily into a moving, breathing mountain.

 

Linda held something small protectively in her hands. Mike recognized the wrapping paper, she had used it many times before. The enormous box lowered overhead.

 

"See, Mikey? It's all wrapped up! Let me just put this in the living room. It's much more comfortable in there, don't you think?"

 

She was gone for just a moment and then she walked past him, waving one enormous hand down at him with a flash of red as she passed.

 

"I think I want some alcohol! Just hang tight, Mikey, I have to get this bottle open. Ooh! The electric wine opener you gave me last year? Remember? You are such a good gift giver. I don't know why you don't do that more often for me."

 

Mike could do nothing but wait as she finished her task.

 

"I think you're going to like this, Mikey. I really do! Ah, I think I'll use one of the nice glasses! Okay, let me go set these down in there."

 

Linda was back and Mike was moved carefully to the living room. She set his box down and freed him. She did the unexpected and gently laid him down on the coffee table. Her monstrous hand retreated and she poured herself a bit of wine.

 

"Well, aren't you curious? Go ahead! You can pick it up and shake it if you want."

 

She winked at him. Mike was gently herded by a pretty fingertip towards the gift box as she took a sip. His mother's enormous knees towered over the coffee table. The finger retreated up into the sky and slipped a shining cascade of hair behind an enormous ear. Mike made his way to the garishly covered box, Linda's blue eyes laughing as she observed from the sky overhead. Mike was overwhelmingly aware he was still well within her grasp, she was only a second away no matter where he wandered.

 

Mike walked around the enormous object, he stared at the strips of cellophane tape pressed over the neatly creased folds of the wrapper. They were about half his height in their width and they were embellished with his mother's oily fingerprints.

 

Mike caught a hint of a sound. It was perhaps one of the few neighbors out here, on his mother's lonely stretch of country road. Arguing? No. As he walked back around to where his enormous mother sat gleaming he could hear it better for a moment. Moaning. One of her neighbors was having sex loud enough that even tiny Mike could catch wind of the sound that must be floating across his mother's province-sized lawn.

 

"What do you think, Mikey? The only thing you didn't get me was a card. That's too bad. It's very thoughtless of you. But, mommy forgives you. I know you've had your hands full recently. What do you think it is, Mike? Any ideas? Well, I'll tell you what it isn't. It isn't yours anymore. It's mine now. Just like you. Well, maybe not just like you. You've always been mine, I've always claimed you. However, now, I'm just making a… bigger claim on you. That's all."

 

The goddess giggled and she finished off her glass of wine in one gulp, her eyes fixed past Mike on the little box. She sighed enormously and lowered the building sized wine flute to the coffee table.

 

"I think I'll do things a little bit differently this year."

 

She towered up into the air as she stood. Mike's hair stood on end as he watched the impossible form move gracefully away as she sent jolts through the entire coffee table he stood upon. Linda thundered around the side of the coffee table and went to the drapes. She shut them quickly and turned back around with a smile on her face.

 

"I want to be in my birthday suit to open your thoughtful birthday present, Mikey. It somehow seems… appropriate."

 

Mike couldn't help but watch as his his mother stripped down. Her eyes were locked on the enormous, flat box next to him. Something was wrong. Mike could feel it in his gut. Something beyond his conscious mind, a very important but silent monitor was screaming at him. Mike couldn't understand the message, but he knew something was off. So instead of trying to listen to himself he stared at the titaness, trying to glean anything obvious.

 

Linda tore her eyes away and gazed upon him for a moment. She ran her hands over her breasts as she stood there, smiling at him. But it didn't last. Mike watched as she gently took her hard nipples between her fingers and give them a light squeeze. He was aware of his painfully engorged cock. Then, Linda's gaze faltered, Mike could see it wander back to the box. A hungry, easy smile crossed her face and then she was thundering towards him, her bright eyes tracking her gift as they absolutely blazed.

 

Mike watched as she gracefully folded herself down onto the couch again. He was having problems with his attention's priorities. He tried to look back into her face. But, this was the same problem Mike had as a teenager whenever Linda's perfect feet were exposed. This time though, it was her breasts, the beautifully soft and toned length of belly, the sunny entanglement of forest placidly clinging between her endless legs. Mike thought he should find it strange that he could not look away, elsewhere. But his mother was over four-hundred feet tall compared to him, and incandescently nude.

 

Linda tore her eyes away from the box again and glanced down at him, giving him a little smile. She poured another glass of wine for herself as she glanced up at the box again. She took a sip and her eyes locked onto his tiny form.

 

"Do you know what I think, Mike? I think you need closure. I think that with everything that's happened recently between us perhaps I've been a bit cruel to you. I understand why you wanted to avoid me after you left. Those drawings you left in the attic said it all. I know. You felt guilty. But, you also couldn't ever stop yourself. But, sweetie…"

 

Linda savored a sip and her eyes fell upon the box again.

 

"You were too desperate to make a break between us. It happens all the time. You fell in with the wrong people, Mike. Made some bad decisions. I can't entirely blame you for that. Did I really expect for my little boy to stay here? Tormented with visions of his mother's beautiful feet doing… delightful and forbidden things to him?"

 

Linda's arm covered the distance to the box in an instant. A fingertip stroked across the top of it.

 

"You are never going back there, Mike. You are never going to get away from me. Do you know why? Because there is nothing left for you there."

 

Linda gently picked up her gift and brought slowly it to her face.

 

"Oh, that's enough darkness, isn't it? You already know how possessive mommy can be, don't you? Now, let's see what I picked up on my little adventure. But, Mikey, I think you should sing the song, don't you?"

 

Linda lowered the box to the table in front of her and paused expectantly as she stared at him. A huge fingertip tapped the tabletop loudly.

 

"Come over here, please."

 

Mike made the trek to where her finger was planted. As he approached she smiled sweetly overhead and removed it.

 

"Sing. I want to hear you sing it to me."

 

Mike cleared his throat, his tiny cock standing proudly away from him.

 

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…"

 

The smooth, tanned mountain smiled sweetly down on him as the tiny tune reached her enormous ears. A tremendous hand fanned open and took up the wine glass. As he sang to her she took a sip and swished back and forth. She set the wine glass back down and a red nail tore through the wrapping paper on top of the box. Linda hesitated and her enormous fingertips rubbed together wistfully as they floated, poised to drop again into the wrapping paper's wound. Instead Linda pressed the palm of her hand between her legs for a moment and Mike watched her enormous body shudder. Then the hand released and dove onto the top of the box. Mike was deafened by the sound of the paper being ripped and he stumbled backwards away from her activity as the freed wrapping paper crashed down like the façade of a building being torn away and discarded.

 

The box was bared and Mike had retreated a safe distance from the ragged flower of wrapping paper that radiated from beneath it. His mother gave him an over accentuated look of excitement, the kind reserved for babies while playing peekaboo.

 

"When you think it is, Mikey? Why don't you plug your ears and let mommy clear off this wrapping paper? Ready? Three, two, one."

 

The box was lifted and the wrapping paper was wadded with sharp, terrible noises into a little ball. Linda lowered the box again and beamed at Mike.

 

"All better now. That should be enough space. Whatever it is, I know I'll love it because it's from you, Mikey. So exciting! Okay, here I go!"

 

Linda lifted the lid free and set it aside, her face focused intently on what was in the box. She gasped in mock surprise, a hand pressed to her lips and she smiled sweetly sidelong at Mike's unsure form.

 

"Oh, Mikey! They're beautiful! How did you know?"

 

Linda lowered one hand gracefully over the gift box and daintily extended a finger, it sought something beyond Mike's vision, hidden by the white cardboard walls. Mike heard a piercing, shrill scream, a child or a female. A person! A tiny person! Linda's finger was exploring and as it did the screams continued. But they were joined with another one, deeper and growling, it was threatening Linda.

 

"I liked the pictures on your phone, Mike. It was nice to at least see you had done things while you were ignoring me. Is that a funny way to look at it? I was so disappointed when you would not return my calls. When you didn't show up to help me. I imagined, for some reason, that you were at home in your little apartment, thinking about me and being smug. Being smug right when I was angry at you. But I couldn't imagine you doing anything other than that. Strange how the mind works. What could have possibly been so important that my son chose it over a long drive and menial tasks for his lonely, beautiful mother? But now I know."

 

Linda's thumb pivoted down into the box to join her index finger there. The gruff, male voice grew desperate and was pleading. Mike watched as his mother captured something tiny in a careful pinch between the beautiful, adeptly cooperative fingers. There were tiny groans. Linda sighed and as a female voice started to plead her enormous head turned and appraised Mike.

 

"I didn't show up yesterday at your apartment to drop off your phone and your car. I figured out what that app was actually for, Mikey. I figured out who you were spying on. I even watched the video of you proposing to her."

 

Mike realized that his mother was smiling down into the box.

 

"She is very beautiful," Linda's eyes darted to him and back again to whomever was pleading up at her from within the tiny box, "isn't she Mike?"

 

His stomach began to churn and his legs felt weak. No? There was no way, she wouldn't have…

 

Linda raised her hand up from the box. Something, no, someone was hidden from Mike in the dainty pinch her fingers. Linda's left hand invaded the gift box and Mike heard terrible, hoarse cries as his colossal mother casually trapped and captured the other occupant. The tremendous woman raised the hand slowly from the tiny box and she smiled. Linda slouched forward onto her elbows, both her hands held in delicate pinches in front of her face. Linda rested her chin onto the heel of one of the hands and watched her tiny son right himself from the tremor of her elbows touching down onto the coffee table.

 

"Do you remember, Mike, when your bank account was hacked? When was that? There were timestamps on every image and movie you shot on your phone. It was about two weeks before you proposed to the beautiful girl, right? You replied to my text and told me about your account. Your bank covered the sum, I'll wager. But didn't you ever wonder where that money ended up? I have a theory. Do you know what I did, Mikey? Your roommate and your fiancé both have their own personal webpages. You knew that, of course? Why weren't you curious? Why didn't you dig? It's because your generation has lost two important concepts, you've given them up, Mikey: privacy and curiosity. Why didn't you research her a bit? I guess it's because you aren't cynical yet. You haven't been hurt enough to protect yourself out of habit."

 

Linda raised her face and brought the pinched fingers of her left hand close to her lips.

 

"Shhh. My son and I are talking."

 

Linda pursed her lips and gently blew across her pinched fingertips. The distant tiny voice squealed in terror before it was abruptly cut off by a pulse of pressure through the thick digits.

 

"There were pictures, Mikey. Allll the way back at the beginning of Jesse's web-page. I almost didn't recognize Steve. What, without the funny haircut and blue hair dye, he sort of looked like a skinny waiter, or someone who might be a bicycle courier. Didn't you know that they were a couple? Didn't you know that they were high school sweethearts? Didn't you know that Jesse turned down a really good college to come here and be with Steve? Couldn't you pick up on something strange in the room when she came over and he was there?"

 

Mike's mother looked gently exasperated with him.

 

"I guess I can't blame you, Mike. You're young and naïve. But I wanted to know my potential birthday presents."

 

Mike dropped to his knees. Linda paused for a second as she took it in and her mouth genuinely pouted. The real expression was so much more subtle than it's farcical doppelganger.

 

"What if one of them had a powerful relative? I'm cynical, Mikey. I was a lawyer. Imagine my delight when I could almost plot their family trees and know confidently what and where they had eaten for lunch nearly any day I picked? All volunteered by themselves. But, unless you erase all of that information… These two were faithful chroniclers. You know, Mikey, mommy can be very persuasive. I wonder…"

 

Linda raised her right hand to her eyes and stared at the all-but-invisible prisoner she held.

 

"My big strong Steven. Is my silly little head just full of yarn projects and pink? You tell me, Steven. Tell your favorite sweetie-pie. It's just me, honey, your happy and faithful little Linda."

 

Mike could hear strained words, but she was holding him so high up in the air.

 

"The money? Did you take his money too?"

 

Mike's mother listened intently, her blue eyes almost crossed as she frowned at the tiny young man.

 

"Well, I think you should tell Mike yourself, don't you Steve?"

 

The enormous hand lowered and the air it displaced ruffled Mike's hair. Soon he could hear Steve as the fingertips swept slowly towards him.

 

"...didn't mean to hurt you, honestly Mike! Please! Please spare me! Jesse really liked you, Mike, she thought you were hot! But I knew you wouldn't sleep with my girlfriend even if I asked you for her. We just got carried away, bro, that's all! Look, Jesse took the routing number for your bank…"

 

Steve was pressed tightly between the enormous flesh. He suddenly realized that Mike was in fact in front of him. They locked eyes and Steve began to laugh loudly. His laughter was almost maniacal.

 

"You got shrank by your own mother! You got shrank by your own fucking hot fucking psycho bitch of a mother! Ah, bro! You've gotta help me out here! Don't let her…"

 

Steve's words were lost to Mike as the hand rose upwards. Linda deposited him into the gift box gently. Mike could hear him laughing. The titaness pursed her lips, lost in thought for a moment as she looked down at her son. She brought her remaining prisoner to her eyes and spoke as she tickled some piece of Jesse which was exposed with a finger from her free hand. Linda ignored the tiny screams, just a whisper of white noise that was overpowered by her own voice.

 

"These are my toys now, Mike. Don't look so sad. She didn't love you, Mike. You didn't lose her, not to Steve, not even to me. You never had her, Mike! Maybe she would have married you, what do you think? How long could that of lasted? How terrible would it have been to end it? How bad would it have been?"

 

Linda sighed as she continued to torment Jesse. Mike was crying and he wrapped his arms around his knees, squatting there in the middle of his mother's coffee table. Mike felt the air churn as it was pushed down over him from above. Vast pinched fingertips were suddenly in front of him. Jesse's head was visible between the curving red nails, thrust out from the crevice of fingertips. Her beautiful face was red and she was covered in sweat and tears. A single leg kicked weakly from behind the vice of flesh and a tiny arm reached out to him. A look of genuine pity and shock overran her own concerns as Jesse focused on Mike.

 

"Oh no! Oh, no, Mike! What did she do to you? I'm sorry, Mike. I'm so sorry! I'm sorry for everything! Please forgive me! Please Mike! Please, you have to talk to her! She's your mother, isn't she? Even though she… You have to help me! Mike! Please help me!"

 

The fingertips were gone, as abruptly as they had landed. Jesse was screaming to him, but the sheer distance to Linda's face caused it to grow thin and lost to him. It didn't matter. She just wanted to be saved, that was all.

 

"She's mine now, Mike. She's mommy's."

 

Mike watched as his mother softly kissed the tiny exposed parts sticking past her fingertips. Linda smiled and then released the tiny girl into the gift box. Her finger stabbed the bottom of the box, jolting the surface beneath Mike's body.

 

"You tried to hurt my son, both of you. How are you going to make it up to me? Hmm? Well, I'll tell you how. When he gets tired, when I've worn him out it's your turn. You will take his place, so that Mike can rest. You'll test things to make sure they are safe for him. You keep me happy in ways that aren't safe for him. You get all of the kinky, all of the nasty, you get all of me. Mike is my pet. You are my toys. Believe me, those are not the same terms, those words mean very different things. Don't they, Mikey?"

 

Linda turned to Mike and softened. She touched him carefully on the arm with the tip of a nail.

 

"That sounds fair, doesn't it? That way my favorite tiny has a long and maybe a good life? I think it's fair. I know, sweetie. I know you hurt. I know you miss being big. I'm going to have some more wine and celebrate my birthday with you. I'll even let you watch if you want while I play with them, Mikey. You just let me know if there's something special I can do for you, okay? I'd like that. Let me put a smile on your face for once."

 

Linda savored the wine and after she poured herself another glass she placed her feet up onto the coffee table. She wiggled her beautiful toes as she laughed. She slid one hand between her legs and pet the ache. Linda raised the box in her other hand and brought it close to her mouth. She tilted it slightly, Steve and Jesse slid screaming into the wall the enormous lips hung over.

 

"I have an idea. You guys sure like to fuck, don't you? Well, I have a special suite in mind for you. I haven't decided on a name yet. The staff and I will be putting it to a vote soon. Do you like the idea of the 'Linda Suite' or do you like the 'Wine Suite'? It's sure a toss-up, isn't it? I like both names equally."

 

She pinched them up, one in each set of fingers. She held the tiny, trembling forms in front of her huge eyes.

 

"Fuck each other. Fuck in my mouth. Or see what happens if you don't. Seems like another toss-up to me. I am riveted! As I wait to feel teensy Jesse get riveted."

 

After she was finished depositing them onto her tongue, Linda gathered up the sad little boy. She ran him over each one of her toes slowly as she made strange faces, reacting to what was happening in her mouth. Linda was just beginning to enjoy herself.

 

The end