"That smells delicious, sugar pot. And so do you." Wilfred spoke with a doting voice and planted a kiss on his wife's cheek before he went to the fridge to grab an ice-cold beer.

Emma merely turned the roast in the sizzling pan while hardly acknowledging Wilfred's arrival in the kitchen─let alone, show any form of a non-verbal sign that she had heard his compliment.

"You're home early. For once." Emma said curtly.

"Yeah, well, Earl unchained me from further duties for the day. Lucky me." As he sipped his beer, Wilfred's eyes wandered off to his 18-year-old stepdaughter sitting on the couch in the living room. He tried to make eye-contact with her, a thing he often attempted despite that she always gave him the cold shoulder. "Seems like he had some other… pressing matters," Wilfred said while leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed.

"Erica?" Emma looked up as she took note of the slight tone of envy in his tone.

Wilfred frowned, tearing his gaze away from his stepdaughter to look at his wife, "No, not Erica! For godsakes, Emma! You're still not over that? For the millionth time, nothing happened between us, okay?"

"I know, I know."

"Do you?"

"I was just guessing, that's all," Emma said meekly as she continued cooking again.

"I did always found you bunch a lovely throuple together," she added as a final chord.

Wilfred snorted, "Says the woman who chose to have a roll in the hay with me while her ex-husband was waiting in vain with a homemade diner."

"He was serving oysters!"

"You love oysters!"

"Only if they are raw," Emma said.

"How did you know they weren't then?" Wilfred eyed her.

Emma shrugged, "I didn't"

Wilfred chuckled, "Yet you still came to me because?..."

"For a reason I still regret to this very day!"

Wilfred laughed, "Love you too, darling." he winked.

His gaze found Celeste again, his stepdaughter─slumped on the couch like a potato bag as she was all tied up on her phone. She still refused to give him the time of day, even though she must have heard him talking to her mother.

He could not precisely put his finger on it, but for some reason, Celeste was looking extraordinarily hot today. It wasn't her clothing that induced this effect. These were pretty mundane, actually. Still sexy though─as those cut-off denim shorts accentuated her shapely thighs─but nothing sexually provocative like Wilfred was used to seeing with Celeste. Perhaps it had something to do with her posture as she was sitting there like nothing in the world could harm her. Then he noticed them—a fresh pair of glamorous looking high heeled boots.

God! How could I miss those!

They were brazenly stationed on the coffee table, crossed over each other.

Immediately─like, the sight of this activated some lever in his head─ Wilfred saw lively images of a microscopic city dotted on the table near her boot, with millions of barely visible people showing praise to their Goddess. His drooling glare traveled all the way up to her firm thighs, where he saw a scene playing out whereby a whole infinitesimal army tried in vain to harm her.

"Mom! Can Greg come over here to help me with─" Wilfred heard Celeste's voice calling out in the far back of his mind.

It took quite some seconds before things started to sink in as Wilfred's eyes met hers, and he saw her gawking at him─all wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

She sees you ogling. She sees you ogling, Fred!

Wilfred granted her a warm smile like he was greeting her for the day in a desperate attempt to repair things. He immediately regretted it and realized too late that this simple gesture was awfully ill-timed. It only amplified the creepo-like image she must surely be having of him right now. His concern was indeed confirmed as he saw her simply shaking her head in disbelief, "You're weird." Celeste said.

Next to his feelings of shame, Wilfred also felt a sense of satisfaction. He was noticed by her!

She looked at me! Spoke to me even! Even though her words were a bit derogatory.

This all happened inside Wilfred's head, of course. Because from the outside, he managed to maintain his attitude as the responsible stepfather. Or so he hoped.

"Help you with what, sweety?" Emma asked

"Well, you know… with homework and such."

Emma produced a peal of derisive laughter, "Greg's an uneducated dropout and a lousy delivery guy nonetheless. His pizzas are always cold. What can that guy possibly teach you what you do not already know yourself?"

Celeste fumed, standing up. "Well, at least he's more of a man than that twink standing next to you will ever be."

Is she talking about me again? Wilfred cocked his brow. Yep, she's talking about me again.

"Watch your mouth there, young lady!" Emma walked up to her daughter, almost sticking a spatula─dripping with grease─in her face. "that's your stepfather you're talking about."

"Imposed stepfather." Celeste crossed her arms as she stared back at her mother, undaunted, "You never asked for my opinion when you brought him into our house."

"MY HOUSE! Do you contribute with the rent?"

"Whatever,"

"I did not hear you complaining when I bought you those Valentino Garavani's from his money! If it wasn't for Wilfred, we would be barging around in the thrift shop across the street instead. Scavenging for a run-of-the-mill garment."

Celeste sighed, "That may be true, but still... Hey Wilfred! Yeah, I'm talking to you."

Wilfred jerked up. Celeste had never before addressed him like that. She mostly ignored him or made indirective puns about him while talking to her mother. He felt like a shivering mouse, who was bluntly yanked out of his cozy hiding place and plunged in front of a pack of bloodthirsty wolves. It felt safe to be on the sideline during this discussion. Now, however, he was promoted to a participant. He wasn't really the subservient type during social calls, especially not with Emma, with whom he could argue quite fiercely at times.

That was a whole other story with Celeste, though. There was something about her that he found both intriguing as intimidating at the same time. The first time Emma brought her along to make acquaintance with him was roughly two years ago. It merely led to a quite inconvenient occasion for all of them. It was pretty obvious that Celeste was forced by her mother to join this meeting and act politely. She had a hard time in doing so. She mostly just ignored Wilfred. More than once, she doled out a feisty remark to her mother by making clear that she was rather anywhere but here. The only time her sparkling, green eyes lighted up and met his was when Wilfred was boasting about his earnings in the insurance sector compared to others in the same field.

On his turn, Wilfred found out that he too had trouble maintaining his natural composure when this Celeste walked in. She was little more than just a girl, but still, her natural appeal was able to put Wilfred's heart to a stop the moment she walked in.

This woman is a true Goddess. She's nothing like her mother.

Those words were the first that popped up in his mind the moment she stood in front of him to reach out a limp handshake. It was also the first time he visualized her as a giantess with tinies teeming about at her feet to meet her every whim. With time, Celeste slowly flowered into a stunningly attractive young woman, with luscious curves that gave even the baggiest of garments a hard time of veiling them. Her waving, chestnut hair wore a warm undertone of red woven naturally into brown at its endings─with a few streaks of pitch-black here and there as if to dissent from the prevailing order.

However beautiful she may be on the outside, it was also a harsh fact that this girl seemed nearly rotten on the inside. She was downright rude and selfish, demanding instant gratification of her every whim, with a total lack of empathy for the needs of others.

And this was precisely the perfect combination of attributes Wilfred loved to see with the reigning giantesses he always saw during fantasizing images in his head.

From that day on, Celeste's person started to dominate Wilfred's dreams like a cruel and unforgiving giantess Goddess─ruling over the entire planet with an iron fist.

She was also the leading lady starring in the movies playing in Wilfred's head during sessions of intimacy with Emma. He merely had to conjure the image of Celeste as she loomed threateningly above a helpless, shrunken city to make his member hard like steel─ready to guide his wife to a yodeling encore.

Celeste was a true Goddess in Wilfred's eyes, and here he stood─eye to eye─with this teenage deity as her narrowed eyes zeroed in on him─seemingly piercing right into his soul.

She's coming. She's coming! Wilfred panicked as Celeste made her way toward him.

"Do not ever touch me like that again!" She fumed at her mother, who tried to stop her. "and put that spatula away. You like ridiculous with it." She yanked her arm free and strode up toward Wilfred. Her brand new boots clattered on the floor until she stopped merely three feet in front of him─cocking her head.

"You want to converse with me, don't cha? Bonding with your stepdaughter and all. Well, here I am. Converse." Celeste crossed her arms, waiting patiently.

Wilfred's eyes shifted from Celeste's to his wife, begging for some aid. Emma merely nodded with her head as to prod him into a conversation with her daughter.

Even now, at a time like this, with the sight of his Goddess, the sweet scent of his Goddess, the heavenly voice of his Goddess addressing him in the flesh─Wilfred found that he was unable to speak even one decent word to her. Her close presence was just too overwhelming for him. He felt a deep, strong urge to just bow down and grovel at her boots and be degraded by her.

Giving in to such a subservient tactic would irrefutably lead to irreparable damage to him as a person, though.