Feeling all dirty and ashamed, Wilfred waited out Celeste's next move while lying in the dark beneath her bed. He muttered under his breath when Celeste's feet vanished from sight and her bed creaked as she plunged down all cozy on her bed.

This may take a while.

Some pop song rose up – probably blasting out of her phone or tablet – and Celeste started to sing along with it.
Wilfred heard Celeste murmuring derogatory comments accompanied by sputtering chuckles as intervals between vocal eruptions. The context and the nature of her words made it clear to Wilfred that she was scrolling through various social media accounts of her peers. Apparently, Celeste found that she needed to state comments aloud on things that needed commenting.

"Really, Nadia? Designated Dave?" Celeste chuckled. "how low can one sink …"

"And you, Natalya – you actually expect me to promote your vlog page after that public sneer you gave me last week?"

"Bla. Bla. Bla." Wilfred whispered as he rolled with his eyes while he was forced to listen – lying there all stuck under Celeste's bed.

This will take ages.

Just as Wilfred was about to yield his ears to a serenade of snarky remarks, he heard a drawer being slid open.

"I hope you're ready to entertain me, Sonny," Celeste said.

Wilfred heard a squeaky voice of protest before he flinched when Celeste's feet slammed back right next to him on the floor. He saw her hand sinking lower – coming within sight through the narrow strip of view Wilfred had from under the bed. Celeste's clutched fingers carried a tiny figure – before dropping its cargo bluntly on the ground.
After a rough landing from a considerable height, Wilfred saw little Sonny struggling back on his feet. The contrast in sheer size was highlighted dramatically when the boy's meager existence shivered fearfully between Celeste's stationed feet. They stood firmly, like two monumental pillars of some ancient Greek Goddess. But that's precisely the picture Sonny must be having of her right now – as he gaped up at her cruel countenance.

"Dance," Celeste said as she stomped her left foot. She tittered heartily when Sonny fell flat again. He quickly stood back up as he shivered with dread to get on Celeste's bad side.
Celeste's feet started to jingle up and down on the beat of some pop song. Then she began to sing.
It soon became apparent for Sonny that he was expected to start dancing – which he did. Watching from under the bed, Wilfred saw the meager boy oscillating his body to the rhythm of the music. But, unfortunately, it was pretty clear that this Sonny did not have the gift of a natural performer. The poor boy missed every beat – it looked awful!
Wilfred feared that Celeste would share this same opinion and that it would lead to some ghastly punishment for him.
The music stopped, Celeste stopped – and eventually, the boy stopped dancing. Craning his neck, Sonny looked up at his captor with a puzzled glare. Wilfred could tell from Sonny's body language that Celeste was far from happy.

"Do you perchance have any notion of my opinion about your dance performance?" Wilfred heard Celeste's voice speaking.
Celeste chuckled when no words came out of Sonny's mouth. Instead, he merely gaped up at her.

"Where do you excel in, boy?"

Just as Wilfred thought that Sonny would be unable to produce any words, he came up with something.

"D-driving, ma'am," Sonny said.

Ma'am? She's just a girl, for godsakes! Wilfred thought.

"Really? Driving? You're like fourteen or something! How on earth could you- Nevermind, I don't wanna know," Celeste paused and then added, "Show me.'

"How?" Sonny asked.

Celeste chuckled. "Simple, with this."

Sonny yelped and jumped to the side when some object was being placed by Celeste's hand dangerously close to him.

"Dad!" Sonny called out and jerked up to make his way to the car – which was significantly smaller than him.

Celeste sniggered. "He's not in there, boy. It's merely his car."

"W-what did you do to him?"

SLAM!

Wilfred flinched when Celeste stomped her foot – almost smashing poor Sonny with it.
"First playing a mute, and now you dare to question me?!" Celeste fumed. "Get in!"

Before Sonny was able to ask how for heaven's sake, he would be able to step in a car barely higher than his hips he was shrunken down even further, matching the car's size.
Wilfred – who was still following this all in the dark beneath Celeste's bed – saw Sonny make haste to step in a car roughly the size of a mere dinky car.

"Now ride, boy. Ride as though your life depends on it because it does," Celeste said and prodded him by smashing a foot near him.
Wilfred watched it all with mixed feelings. On the one hand, the sight of this boiled up an untenable surge of arousal – pumping his member harder than a steel rod. But, on the other hand, Wilfred felt highly concerned about the boy's fate and bore a responsibility to act. Doing this, however, would mean to expose himself – with all that that entails. Getting into the frontline of things has never been Wilfred's strongest suit. He instead preferred to cleverly manipulate others in doing it for him. And however stubborn he was to admit, Wilfred could not deny the fact that he was a little bit afraid of Celeste right now. He had always behold the girl with an unnatural charge of awe – she was after all The Goddess in his dreams – ruling over many. But, seeing the girl displaying things Wilfred deemed only possible in one of his wet, filthy dreams caused his awe for her to soar a few notches higher. The brat utterly shrunk a whole car down to handheld size. And a person! A real-life person – just shrunken down and brought home to play with! It's a clear case of abduction. He should report her to the police, this instance.

"Not impressed here." Celeste's playful voice brought Wilfred back to the here and now.
Peeking from the dark, Wilfred saw George's toy-sized car racing its way toward the doorway.

"Bombs, awaaaay!" Celeste said. And not a second later, Wilfred saw a pillow slamming down on the floor. Then a cuddly bear and an emptied can of coke followed after. Finally, Wilfred's eyes flashed when a porcelain mug clattered down on the floor – cracking apart in many pieces.

What a bitch! Wilfred thought.

Celeste laughed heartily as she watched poor Sonny evading it all pretty deftly.
Celeste applauded. "That's it! Now I'm impressed."

Wilfred's attention was drawn towards the doorway when a figure showed up – standing with her hands on her hips. It was his wife again – Emma.

"What's with all the racket?" Emma fumed while looking down at the floor, which was all littered with shards.

Celeste merely shrugged, "Nothing, I just felt like throwing some stuff around, that's all."

"What are you, insane? Clean it up, right now!"

"My room, my clutter."

"And keep your toys with you!" Emma said.

Both Wilfred and Celeste – simultaneously – gasped, stretched their eyes wide open and reached their hand out a second before Sonny and his dad's shrunken car were crushed to oblivion by Emma's boot. "There." Emma wiggled her foot like she was snuffing out a cigarette – pancaking the whole vehicle. "Now, where is that goddamn husband of mine? Fred! Where the hell are you, Fred!

Wilfred watched all thunderstruck as Emma casually walked off after – unwittingly – killing someone. His eyes were glued at the vised pulp of metal clattering down on the floor after it pried loose from the bottom of Emma's boot when it swung off. George's shrunken car was flattened beyond recognition. Sonny-boy was no more.
If there was a moment for Wilfred to emerge out of his hiding place and act, it was already long gone. An innocent boy's life was taken simply because he was too gutless to do anything about it – and he still was.
Wilfred lay there – under the bed, in the dark, and scared to death to move a muscle as he patiently awaited Celeste's next move. He saw her sexy feet still stationed right in front of him on the floor. A tent was already forming in his pants as he admired them – flashes of giantess-related images flooded through his head. Even now, after he had just witnessed a brutal killing, Wilfred couldn't help but get aroused while observing Celeste's feet and ankles.

I'm beyond repair. Wilfred thought with despair.

He did not know what was worse, busting his nut while laying under his stepdaughter's bed or allowing himself to get sexually fueled right after he witnessed a cruel killing he could have prevented.
Wilfred did care, though. And he truly wanted to do otherwise, deep in his heart, but the urge was just too strong. Especially when Celeste simply stood up, dropped the towel, and started to get dressed.

"Time to find another toy, I guess." Wilfred heard Celeste's voice saying before she turned on the music. From his angle, Wilfred was able to observe her lower body. But that was more than enough to get him going, though. His eyes drooled over at the sight of Celeste's naked bubble butt wiggling from side to side to the beat. A flashy red thong slid over her thighs before clasping firmly around her tight derriere. The backside of it quickly vanished from sight between two juicy buttocks. Wilfred's mind was keen to fabricate lively images of barely visible fighter jets shooting the full spread of their useless missiles at one of Celeste's buttocks. Before he knew it, Wilfred's throat was already vibrating a long moan – which was luckily inaudible due to the hard music - after he spooged unashamed for the second time in his stepdaughter's bedroom.