"Three weeks ago, Mr. Salazar, you hired me to look into the activities of your sometimes errant wife…" Megan stated.
She leaned back in her chair, an ostentatious thing of dark, burgundy leather, accented with even darker wood, and crossed her legs, savoring the feeling of the hosiery on her thighs beneath her skirt and the relatively cool air on her feet, free of her shoes under her desk. On the desk in front of her were all the assembled documents she’d collected; mostly photos with times, dates, and locations written on them, but also print-outs of text messages, sales receipts, and even a record of cell-phone tower data that could be used to corroborate her account of the past three weeks.
Her client was also on the table. Mr. Salazar, apparently Edgar to his friends, was one of the thousands of people affected by an ubiquitous disease that caused them to shrink to only a few inches tall. Mr. Salazar had been particularly affected by the disease, reducing his once respectable height of six-foot-three down to just the ‘three’.
“Over these three weeks, I’ve spent substantial time, effort, and money…” Megan let the last word hang in the air for a moment. “tracking the whereabouts, movements, and activities of your erstwhile wife’s every waking and sleeping moment.”
Megan folded her gloved hands over her abdomen, fingers lacing over each other as the tiny man sifted through the evidence laid out in front of him. It took him significantly longer than even Megan’s other clients, most of whom could at least be expected to be of a height with her shin. His whole body was put into the action of sliding photos off of a small stack, viewing the next and repeating the process.
“My investigation, although starting three weeks ago, spanned months prior…” Megan outlined as Salazar continued to review sheets. “When your suspicions regarding your wife’s behavior were first raised, according to the information you supplied to me.”
“I just can’t believe she’d cheat on me, just because I shrunk!” Salazar lamented, looking through the photos of his wife, taken from discreet vantage points.
It was always hard dealing with shrunken clients, and this one in particular was becoming more of a pain than he was worth. The brief image of him, begging in the palm of her hand as her fingers pinched closed around his shoulder, cleaving through the limb with almost no resistance. Even as she sat in her chair, she could almost hear his screams, feel the warmth of his blood spreading out on her palm as it soaked through the gloves, smelled it as it leaked out of him. Megan shook her head a bit to clear the reverie from her mind before countering.
"Mr. Salazar, I am able to report that she didn't…" Megan countered.
Leaning forward, almost over her diminutive client and brushing a few of the stacks away to reveal an image of the Mrs. Salazar, a woman unaffected by the shrinking disease, with a blonde short curled undercut that would be recognizable at nearly any distance, through a window, sitting next to a bed and holding a frail hand obscured by the rest of the building.
"Based on my investigation, including testimony, receipts, evidence, and, of course, observation…" Megan outlined. "Your wife is visiting a terminally ill friend from college."
The shrunken man looked silently down at the image.
“She’s not cheating on you…” Megan continued. “Never was.”
“Huh…” Salazar said dumbfounded. “Well I suppose that’s a relief.”
Megan tried her damnedest not to let her anger show through on her face, but the brief flash of his body disappearing into her fist and the phantom sound of his screams turning into a brief crunch, only to finally dim into a squish as what remained of him was squeezed out from her fist washed through her mind. It took her a brief moment to shake the sensation of his body crumpling in her hand from her mind. With the vision behind her, she reached into the desk in front of her and pulled the most important paper in her desk from it and slid it onto the table. The single sheet slid smoothly over the rest of the assembled evidence, coming to a rest neatly over the photo Salazar had been staring at, the one of his wife, unmistakable in her blonde undercut and red coat, consoling her friend in the hospital. The mist grey sheet of paper contrasted well with the shining black ink displaying the six digits before the decimal.
“What is this?” Salazar asked, looking up from the bill.
“The fee for my services.” Megan noted. “Hours, supplies, fuel, mileage, and of course, overtime. All of it is clearly laid out in the itemized section, and since the process was so timely, I afforded you the courtesy of waiving the fees associated with the work. You’re just being charged the rates for the time and expenditures. So, Mr. Salazar, how would you like to pay?”
“Pay?” Salazar yelled. “For what? Finding out my wife wasn’t cheating on me? Would you pay a fire department if your house wasn’t on fire?”
“Yes.” Megan said flatly. “That’s how you keep the fire department employed for when your house is on fire. And, Mr. Salazar, I am not the fire department. For one, they have a very nice, publicly funded building, and vehicles. Whereas my office, and my car, are funded by paying clients. And for two, they are bound by ethical standards that I am not. So, I will ask this again, how will you be settling your bill?”
"You kidding me?" The tiny man protested. "I hired you to catch my wife cheating on me, and she's not even messing around!"
The impact of her palms on her desk was loud, even for Megan, and Salazar's body, too small and frail to endure the crushing impact under her hand, was reduced to a misshapen, broken pile of twitching viscera and gore. Megan blinked and the satisfying vision cleared to reveal Salazar unharmed, but knocked from his feet by the deafening impact of her hands on the desk, even as she found herself looming over him.
"N…now wait a minute, Megan. There's n…no reason to…!"
His words were cut off by her gloved hand snatching him from the wooden surface with a speed and force that showed little regard for his comfort or safety. Almost immediately she could feel his body yield to her grip.
"Clients get to call me 'Megan', friends get to call me 'Megan'..." She said through smiling teeth. "Contact breaching, non-paying, little shits refer to me as 'Miss Megan', do you understand that, worm?"
Doubtless, the worthless thing in her gloved fist was desperately trying to agree, but Megan's grip was tight enough to squeeze the air from it's lungs and leave it to squirm in agony. With only a bit more pressure than it took to completely deny the would-be client, Megan could feel his bones begin to crack under the relatively overwhelming strength of her fingers.
Either the pain, or the lack of oxygen, finally took its toll on the tiny body, and Salazar collapsed forward, unconscious in Megan’s relentless grip. Megan frowned. A brief relaxation of her grip, and a quick spit into his face, brought the shrunken man in her hand coughing and gagging back to consciousness as Megan’s spit ran down his entire upper body.
“I didn’t give you permission to pass out, worm!” Megan yelled at the tiny man. “Do it again and you’ll regret it worse than anything else you’ve done today!”
“Please! Miss Megan, I’m sorry!” Salazar begged through ragged coughs and breaths. “Just let me go!”
Megan’s smile returned, and she reclined back in her chair. The synthetic materials made very little noise as she leaned back into the overplush seat. The tiny man in her grip did everything in his power to regain regular breathing, and clearing his face from the spit Megan had covered him in.
“Why would I let you go?” Megan asked. “I’ve done weeks of research, investigation, and tireless work. Do you know how many nights I ate cheap ramen for this case? How many other cases I could’ve taken? Paying cases?”
“I’ll pay! I’ll pay!” He begged. “Please, just let me go and I’ll pay!”
Megan couldn’t help but wonder at the prospects of the suspicious husband’s finances. He’d managed to secure the occasional trip to her office without a chaperone, which was extraordinary for someone who had contracted the shrinking virus. She weighed her options, as he looked up desperately at her from her fist.
“Oh, now it wants to pay up!" Megan said before considering the offer. "You know what? I think you will…"
There wasn’t any softening of her countenance and the tiny man in her hand didn’t change his own countenance of abject fear and worry. Megan stood up from her chair, and without bothering to slip her flats back on, walked around her desk toward the most open space her office offered, pushing the chair for her client out of the way.
A brief widening of Megan’s grin was the only warning the tiny man received before her hand opened up. The tiny form, freely laying against her palm, was otherwise completely exposed to her other hand’s fingers as they descended on him and tore away at his clothing. Her gloved fingernails, each ending in a relatively broad spear point, found their way under the fabric and simply slid it away, as though it were made of nothing more substantial than cobwebs.
"What are you doing?" The tiny man in her hands screamed as the clothes fell away. "You can't do this to me!"
"And what's going to stop me?" Megan asked, more amused than angry. "This little toy in my hand? I doubt it."
Megan didn't give it a chance to respond, simply tilting her hand and letting the tiny man slide down the fabric covering her palm and, screaming all the way down, fall from where Megan held him at chest level. There was something special about the look of panic on the tiny face just before he fell free.
Although he screamed with more intensity, to Megan, the impact of the tiny body to the cheap vinyl floor seemed anticlimactic. The sound of the body hitting the vinyl was less of a thud and more of a very brief splat, despite the fact that the body stayed intact despite the brief fall and sudden stop.
She resisted the very potent urge to simply stamp out her former client, the image of a red spurt coming from under her flat crystal clear in my mind. Joining the mental image was the imagined crunch the tiny body would make as it was reduced to a fleshy mess under her foot. It was made even harder as she could almost feel the brief resistance his bones would offer before he was flattened under her sole almost instantly.
Megan shook her head and cleared the vision from her mind and turned back toward the feeling beneath her foot. She lifted the shoe to see the tiny form, bruised, cut, and with both arms thoroughly broken from being casually rolled underfoot. The shrunken man moved, but barely, as he was finally freed from under her foot. His legs attempted to push him away from her, his arms dragging uselessly beside him.
“Still trying to run out without paying?” Megan said with a laugh. “Let’s see if you can escape this…”
Megan lifted her sole over the shrunken man and slowly, so as to allow him to see the shadow growing over him, descended it down onto him. With almost gentle deliberateness, Megan covered his whole body, slowly enveloping him under her nylon-covered sole, before easily rolling him back and forth under her foot.
The tiny body almost slid between the silky soft sole of Megan's nylon stockings and the cheap vinyl floor. As much as Megan enjoyed the feeling of his skin sliding beneath her, Megan made sure to apply pressure and roll him under her sole. She was immediately rewarded with the screams and snapping of bones she'd sought.
"That's such a better sound than your little 'blah, blah, blah you can't do this, blah, blah, blah…" Megan mused as she continued to roll the small body under her foot.
When she moved her foot off the tiny thing beneath her, the effect was everything she'd hoped for. Limbs wrenched into unnatural angles, lesions and bruises over its body, and the slightest of pained moans coming from it.
"I think it's about time to bring out the best in you…" Megan smiled. "Be at least a little useful and squirm for me…"
With his body completely under her sole again, Megan smiled as he unwittingly obliged her order. Despite his injuries, the feeling of her nylons pressing into him from above was apparently enough to panic him into wiggling under her in a desperate, if useless, attempt to escape. Very slowly, Megan began to increase the pressure. She could feel his body be subsumed under her foot, his squirming slowing as he lost anywhere to flee. With a quick shift of her foot, she caught his arm, the only part of him that remained uncovered by her foot, and pulled it back under with the rest of him, quickly pressing down again to stifle any resistance.
Through the sole of her foot, even through the nylon covering it, she could feel his body trying to move. Megan closed her eyes and began to increase the pressure. The body beneath her sole slowed, no longer even able to wiggle under her foot.
Deciding it was time, Megan leaned into the foot covering the tiny would-be client. The diminutive bones were no match for her weight shifting onto them and began to snap beneath her sole almost immediately. Megan made sure it wasn't over instantly, but it didn't take long for the brief, snapping resistance under her foot to become a much softer squishing. Warmth blossomed under her sole, and the red stain of it began to seep up between her toes, through her nylons.
One final twitch of her leg was all it took to meet her sole with the floor of her office, the insect caught between them reduced to a runny, red paste that oozed from between her toes and from under her foot where he had been flattened. Megan twisted her ankle, ensuring that nothing, save the stain, would remain of the man who had attempted to cheat her out of weeks worth of work.
The satisfying sensation of the warm ooze squishing through her toes was interrupted by the sudden, loud knocking at her office door. The abruptness of the interruption, and the severity of it, almost caused Megan to slip on the remains of her most recent ex-client.
“One moment!” Megan called out.
She leaned forward over her desk, for the box of tissues. She pulled a handful of tissues from the box, sending it tumbling to the ground, and causing a few whispered profanities to spill from her mouth as she wiped away at the red gore on her sole while she balanced on the other foot.
"Just a moment! I'll be right there!" Megan tossed the tissue into the garbage and shouted again.
Satisfied she would no longer be leaving a trail of bloody footprints along her office floor, Megan made her way to the door, which still shook with knocking, threw the deadbolt open, but left the chain latched as she opened the door just enough to peer through. On the other side of the door was a face stained with make up and tears beneath a blonde curled undercut, tissues being pulled from the pockets of a bright red coat as the woman on the other side of the door sobbed.
“Are you an investigator?” The woman asked through sobs. “I need you to find my husband!”
Giantess World
Author's Chapter Notes:
Don't try to cheat someone who doesn't care too much for your safety, people!
Rated R for violence, F/m, 1-3in, foot, crush, gore. This one's mean, folks.
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Chapter End Notes:
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Thank you so much for reading!