Henry couldn’t fall asleep or as much as relax in the hound’s mouth. He filled out the space fully, pushing at her cheeks, with his knees and below even sticking out from her lips. Not only was his journey rocky, bouncing up and down as the giant moved on all fours, but Henry had a neighbor. The inside of the mouth was shared with a tongue, a tongue which wouldn’t leave him alone, picking and prodding at his body and most of all at his manhood. His manhood was her favorite thing to pick on and play with. She’d already licked and sucked him to orgasm over five times, each one more painful and less enjoyable than the last, but there was no end to her thirst.
Normal orgasms several times in a row would be exruciating enough, but these giant hounds possessed some power to drain his vitality with it. Henry hoped it would pass, for now he felt like a vegetable, unwilling to move, no vigor in his body. He squirmed somewhat, and instantly the teeth clamped his shoulders in response and the tongue returned to lap away at his manhood.
“Oh, god,” Henry groaned. “No, please, no more.” At least her pace wasn’t so hectic, the licking becoming more of an absent-minded task. Henry lost track of time, sucked on like a caramel as she ran, her breathing audible through the nose above him. As time went on Henry would hear voices from below, humans, and he noticed they were trying to keep quiet as the giant passed them. Eventually the voices couldn’t be ignored, revealing it grew more and more crowded, and they came from above, from giants. Doors were passed, guards and personnel were signalling to let the hound through, and sounds were echoed across large halls.
“And what is brought before me this time?” a mature voice said, dark and rich.
“My lady, this hound belongs to the squadron sent after the three humans from Humius,” a guard said. “Hound, present the target.”
The hound sucked on Henry so hard he thought she tried to rip the skin off him. Most of the saliva was drained off his body, and then she lowered her head and opened her mouth wide to let him out. Henry landed on a green carpet. The air was cool, the world bright, and he writhed there like a prisoner isolated for months whose door had just been opened, greeted by light for the first time. The hound withdrew.
“Rise, scum,” the guard said. “You stand before Madam Leylee Richwood.”
It was a battle to get up on all fours. Henry raised his head, heavy as metal. Two beautiful, giant sandaled feet stood before him. Sandals easily broke and tore when giants used them. Wearing them signalled comfort, luxury, and a complete absence of any physical demand in one’s daily schedule, a sign of the upper class. The hazelnut color of the sandals fitted her tan skin perfectly, and the strap running from between the big and second toe to the ankle was adorned with glittering jewelry. Two humans were there, and at first Henry thought they stood on top of her feet. But no, they were tied in place, their feet tied to her fabulous anklets and their wrists tied to a garland partway up her shins. On the garland was a yellow glowing stone, morningrocks, which shone with the light of dawn when in the presence of magic. No doubt the two humans were mages, used to fuel the morningrocks’ glimmer. They were also dressed in nice vests and pants pinned with jewels, and their expressions were blank, showing no emotion, a shell of themselves. Who could blame them, when they were literally worn like decoration? Henry didn’t dare think how long she’d had them there.
Eyes travelling up her shapely legs, Henry saw the golden hems of her skirt which ended under the knees, and a green and glossy fabric thereafter. Leylee Richwood wore necklaces and armbands of gold, a circlet of diamond, and two more mages tied at her forearms like on her lower legs, morningrocks shining near them. She was older, a mature lady, a strong chin, and the rich green eyes and golden hair complemented her clothes. Her hair came down in long locks, falling over her chest, draping her regal pose, and as Henry drank in the sight of her towering over him, he felt worthless. The size wasn’t the issue this time, he’d gotten well used to that. With her jewels, all the giants under her command, the four mages tied to her, the pristine and glamorous beauty which illuminated the room as if she were the sun itself, she radiated power. The human kind of power, the one of status, command, and wealth. But the mixture of the human kind of power with the giant’s size, the ability to wear humans so nonchalantly, look down upon Henry so imperiously, it joined together for the most dominant result Henry had experienced. Human nobles would look down upon peasants as if they were dirt, but many superficial factors had to be manipulated to achieve it, such as placing the throne high for the noble to look down upon them, forcing the peasant on their knees. Leylee Richwood needed only to stand before him. No superficiality was needed, for it wasn’t superficial. Her towering height was authentic, her ability to flatten Henry out with one sandaled foot was real. Henry could don the most fabulous clothes and stand as tall and proud as possible and it wouldn’t matter. He felt like a speck of dirt before this goddess, unable to fathom that she and him were creatures in the same realm of existence.
“So you’re one of the three humans who snuck in and attacked a giant?” Leylee Richwood said, a rich and dark voice.
Henry nodded. He was on his knees, not through anyone’s instructions or command, but he simply felt this was his place.
“Your two compatriots were under the Charmer’s control, so it was only you left,” she continued, head maintained high, only her eyes down on him. “Rogue mages never find any success here.” She raised her left foot on its tiptoes to show the human tied to her shin, then alternated to the right, opening her arms to present all four tied humans. “These were a party of powerful mages, sent to assassinate me half a year ago.”
Henry swallowed. They’d hung there for half a year, utterly helpless, and if Leylee willed it they would remain there for the rest of their lives.
“We were defending ourselves, my lady,” Henry dared to say, his voice lacking courage. “The offgiant attacked us first. It’s her word against ours.” That would always favor the giant, but Henry hoped it would be different with an offgiant. “We ended up here by accident. Our presence in Gintessa is one long accident, all me and my two friends wish for is to be home in our village in Humius, where we’re from. If only your greatness would bless us with that kindness.” Only now did Henry notice the room, a vast space for giant standards, made of polished marbles with colonnades along either side. Red banners hung symmetrically across the room with a golden lion in the middle, no doubt her symbol.
The giant hound who had taken Henry there moved up towards Leylee and nestled against her leg. Leylee petted her, the hound smiling and humming happily. “One like yourself cannot simply be sent on his way. And the veracity of your story shall be tested in our arena, against the giant you harmed.”
“Ada?”
“That was her name, I believe. I have good use for offgiants, especially one so sturdy and large like herself. My healers managed to restore some of her eyes, although not to full function, and she will be here tomorrow. Our arena is where truth is revealed, where captors shape their fates. You and Ada will compete in the arena. Should you be victorious, I will let you return to Humius. Should Ada be victorious, she will decide what happens to you.”
“B-But I can never win on my own against her.”
“Feigning weakness? You were capable enough to blind and almost rip her face off.”
“We got lucky, and it was with two of my friends. She was toying with us. If anything, the arena will prove how I don’t stand a chance, how she is lying.”
“You question our traditions, our honored arena?”
Henry’s courage shrunk, lowering his head. “I’m sorry, my lady.”
“That is your fate.” Madam Leylee Richwood scratched her hound by the ear, lowering her head and whispering to her ear, “Did the mage taste good?”
The hound purred blissfully and nodded, coyly eyeing Henry. She licked her lips.
“Are you hungry for more?”
She nodded again, giving a happy sound somewhere between a squeal and a bark. Madam Leylee Richwood snapped her fingers as she turned around and walked to her luxurious armchair by the end of the room, the hound following her. Henry was confused as to what to do. But when Leylee sat down and the hound was obediently by her side, Leylee gestured for Henry to come. He did as commanded.
Leylee snapped her fingers and pointed at her feet. “One kiss for each prominent diamond.” Henry searched as he made his way there, scared of any missteps. Both of the straps along her sandals had plenty of jewels decorated on them, but the first stone, just above the gap between her big and second toe, was a distinct white piece of glimmering beauty. Those had to be the glimmering diamonds.
Henry caught the perfumed scents of lemon and lilies from her feet as he got near. Worshipping her wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. If the hound hadn’t sucked his dick dry several times today, he’d do it happily. He stepped onto the sandal, like the step of a normal flight of stairs, leaned forward and kissed the diamond of the right sandal. Then he moved over to the left and did the same. Henry backed off to see her face and next command.
She snapped her fingers and pointed down again. Though it was the hound who dove in, smooching her sandaled feet, kissing the jewels and even the mage tied to the shin, nowhere near the wet sloppiness with which she ravaged Henry. Henry didn’t know if he should do the same, though Leylee quickly answered that. “You’re not worthy of touching me.” Leylee pointed to her hound. “The highest you earn is servicing my beast. Do for her what she is doing for me.” While still massaging Leylee’s feet with her lips, the hound’s eyes went to Henry, an excited wait. She was on all four, bending down to service Leylee, and Henry walked down along the length of her body until he ended up by two pale soles staring up from her kneeling position. The balls of her feet and toes were relatively dirty, as she’d use those when moving on all four. The arch and heel were relatively clean, but it wasn’t as if they completely avoided all contact with the ground either. There was some faint stretches of brown to be found there. The toes wiggled excitedly.
Henry got down and got to work. Without anyone supervising him, he lay over the left foot and focused on the soft and already clean arch. There were numerous wrinkles to choose from, a feast for a slave, and Henry systematically tended to each little fold of flesh. He picked at a lump with his lips and ran his tongue over it, making out with all the wrinkles. His legs were tugged and pinched at from her frantic toes, dancing in ecstasy.
“Dear god,” Henry whispered. He stared up past the leg and ass before him, and past the hound’s body he saw Leylee’s gorgeous face reading a letter she’d been given. Despite worshipping her soles the way he was, the hound felt irrelevant to Henry. There was no personal air between the two of them. All of it came from Leylee, an oppressive pressure without even touching or sparing him a glance, and it was stronger than anything any giant had put upon him. Leylee certainly knew what she was doing. Despite having been toyed with the past few weeks by many giants, this woke a newfound shame within Henry, a new level of domination. His dick perked up in response, though it ached after the treatment the hound gave it and turned slack again.
Leylee received guests as Henry transitioned to the hound’s other foot, tending to all the wrinkles on that arch as well. The audience were giant villagers, speaking of their woes, two arriving with their conflict over someone accidentally burning portions of the other’s cropland. The hound’s presence was a sign of power, of what powerful magic Leylee had in her arsenal to make humans end up that way during transformation. Henry felt unnoticed as he continued worshipping throughout the afternoon.
Then Leylee dismissed any further guests and asked her servants if the banquet was ready. They said that in the next hour it would be, and the guests had arrived in the city. Leylee rose from her chair and the hound flicked her foot to throw Henry off, turning around and grabbing him with her mouth. She bolted off, and Henry saw hallways and great marble decorations flash by as she went. With the mention of a banquet, Henry couldn’t imagine it taking place anywhere else than where the hound took him, to the long table of decorated glazed wood, with a lavish rug and glittering chandelier overlooking it, the light dazzling on the burnished marble walls. The hound stopped by the legs of the most outstanding chair at the end of the table, dropping Henry there. An ornate rug received him, and before Henry could gather himself, her tongue arrived, starting at his legs and ending at his head, swiping across his body one, two, three, four, and up to ten times, hungrily lapping away at him. There wasn’t much drool this time, perhaps a conscious effort from her as she wouldn’t want to slober all over the nice rug. The groove surface of her tongue stroked his skin. Then, she went over to kissing repeatedly, and at last she grabbed his groin between her lips and sucked.
“You can’t be serious…” Henry groaned. Her thirst was unsatiable. Henry saw the legs of servants coming and going, setting the table, the clutter of large silverware continuous. The hound tried to keep a low profile and didn’t make too much noise, though the dexterous efforts of her tongue returned to his manhood. She wanted more.
Another head peeped in above Henry. His first instinct was that a girl had crept under the table, but he soon noticed it was another hound. She had a similar profile, young, thin, wearing modrocks over her abdomen and the back of her thighs and along the forearms and as spikes coming out of her collar. Her hair was longer and untied, perhaps as she wasn’t out hunting.
She immediately peeped down and sniffed Henry’s chest, exploring him, and then she closed her lips around his throat, sucking on his bald head like a lollipop. The lips advanced, passing his shoulder and settling on his waist, kissing his waistline as her tongue lapped away at his smooth head. One sucked on his manhood while the other made out with his entire torso. The original hound growled, unhappy. Her teeth found a good grip on his lower body, took him off the ground, and it became a sloppy tug of war as they fought by sucking on him opposite ways. Despite how dry he was, Milton felt it returning, he was about to come as these two young and sweet mouths were displaying how ravenous they were for him. However, the new hound who held his chest bit down with her teeth and tugged abruptly, and with cold air on his lower body she'd wrestled him free from the other. His erection was on display, strands of drool tracing back to her lips, and the new hound was about to turn around and steal him away. The first hound threw a hand, slapping her across the cheek hard enough to launch Henry out of there. He landed with several rolls on the carpet, and the hounds growled at one another, frowning. One threw a hand, with the motion as if she were a cat with a paw. The other skipped back and returned the hit. They got too close, entangling with one another in rapid hits, breaking off, sparring some more, and in their next bout one of them jumped up and struck the table, knocking a readied glass down.
“What in the world,” a servant exclaimed. “You two, get out of there, now! Important guests are coming soon.”
The two hounds peeped out from under the table, though the first one glanced at Henry and wanted to return underneath.
“Now!” The servant kicked at her and both hounds whelped, somewhat girlish in sound, and bolted off. Henry watched around him. Only the hounds knew he was there, and they’d been chased off. The table was massive, for giant standards even, and he saw the bare feet of servants padding about, discussing where to put what and how to arrange it, who would sit where, and a younger servant was scolded by her elder for a slight error.
Henry wiped the saliva off him, using the carpet. It was green and with a welcome surface, yellow decorative patterns swirling throughout it. There was no telling if it was better to march out before the servants and announce himself or if he ought to remain. Perhaps they would put him in a cell, so he decided to remain here. He didn’t know what they would do with him until he’d face Ada in the arena.
“Ada.” The thought reminded him. He’d forgotten, not allowed a moment of peace from the hound having dragged him around. He would face Ada in battle, to determine his fate. Ada would gain ownership of his fate if she beat him in the arena, a likely scenario. “Fuck…” He was genuinely afraid of what she would do to him. Henry remembered when they fought her the last time, as all three, and when Milton went to the mountainside and catapulted large boulders against her with his tethers. The seriousness it brought out of her, the foot she placed onto Milton in vengeance, ready to crush his mage body onto a surface of rock. Henry remembered the dread as he pleaded her to spare his friend, seeing her deadpan expression, thinking she would do it. She had been merciful. They had narrowly escaped her serious side, but now Henry wouldn’t be able to. He could place hope in one thing, that although they were far from friends, Henry had the best relationship with her out of the three. At times he’d reached her gentle side, played into her games and satisfied her, shown her he could do what she wanted. He knew she could reason. And it was Rennard who launched the attack. If she could put the vengeance aside for a moment, perhaps Ada could see not to unleash all her anger on him.
The dark scrape of chair legs on the carpet brought him back from his thoughts, and multiple guests were sitting. Greetings and pleasantries were exchanged, the guests welcomed, and all around him the guests were finding their seats. Ornate dresses covered from the knees below, varying shades of red and blue and green and gold with intricate embroidery across them, the glossy fabric sheening like the polished marble of the hallways. All of them wore sandals, large and mature feet of giant ladies decorated with anklets and toerings. Henry recognized Leylee Richwood as she sat on the far end, the two mages still tied to her shins. There was nothing he feared more than ending up like that. As long as Leylee was diligent with keeping them tied and subdued whether she took them off or kept them on, there was literally nothing they could do, the definition of helplessness. They could be worn by her for literal years without a thing to do about it.
“A radiance and splendor that is unmatched, Madam Richwood,” a guest said. “Both in yourself and everything with your toil put in it.”
“We are blessed to be received, madam,” another added.
“I am blessed to receive you, ladies,” Leylee said. “Please, forget everything that burdens you, and let yourselves be spoiled this night.”
Henry stuck his tongue out. “Politics,” he muttered. Though he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. It was a big world, and not just literally. These were powerful women, the political kind of power which exceeded their size, and he felt like humans were never meant to have a say. They should be overjoyed to have their little Humius. Henry watched those mages tied to Leylee’s ankles again and missed home more than usual, for now he knew what a treasure his village was.
Henry kept to the central parts of the large table, so not even a sly angle from one of the guests could catch him. The guests’ chatter started crashing together into a susurrus as everyone spoke with their neighbor or in smaller groups. Henry ambled down the length of the table and observed the guests. One guest had copper-brown skin with sandals styled in a simple yet beautiful wooden style, with a few emerald fashioned as leaves prickled throughout the strap. From what he overheard, she was from further northeast, and Henry wondered how many of these had connections with the Gray Rhinos. Another was tan with gladiator sandals and a matching pair of toe rings. The next giant stood out, pale skin paired with a matching white dress contrasted against the previous darker colors. Sapphire blue lacings trimmed the hems of her dress, ending at her shins, and while the previous pair of feet were ladylike and mature with regal composure, these pale feet had left their slippers and were playfully wrestling with one another, drawing circles on the carpet, the toes grappling with one another. She was young. She reminded him of…
“Wait.” Henry searched and searched, and every detail he wanted to find to confirm it wasn’t her did the opposite. The more he kept looking, the more it correlated, and as he moved closer he realised he couldn’t forget them. How could he ever forget the feet which had come sweeping past the woods back when Henry walked with his two friends and everything was alright in the world? This was the pale and innocent sole which had introduced him to what it felt like to be stepped on, treated like dirt, dominated, all in accident. How could he forget where this crazy journey all started?
Henry had to move closer to eliminate the slighest chance of a mistake, and as he got a glance of her chin, mouth, nose, and then eyes, no doubts were left.
It was Lily.