In this Chapter: A compendium of micro, nano, and other POVs that haven’t gotten much attention in this story yet. These next couple chapters are also going to jump time forward to how we started this whole story. This could split into two chapters so I can maximize more perspective switches and stories across the rooms.
Main Tags of This Chapter: Crush. Worship. Unaware. Feet. Pussy. POV.
Prince Anton
Crest
“Goddess… what should I do?” Prince Anton whispered to himself. The young man, at one point in his life, had been divinely chosen to rule over an entire territory back on his home world before the blue cataclysm took his city and many others to Kristen’s rooms. His religion was based entirely on one day witnessing the creator of all things in the universe saving them from a certain apocalypse. The creator of the universe and savior of their people ended up being Kristen, even if she vehemently reminded the people of Crest that she was just a normal woman and not a god, but things were starting to shift somewhat in Kristen’s attitude toward the idea.
Kristen had been recently displaying her power over people, the perspective in the micro room was changing each day, in ways of fear and distress, but Anton wasn’t worrying so much about the politics and temperaments of the micro people in the other cities, he could care less that Nyla was now in charge of cleaning the goddess’ footwear or if people were terrified to leave their homes, no, Anton was concerned of something rather threatening to his entire ideology and influence over the city of Crest.
Anton typed a message to Kristen, but then erased it, he did this for about an hour, writing and erasing. He stared out of his huge windows towards the great black and gold throne towering over everything in the far distance until his most trusted advisor told him it would be unwise to send a message to the goddess so late in the night, going past the set time Kristen had commanded the people of the room to follow so she wasn’t bothered. The goddess desired only to be contacted in the off hours if there was an absolute life or death emergency.
Anton was anxious, he was blindly loyal to Kristen, wanting nothing more in his life to please her and worship her just like his religion intended, although, for thousands of years they had no idea what their deity was going to look like, and subsequently what her emotions were going to be like. The churches and temples of Crest were now bearing divinely painted images of Kristen depicted in holy clothes or amongst the clouds like an angel of life, of course, Anton wouldn’t dare tell her about those paintings within their houses of worship.
The message was erased again as Anton groaned loudly in frustration, thinking about if the emergency was considered life or death, he turned off his machine and retreated to his room to be alone for the night without sending the message. He laid in his bed within the lavish palace amongst the expansive green courtyards near the heart of Crest’s royal districts. In his head, he thought about the emergency… how the population of his city was starting to differ on opinion. It was covered in the local news almost every night, statistics were repeated over and over by the voices of reporters to the masses.
Anton tried his best to remind everyone that Kristen was the ultimate power, the goddess, the creator, the savior, but no, many people were fearful of Kristen, sure, but some of the people of Crest were starting to see Ginny as the true goddess. This was causing a few arguments across the city, but nothing major. The only real casualty was a pair of construction workers from Crest volunteering to work on the great pathways around the cities. The pair getting in an argument whether they saw Kristen or Ginny as the true goddess, one of them pushed the other off the walkways as he fell hundreds of feet down while workers from other cities around the room didn’t care to intervene.
Anton thought this was an emergency and wanted to ask his savior for help, but he knew Kristen didn’t like hearing such petty and indignant problems from her servants, but one thought did give him solace as he tried to sleep. The night that Kristen came into the room to scoop up a bunch of loyalists made him happy, knowing that there were hundreds of Kristen’s followers getting the chance at ultimate servitude, as much as he wanted to be there himself, he knew his day would come, but what Anton didn’t know was that Kristen had given her loyalists to Ginny for a night of fun instead…
*** *** ***
Ginny – 29
Ginny’s House
Ginny carried her little cap full of micros back to her house for the night, wondering if it was just Kristen being drunk after the bad date with Sam, or if Kristen genuinely didn’t care as much as Ginny had initially thought she did. It felt great letting the truth out for once with Kristen though, having been so paranoid for months, sneaking around, that gut-wrenching feeling like she was going to lose her best friend because of the lies she had been telling. The relief was an almost tangible feeling for Ginny, but she still needed to focus for a few minutes on her walk back to her home. Needing to be careful not to drop or shake the micros too much, wanting them all alive.
Ginny entered her house, trying her best to keep the cap full of tiny, frightened people tucked away behind her body in case her husband was awake or wandering around. Ginny crept around the dark house, tiptoeing, and breathing quietly to not make any noise, feeling like she was alone, apart from the tiny hitchhikers sitting in the palm of her hand.
She moved around the living room, seeing a feint glow of light coming from upstairs followed by a couple of intense clicks and clacks from Daniel’s keyboard signaling that he was indeed awake and playing games late into the night as usual. Ginny curled her lips in disappointment. Thousands of thoughts rushing into Ginny’s mind, how gorgeous and beautiful she was, how fit she was, how young she still felt, the sexual reawakening she had, that she mattered, that millions of people saw her as a monolith of beauty of power and she deserved to be worshipped for once in her life.
She rolled her eyes at the thought of even having this man as a husband still, how underappreciated she felt by him… that could always change, she thought, but she wanted to be alone with her tiny volunteers, to savor them. She decided to hide them in her personal reading room where Daniel never went. Opening a small drawer and placing the micros inside until the morning, leaving the tinies in the pitch black until Ginny decided that it was time to play.
Ginny tried to go to sleep, almost seething at the thought that her husband would come into the room at some point in the middle of the night to lay next to her, finally around 2am he did, but Ginny knew he would be going to his work office in the morning, trying to remind herself that she would be home alone with her new toys as a comforting thought to look forward to.
Ginny awoke and went through the motions of her morning, barely talking to Daniel, making herself some tea and a vegan breakfast. Ginny waiting patiently for him to leave as she did a rather intense workout on her exercise bike, sweat dripping from her face and body as she just kept peddling and waiting while her uplifting girl power pop music thumped in her ear, the muscles in her legs and core tensing.
Finally, Ginny saw the flash of his car leaving the driveway through the windows as she pulled her headphones from her ears to a quiet home and slowed down on her peddling, looking down to see she had pushed nearly 30 miles worth of peddling at consistently high speeds, proud of herself that she got a new personal record.
Getting off her bike and padding her face with a small towel to wipe the sweat away from her head as she breathed a little heavier for a few moments. Dressed in all black exercise clothes, her porcelain skin wet with sweat, deciding if she wanted to clean herself up first or sate her desires. She decided with the latter as she walked toward her reading room, not being able to contain the lust she felt for the newfound power she wanted to feel over tiny beings who were so desperate to serve her that they were willing to risk their own lives just for Ginny’s pleasure.
Opening the small drawer, the micros were still securely contained within the little cap, the walls too high for them to crawl out over anyway as she reached in, gently pinching them up and placing them atop the table in the light with a gentle motion. Ginny bending down, getting a good look at them, able to see the little individual colors of their clothes as she brushed her own wet black hair behind her ears to avoid any stray sweat drops crashing into the cap filled with hundreds of tiny people, not wanting to drown them all away before she could have her fun with them.
“Volunteering like this…wanting to be close to me…all of you… you have no idea how much it means…” Ginny whispered. She was already feeling aroused just from the sight of the micros below her face, putting her hands between her thighs as she wiggled her hips and ass a bit, feeling a warm rush that made her lower body sway. “Okay… be careful, I’m gonna tip you over” Ginny said as she reached down and started to tip the cap over as slowly and as gently as she could, hundreds of micros sliding out of the cap and onto the table level with Ginny’s waist.
The micros in a nice grouping free from their plastic prison and obstructed view as Ginny smiled and became increasingly excited both in her mind and around her body. The desire she was feeling in that moment was hitting her almost as hard as when she sacrificed a cargo plane to her pussy, wanting to explore her reawakened sexuality and regained confidence in her own beauty as she started to slowly undress. Her blood already pumping from the workout she just finished only adding to the intense rush, becoming pink in the face and around her pussy becoming wetter by the second.
She pulled off her tight exercise leggings first, wiggling them down with a bit of extra labor as her moist skin made it a little more difficult to slide down her legs, the fibers pulling and tugging against her thin curves and the smoothness of her perfect skin, bouncing her hips up and down until they peeled off, kicking them to the side as her wet panties were now in full view of the micros.
Next was her tight black tank-top, reaching down to her exposed midriff as she started to pull the shirt up and over her face and head, struggling for a brief moment as she tried to slide her sports bra off at the same time, catching the bottom of her chin for a second before she threw them off and shook her head, still smiling, her body growing more excited as she undressed in front of hundreds of little people who looked at her like a god, until she looked back down, her blinding arousal and thirst for sexual attention turning to just arousal and confusion.
Staring down at the mite sized people as groups of them were starting to run away towards the opposite end and sides of the small table as if afraid of her. Ginny wincing her eyes at the strange sight happening at her hips, dressed in nothing but her soaked panties in both her arousal and her sweat. Thankfully, the majority of micros were still remaining in one mass a few inches from her sex. “What kind of volunteers run away?” Ginny whispered as she tilted her head in thought.
*** *** ***
“We’re loyal to Kristen!”
“We gotta find a way out of here!”
“Ginny is the false prophet!”
“We will never serve this devil!”
“The Goddess will save us!”
The shouts of the micros from Crest continued throughout the night as they were hopelessly trapped in Ginny’s dark drawer without any means of escape. Some people tried to get sleep. A few people tried to climb atop one another to form a sort of human ladder, but the edges of the cap were just too tall. Left alone in their prison to fear their fate.
Their world shattered, thinking they were volunteering to go with Kristen, their lives fulfilled, being able to serve the creator of the universe and all they ever believed in, but no, they were given to the other woman. There was even talk amongst different groups of people within the prison that they wished they could have gone with the sister of the Goddess instead, but no, they were with someone who resembled nothing of their savior.
Tipped over, hundreds of people falling over one another in piles, stray elbows or shins hitting people in the face and body as everyone clambered and struggled, but eventually climbed to their feet. Staring up at the giant Korean woman staring back down at them from a mile above. Her jet-black hair shiny with sweat, the massive pores on her perfectly smooth face a little damp with trickles of cloudy water, her bright white teeth behind the mile wide thin lips turning to a bit of a lusting smile as her eyes lowered with desire.
She wiggled down her leggings, her massive hips bouncing up to the left and right as she bent over slightly, the rumblings under the table feeling like small quakes from her feet stepping around to get her leggings off. Her hips dominating the skyline before the micros as they all lowered their gaze toward her panties. They were immediately surprised by both the smell and the heat coming off her body. The heat from her body was radiating, the temperature increasing by a noticeable few degrees, the micros starting to put the pieces together that she must have just finished some type of intense physical activity to make her that hot.
Even if she was only a few relative inches away from the table, her body was so huge that it already felt like her sex was right over top of them. Some of the micros noticing that her black panties were a little darker with wetness right where her pussy was before the smell started to hit everyone. A mix of her natural body odor, the oils of her skin from the sweat mixed with a subtle hint of her favorite perfume, but the overpowering smell of her sex dripping wet, the distinct musk emanating all over them as a few hundred people tried to cover their nose and mouth with their hands, but it was useless, her odor was beyond their power for them to block.
She then started to tug at her shirt as a panic ensued, the majority of people all starting to yell or move away from the mass concentration of where they were all grouped together. Many just frozen in fear, but dividends of people started to break away, running as fast as they could away toward the openness of the table away from the looming woman. The table alone was the size of one of their cities, barely making any ground in their efforts to run away, but successful in separating themselves from the mass.
“WHAT KIND OF VOLUNTEERS RUN AWAY?” her silky voice boomed over the micros, some of the fleeing people turning back to look up toward her now nude upper body, her small tits bouncing slightly as she shifted her weight to the side with a confused look on her face, others so desperate to get away from the false prophet that they just kept running. A huge quake shook everyone running away to the ground, the false goddess planting one of her feet closer as her upper body bent over the table before she lowered her face for a distinct look at the fleeing citizens. Her huge brown eyes above everyone scanning left to right as she seemed to hold her breath.
The false goddess unaware that a few stray drops of sweat from her tits and chest sprinkled randomly over the table, the few droplets crashing down in random spots, thankfully two of the three drops that fell missed everyone by a few hundred feet, but one stray drop hit near a fleeing group of Kristen loyalists.
The trickle of sweat that fell from Ginny’s chest felt more like an explosion from a high yield bomb, burying ten people into the cloudy and salty warm liquid as their bodies broke and shattered from the intense impact swallowing them into her perspirant. The cloudy sweat turning a pale red color from the lacerations of their micro bodies being ripped to shreds from the power of the collision, all of them dying within seconds from their wounds without time to barely even able to comprehend what had happened to them, not being able to scream from the pain as their lungs were immediately engulfed in the salinity.
The giant woman’s looming face rotated around, her almond eyes confused as she held her hair back behind her ears with her fingers, the micros could tell she was thinking about something, dangerous or not, many people continued to flee, but the majority still remained motionless by the corner of the table and nearest to her exposed inner thighs. The goddess rearing back to her original stance, letting her shorter hair fall down to her jaw as she reached her hands downward and wiggled her panties down her legs. A few more quakes from her tiny steps out of her panties as she brushed them to the side with a flick of her sweaty bare toes.
The micros feeling even more heat now that her entire massive body was exposed, smelling more of her musky sex mixed with sweat and perfume now as they could all see how wet she was, her lips nearly right over them, glistening with a dampness and flushness, her folds swollen and pink. “OH…I SEE…MMM…YOU’RE GETTING INTO DIFFERENT SPOTS JUST FOR ME, HOW EXCITING! IT’S FUNNY HOW YOU ALL KNOW HOW TO TREAT ME BETTER THAN MY HUSBAND…” her beckoning voice thundered over everyone as people looked around confused, not sure of what she meant by different positions, until a shadow over them grew darker and darker.
Suddenly, her entire pussy was hovering right above them followed by a few small quakes, she was stepping closer, straddling over the corner of the table between her legs so she could hover her wetness and herself comfortably. The Kristen loyalists basked in her shadow, her musk, her body heat, looking up towards a tight canyon of sensitive pink flesh and folds covered in a subtle coating of juices. “THANK YOU AGAIN FOR BEING SO WILLING TO DO THIS JUST TO MAKE ME FEEL SEXY…OKAY, GET READY!” she sounded out loud once more as she started to slowly lower herself.
Pure chaos erupted as everyone that was in the mass started to now run and scream from the realization that they were about to be swallowed by her wet folds. A few of her jet-black pubes impacted first, crushing people and splattering them against the massive hairs, dying the menacing black curls a deep garnet with their blood. The warmth growing ever hotter as the intense smell and humidity only increased within a matter of a few seconds as the false goddess took her time, teasingly and slowly lowering herself following a loud moan that shook everyone to their core, a few people covering their ears from the booming and lustful moan.
Suddenly trapped under and against the warm pink walls, wiggling and writhing uncontrollably in an attempt to break free from the sticky and wet folds as they compressed under the minimal pressure applied from the giga woman who wasn’t the true goddess. Immediately covered in her wetness as they coughed and choked from her cum trickling into their lungs, feeling their own bodies squeeze and twist, breaking thousands of bones of many hundreds of people all underneath her, but not squishing anyone just yet.
Some drowning in her cum as they tried to cough and breathe, their eyes turning red from asphyxiation as they kicked and punched for freedom against her hot flesh, but they were stuck until they suffocated completely, their lungs filled with her thick juices. Others starting to get hazy and dizzy from the intense humidity radiating off her body, passing out and going unconscious from the extreme wet heat to never wake up again as their lifeless bodies only served to give the giantess a tingling sensation.
Dozens entrapped in her black pubic hairs above and around her pussy, the victims were mostly people who ran away when she took off her shirt as they made it only that far away relative to the corner in which the cruel goddess started to lay her pussy upon. Many died on the second impact as the bottom curves of her ass started to spread across the table as she settled herself down, a few people disappearing under her asshole. Her knees out to the side as she started to get more comfortable, dozens of bodies splattering in an instant from the heavy increase in pressure.
Their bodies also cushioning the impact enough for the goddess to feel their bodies exploding as little vibrating sensations pulsing across her pussy. The Kristen loyalists fighting for their lives with no choice but to witness and watch all their friends around them explode into red mist or twisted and torn bodies, crushed skulls, broken necks. Bones exploding and piercing their skin, guts erupting from their torso, eyes popping out of their faces followed by brain matter shooting out the back of their head as the pressure and compressing under the hot, wet folds of her pussy became too powerful to fight back against.
Everyone that ran in different directions were now starting to crush and stick to her, spreading out the impact and melting all over her pussy and clit as one very unlucky group found themselves right underneath her swollen clit. The false goddess rapidly started to grind her pussy forward and backward with the motions of her hips rocking the table, moaning more as the sloshing sound got wetter and wetter as she started to cum onto the table, smacking her own pussy against the now wet surface of the table. The goddess moaned louder and louder, shaking everyone that was still alive, but slowly, everyone crushed and squished into her pussy from the grinding or drowned in her wetness.
*** *** ***
Ginny resisting the urge to bring her hand down and rub her own clit, but the sensational popping and vibrations of the micros writhing around her pussy was enough to send her to an amazing climax, grabbing at her tiny tits and nipples instead as she bit her lip and rocked a few more times until she screamed loudly, feeling the power of release as she couldn’t control the volume of her voice, letting it echo throughout her house as she breathed heavily and relaxed her arms down the sides of her body.
Still sat in place atop the table as she reveled in the moment in pure bliss and ecstasy, rotating her head in neck around with her eyes still closed, breathing with her mouth open as she giggled a few times at the echoes of the pleasant sensation still throbbing throughout her body.
It was worth it, having thousands of people all wanting her, to sacrifice themselves for her, purposefully spreading themselves out so they could hit each part of her pussy was the sweetest and most thoughtful thing, although it took a moment for her to realize that’s what the micros were doing. She couldn’t stand it, she had to have them at that very moment, better than any sex she had ever had with any man.
After a few more moments of savoring the feeling, she stood back up as a few sticky strands of her cum stuck to the table like loose strings leading back up to the opening of her sex. Looking down at the bloody and cum covered mess all around the corner of her small table as she giggled. Walking naked through her home as the hundreds of squished micro bodies were stuck to her satisfied sex. Grabbing a few paper towels to clean up the mess, throwing away the evidence along with the cap into the trashcan of the kitchen. Ginny retreating to her bathroom upstairs as she took the best shower she ever had, letting the hot water rain down her skin, feeling like a goddess in total bliss as all the micro bodies slowly started to wash off lower body.
A few weeks later, Ginny had a hired a lawyer in secret to begin the separation process with her husband…
*** *** ***
Vero Nyla - 44
Epsilon City
For months, Nyla lived on the streets of her home city after being excommunicated from her role as president via the command of Kristen. That fateful night where the goddess demonstrated her anger, a night that was supposed to be a political peace offering, instead, a professionally dressed Kristen hovered her black pump heel over Epsilon City in a fit of rage, a million people almost brutally crushed to death because of the mistakes of one woman. Threatening Kristen’s daughter, being an outright contrarian and constantly demeaning Kristen’s rule over the cities, it was only a matter of time before something had to break down in Kristen mentally.
The 44-year-old former president was ostracized from her own people. Forced to live near the outskirts of the city in a relatively abandoned housing project, she wandered the streets begging for food and supplies. Her husband and son didn’t talk to her anymore from fear of being blamed for the near destruction of their home, they were constantly watched as well by police to make sure they didn’t secretly meet with her. Feeding off the scraps of the people who voted for her, but it was widely established by the new president that if anyone was caught offering their home for her then they would also suffer the same fate of being excommunicated.
Nyla cried almost every night wondering where she went wrong. Thinking someone out there had to stand up to Kristen no matter how big and powerful she was. Not wanting some giant girl nearly half her age determining the fate of millions of people, Nyla targeting the only thing that the goddess cared about, Madelyn. Nyla waging a war of psychology rather than a war of force, knowing Epsilon City had zero military or bioweapons capabilities to even hurt Kristen’s daughter, but the words hurt Kristen and Nyla tried to capitalize on that advantage, but failing miserably.
She ate her scraps in her makeshift home, her clothes tattered and torn, bathing maybe once every few days when the water was delivered by Kristen. Nyla contemplated suicide a few times, but always held on to the hope that she could redeem herself and get her family back. The pure hatred she had for Kristen helped motivate her too, the bitterness she had for the colossal woman drove her to survive.
Suddenly, Nyla’s life took an unprecedented turn. A drunk Kristen high off power and sad from relationship difficulties called out Nyla by name, something that shocked millions of people in the room. Nyla flying under the radar of Kristen for several months without recognition, for all Kristen knew Nyla could have been dead. But no, the ousted president was commanded to uproot her vagabond lifestyle and move to a neighboring city across the massive room to Braithe, a no name city that barely contributed anything to the wellbeing of the room. A city often called lazy by the leaders who met in Servitus.
Nyla didn’t believe it was happening and refused, hiding in her makeshift home, and not wanting to deal with the much larger world outside her confines. A few hours after the command was given by Kristen, the small police force of Epsilon City showed up and escorted Nyla to a military dispatch that flew her to Braithe. Nyla yelled and screamed the whole time, but was bound and chained, appeasing Kristen was more important for the collective of society, the needs of the one outweighing the needs of the many meant less people were in danger of being squished by that one.
Nyla stepped off her helicopter into Braithe’s airport, immediately swatted up by a Braithe security escort along with the president of the city. A quiet and older politician type who just wanted the fame of being popular without actually doing any of the hard work himself. He was also the very wise man who decided to give Kristen some attitude during a meeting, igniting Kristen’s recognition of his city and snowballing everything that followed.
He was worried, anxious, he was biting at his nails and constantly rubbing his hands together, and Nyla could sense his weakness. Nyla looked out of the window; a massive pair of strappy flat sandals towered over Braithe, it looked so unreal, they were endless in each direction, the stringy straps like devilish twines wrapping high into the sky, a subtle scent of Kristen’s feet and leather wafting into Nyla’s nose. Nyla looking to the left, a massive smokestack of where Kristen had knocked over a towering skyscraper, killing thousands with a simple tap of her bare foot.
The Braithe president begged and begged Nyla to help clean Kristen’s sandals in order to not incur more wrath and death from the gigantic mother who was growing used to her power over the people, caring less and less about their tiny fragility each day. The president pledging every able-bodied person and cleaning supply Braithe could offer. Nyla refused and turned her nose up at the command, never wanting to be involved at all with Kristen ever again, too filled with animosity toward the giant woman to ever listen to any of her words, especially a direct order, she would rather go back to her dilapidated “house” instead and eat scraps.
She thought about her family, her husband, her teenaged son, her big house, her nice car, all gone because of that huge bitch, why in the world would she ever want to clean her miles long shoes? “Nothing you can say is going to convince me… just get me on a helicopter out of here so I can watch your pathetic Braithe get stepped on when she finds out you didn’t clean her precious, ugly sandals…” Nyla callously said. The president of Braithe started to panic a bit, breathing heavily, never having to handle a crisis like this in his whole life other than the initial panic of Braithe being zapped by a storm of blue lightning.
“We’ll give you anything you want!” he pathetically screamed.
“I’m not interested… what part of her foot do you want to die under… hmm? These are the things I would start thinking about now, haha” Nyla teased as she crossed her arms. “Just take me back, I don’t care what happens to your city” Nyla said.
“She won’t stop at Braithe though, she called you out by name, she wanted you… you know just as much as me that she will take out her anger on Epsilon, your family will be erased just like Braithe because you refused to clean her shoes…” the president of Braithe said. Nyla sighed deeply and rolled her eyes.
“She won’t… as tough as she wants to act, she doesn’t have the stones to crush a whole city on purpose…” Nyla confidently said.
“Her sister… Leslie…what she said about us…just being bugs… no, it’s all changing, it’s changing! It’s only a matter of time before Kristen does something apocalyptic! We have to do what she says or we’re all gonna die!” the president panicked. Nyla shook her head, then looked toward the floor of the vehicle as they drove down the highway toward downtown as the looming pair of sandals surrounding the city only seemed to grow bigger and bigger, dwarfing the biggest buildings of Braithe with ease.
“Hmm…” Nyla hummed in thought as the president was on the edge of his seat, nearly biting his nails until they were just stubs, bleeding a bit from the tips of his fingers. Maybe there was some truth to his statements, things did seem to be changing in the room, Kristen seemed more comfortable with her power and didn’t mind crushing people as much. She thought about her family, how so badly she wanted to see them again, but became terrified of the thought that Kristen was actually capable of crushing Epsilon City along with her family on a whim.
“Please… it has to be you… we have to send her evidence, a video… something… or else more people die in both of our homes” he said.
“Well then… I want the biggest house in this city, your nicest cars, I don’t want to pay for anything, ever… I want all of the nicest food you have kept from the public, personal trainers, a private jet to Epsilon whenever I want… whatever. I. want. No questions asked, those are my terms” Nyla said with a serious tone.
“Yes! Yes, anything” he agreed with enthusiasm.
“I need every available person up there, I want a hazmat suit… it’s bad enough I have to be up there at all, I don’t want to smell like her sandals, okay?” Nyla suggested. The president nodded. “Take a video of me up there cleaning and send it to her, once you do that then get me the fuck off her sandals back to the ground where I will direct everyone on what to do” Nyla demanded.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” the president asked as Nyla scoffed at his comment.
“Designer shoes were a must when I was president… any scuff or scratch was not good for my image… I know what I’m doing…” Nyla said with a serious confidence.
The next few hours were very intriguing for Nyla, just like she commanded, she was brought to the base of the sandals; from Nyla’s perspective it was just an endless black wall going up for a few hundred feet into the sky above her. She was situated in a quaint and quiet neighborhood, but the leathery foot smell was more intense, fumigating the streets with a pungent air that was impossible to ignore. There was an army of people filling the streets, the military equipping the regular looking people with brushes and cleaning supplies in order for them to be effective at their new job.
Only a third of people got masks or some kind of protective gear, the rest would be subjected to Kristen’s odor, having to brush and clean away the oily residue, the dead skin, covering themselves in blackened dust and grime that would stick to their skin and fill their lungs like a viscous ash. Breathing the noxious fumes throughout the night as transport after transport dropped off troves of people onto the surface of the 2 miles long pair of footwear. The volunteers getting straight to work, thousands of people on each the left and right sandal, both groups starting at the toes of the shoes and working their way to the arch and eventually the heel.
Nyla was taken up after being fitted into the hazmat suit she requested. Given an aerial view of the hundreds of people being transported up at a time. The footwear alone spanned the size of half the city, the dark straps above still looming ominously over Nyla like wicked tendrils, a flat ocean of leather covered in volunteers from toes to heel. The helicopter starting to settle down near the arch and under the straps, Nyla stepping off, immediately greeted with the view of people covered in a thick black tar as if they had worked in a coal mine for a week straight.
The people scrubbing at the oily toe imprints with brushes and scrubs while Nyla posed for photos. She had done this before as President of Epsilon, posing for photos without actually doing any of the work she was there to advocate for. Once she was satisfied with the photos, her real work began, she was airlifted off the right sandal once more and brought to the ground where she was ushered into a mobile military command center. It was operated by a small crew in a larger trailer equipped with computers and terminals all over for communication and logistics.
She watched from the first-person cameras attached to the worker managers’ helmets. It looked like a rough job, and she was glad she could get away with not being up there with the peons, but she did want to do what Kristen said, wanting to make sure that a good job was done on her sandals, not up to Kristen’s standards, but to Nyla’s much higher standards. “Is this where I speak?” Nyla asked.
“Yes, this mic in on an open channel to all the crew managers, 60 managers, each with a crew of 100 people… just hold that button at the bottom when you’re ready to talk and let go when you’re done” a young analyst said a few seats down from Nyla.
“Good…” Nyla whispered as she leaned into the microphone. “Attention crew managers, I see that you’re already hard at work and making progress with each of your teams, but I see little details already that have been carelessly ignored. We must do better, not one speck should be left unchecked. Every scratch, every stain, every smudge, it all has to go… no exceptions tonight…” Nyla said.
Nyla worked and micromanaged each team through the night and into the early hours of the morning, as did the thousands of people atop Kristen’s sandals. Nyla was extremely tired, but very much enjoyed the familiar feeling of bossing around thousands of subordinates, it gave her power and purpose for those few hours. It reminded her of being president in a way, the power she had, the regality of her position in the world and her city where she was recognized and praised, at least by the people who weren’t her critics.
Morning broke through the massive windows of the room, illuminating the progress on the giant sandals. The thuds of intense quakes rocked the trailer though as Nyla already knew it was Kristen standing above the city. Nyla exiting the trailer, looking up at the miles tall woman looking back down at her footwear. Nyla a little nervous, but the hatred of the giant woman was the dominating emotion she felt still. Nyla noticed that Kristen looked confused, as if shocked that there were people on her shoes cleaning them. “HUH…” Kristen’s little hum boomed over the city, rattling the trailer behind Nyla.
Kristen appeared to have a tiny smile across her face as she stared down at her footwear. “I FORGOT I SAID TO DO THAT… BUT WOW…THOSE LOOK LIKE THEY’RE BRAND NEW!” Kristen’s voice echoed across the room, “NLYA… GOOD WORK” Kristen thundered. The approval Nyla needed, that she did a good job, that Braithe was saved, that Nyla could begin her mission on redeeming herself for her family and her reputation.
Nyla was escorted back to the nicest royal hotel in all of Braithe, the suite on the top floor like a miniature palace, it was actually nicer than any of the presidential offices Nyla had lived in during her tenure. Nyla took her time in the shower, combing her hair back over and over again in the hot water as she let the stress of not having a home melt away from her mind. Nyla wrapped herself in a lush robe and laid down in the bed fitted with the nicest sheets Braithe’s world had to offer. She fell asleep almost immediately in the cool, silky linens.
When Nyla woke up, she was greeted with a staff of servants presenting her with delicacy, food, and drink. The food was definitely not available to the regular citizens of Braithe, this was meant for kings and queens. Nyla devoured the food, not having a decent meal apart from scraps in quite some time.
Nyla then dressed herself within a massive closet of clothes of all sizes, picking out something similar to what she would have worn while president, a pantsuit, and some simple, short heels. When she exited into the lobby of the hotel, she was immediately bombarded by news stations, cameras, and crowds of common people from Braithe swarming her as bodyguards tried to hold people back. She was praised as a hero of Braithe, an overnight celebrity, people chanted her name claiming that she saved them from being stepped on by Kristen. Nyla smiled and waved to the people…
*** *** ***
Milya
Fortitude – Space Station
Milya huddled against a wall, hugging herself, floating for months on end without rescue. Her muscles were in atrophy, food and water was running quite low without a resupply. She tried to close her eyes for a second, just for a small moment of peace amidst the hopelessness. She kept hearing yelling coming from a module further down the space station. Milya covered her ears and tried to ignore the frantic yelling and screams, but she couldn’t press hard enough against her ears to totally block out the repeating and disturbing noise.
There were 6 crew members aboard the derelict space station. Ever since they witnessed Ostrov being ripped away from their home planet, the sudden imbalance of gravity and mass threw off the trajectory of the station’s path, causing them to float away from the planet with no chance of being saved as the planet was left in chaos below from their world’s most powerful nation disappearing. Left floating around a nothingness in the vast expanse of darkness.
They tried to figure out how or why it happened, how Ostrov disappeared, but nothing ever added up, no math or calculations made sense. “A cosmic accident” one crew member said, but that never made any of them feel better, Milya especially, watching her home country disappear from orbit. Milya being the only person onboard from Ostrov, could barely comprehend what had happened, wondering if her family was alive or dead.
One of her crewmates killed themselves about 3 months into being thrown out of orbit, letting himself suffocate in an isolated module without an air supply. The crew had to eject his body from the station. A week later, another crew member did the exact same thing, suffocating themselves, again having no choice but to eject the dead body. It had become apparent that life was truly hopeless aboard The Fortitude.
It had been over 9 months in total on the station only designed to last about 12 months without a resupply. The commander tried his best to remain stoic and calm, but even he was starting to crack and realize that there was no belief, trying to explain to Milya and the two crewmates that there was always a chance, but it wasn’t enough. The commander started to go crazy, everyone did to a certain point, trapped in small modules, having no sunrise and sunset, eating flavorless paste over and over, two of their friends dead, their planet likely in shambles, Milya’s family who knows where.
The commander was the next to go, so mentally disturbed that he threw himself out of the space station because he thought he saw a planet he could float to in his spacesuit, but there never was a planet. Milya left with the remaining two others, a man and a woman both from same country from their planet, a country that rivaled Ostrov in many ways. The man would proposition Milya for sex every so often, crying desperately over how lonely he was, but no matter how lonely Milya felt, she could never have done it, the male crewmember fucking the other woman anyway in secret, but noise carried very well in the tight domiciles.
Milya overheard them plotting to murder Milya while she slept, wanting the rest of the food and supplies just for themselves. Even if there was no hope, they were too scared to kill themselves and wanted what remained for their survival.
Milya still covering her ears until she heard nothing, unwrapping herself and pulling herself down a few modules, peering into the small port window to see her two cremates floating lifeless in the pod. Milya killing them first, having sabotaged their air supply while they ate, carrying their bodies to be ejected off the station. Going back to her own pod, hugging herself once more in the deathly quiet floating contraption. Left alone with her thoughts, memories of her family, of her life back on her planet, back in Ostrov. Her station tumbling and twirling through the stars as she closed her eyes and covered her ears once more.
A glowing and surging blue cloud in the far distance ahead of Milya’s path…
*** *** ***
Servitus
I don’t know what day it is or exactly how long we’ve been here. My girlfriend suggested I start writing, so… here it goes…
I decided to keep a journal because I’m having memory loss issues from lack of sleep, it’s not uncommon for people not to be sleeping, even if it’s been almost of year of being here in her room. It’s hard to get used to that thunderous shaking every time she walks around, we live on her time, and I fear that we always will. Her voice rattles our windows and rings our ears, her daughter’s cries at night echo throughout the massive house. We feel the tremors of her doing her workouts and exercises even if it’s a hundred miles away.
She controls the lights, sometimes she forgets to turn them off, I have blankets and towels over every window to keep it dark in my house so my girlfriend and I can at least try to get a full night of rest if she leaves them on, doesn’t she know she can set a time for them to turn off automatically? Fuck.
It frustrates me to no end when she takes a step right near Servitus and knocks down all of my window covers form the intense quake, sometimes it shakes me off my bed, or throws me off my couch. The worst was when I was taking a shower, just trying to get a moment of relaxation, Kristen took a step right outside the outskirts of our city to drop off food and I didn’t get the standard city-wide alert on my phone before I hopped into the bath, her footstep threw me out of my shower, and I broke my arm trying to catch myself from hitting my head.
I’ve actually heard that the really wealthy people of each city have been able to hire people to earthquake proof their houses, they are able to install noise blocking insulation as well. I don’t think I’ll ever be that wealthy. What’s the point of making money just to survive, why do we even use currency anyway? There’re miles tall women surrounding us, killing us like bugs just because they can, even if it’s an accident, fuck making money, but I have to. Currency is still around because we don’t have anything better to buy the foods and supplies that Kristen gives us each week. It’s how we survive. I go to the distribution center once every three weeks to pick up my box of rations and water.
I’m only 20, so there is still some hope to get some money, but at the same time, our lives are so fragile, Kristen could end thousands of lives with one of her toes if she wanted. It’s a weird dissonance of life to live in. I know some people who have committed suicide because they feel hopeless in this place, it broke people mentally. Kristen alone questioned everyone’s religion if they had any, the sheer power of life and death that she has over us makes people extremely anxious, there aren’t a lot of options for mental health as even the therapists of the city are usure of themselves.
We try out best to make life normal, we still have restaurants, people have jobs, we talk to our neighbors, people drive around, we have dinner, we have relationships, people gather at parks, we watch the news… but it’s like you know there is someone always watching with a giant pair of hazel eyes, someone that could kill you in an instant. There’s a weird social pressure to be more friendly here, people wave at one another, strangers who wouldn’t have done that before this all happened. It can make you act a little crazy sometimes, thankfully Kristen was able to establish a sort of authority, we still have lots and lots of crimes, but most people are calm knowing they might have to answer to her if they do something really malicious.
I saw some graffiti the other day on the side of a distribution center across town, it was a painted picture of Kristen with her arms crossed over her chest, her legs straddling the outline of a city, she had flaming red eyes looking down at the silhouettes of tiny shapes of people with a quote above her head, “Always Beneath Me”. The graffiti was cleaned off a few days later.
I actually have a job; this is how I make that money I’m talking about. I work at supply store, stocking groceries in the late evening. We all are pretty much required to have jobs, but a lot of jobs became useless when that freaky storm sent us to this gigantic room. People like accountants were basically forced into becoming stock managers for supplies and distribution to the people of the city, it didn’t matter anymore, really. Coincidentally, I was already working at a grocery store, so my current job is painfully the same, although, I was going to school, but every school shut down since the great rift.
I can say that Servitus is probably the city that is the best off compared to every other city here. We’re right in the middle of the room, all the pathways are leading out of here, many people consider us the capital now of the entire room. I can remember our old name, but Servitus is what we must call it now, people will look at you strange if you say the old name, of course, we’re named Servitus because of the big lady… we’ve seen so much death because of her… so it’s best to just do what she says.
I know Kristen doesn’t do these things on purpose, well… now she does it on purpose sometimes. I might be experiencing short term memory loss, but I will always remember that first night where she crushed that one city… Snowfield, or something… I think I remember; we still have some of their refugees now working on the pathways for horrible pay. She came in, we couldn’t believe our eyes. A monolith of a pregnant woman stepping all over a city that was maybe half the size of Servitus. I remember just grabbing my girlfriend and holding her while she had a panic attack. I’ll never forget seeing those buildings crumble under her feet… those screams… the shock… I still get anxious thinking about it.
Things like that are scary now, Kristen is starting to care less about us, but in weird ways. She’s doesn’t want to kill anyone but doesn’t care as much about accidental crushes or displaying her power over us anymore. She’s becoming sterner, what she says is what we have to do, she still leaves room for negotiations with our leaders, but it only sometimes works. She won’t outright step on anyone that defies what she says, but we’re not so sure anyone is safe. Making that one former president clean her sandals, that seemed to be a turning point for a lot of us mentally, thinking that we are probably going to be used for more than just cleaning her footwear and building her walkways.
I think it’s different in each city though, their attitudes towards her and how they view her. Maybe I’ll go to another place with my girlfriend one day just to visit and see how they are, well… not the twin cities by her chair. Serenity and Luxury are always right at the base of her toes every time she sits down… practically smelling her feet and nail polish constantly. I can’t imagine living that close to something like that all the time, seeing the soles of her feet looming right over where you live, the bottoms of her toes always looking like they’re going to come down right on top of you or tip over a building. It makes me shudder.
I also won’t be going to that city where they cleaned her sandals, I heard rumors it’s only a matter of time before Kristen makes them clean another pair. I also absolutely won’t go to Crest either, they’re fanatics for Kristen. I almost wish that one time their city was allowed to be destroyed in that invasion from Aker and General Werth’s military, although these days, people have been calling Aker, Clitsburgh. It started as a joke, Kristen’s evil sister, Leslie called Aker Clitsburgh, now it’s just what everyone says, as if slang.
My girlfriend has a much worse job than me, but she gets paid loads more than I will ever earn, this is why we have this house I’m writing in right now; she fronts the cost. I noticed she’s starting to go empty in her eyes lately, mentally I know she’s not doing well, much worse than the average person. I try my best to care for her, but her job takes a toll on her that I can’t even imagine how it must feel. She can’t leave her job either, it’s unfortunate, but that’s just how the law is now, and the prisons are awful.
She always on call, but when she does get that call, then she has to drive out to the middle of nowhere in the huge room with a small crew and scrape up all the dead and squished bodies from off Kristen’s floor. So, when someone gets stepped on, or falls off the pathways, or a plane explodes on Kristen anywhere in the vicinity of Servitus, she gotta shovel their remains into bags and bring them back to the city morgue. We all got assigned our jobs based on our experience, maybe the organizers of the city gave her that job because she was studying criminal science at our university where we met, she never wanted to see this level of gore though in her aspirations to be a detective.
She has seen such horrors, smears of people, barely recognizable apart from maybe the shape of what a human once was, completely flattened or exploded piles of gore and bloodstains. She could always tell when one half of a squished person was smeared against the floor and the other half was stuck to the bottom of Kristen’s foot. If the scene was gruesome enough, they could fit hundreds of bodies into their truck for recovery and DNA testing, whole bodies were never a thing, but it gave some families some level of comfort knowing at least what happened to their loved ones.
The stories she tells me… like that day Kristen’s sister came to visit. Leslie had crushed hundreds of construction workers on purpose under those horrible cheetah heels to prove a sickening point to Kristen. I can still see them towering above Servitus, looking up that bitch’s skirt, that smug look of arrogance and satisfaction when she ground her heel into all those innocent people. My girlfriend was right next to them when it happened, she came home covered in blood. For weeks, my girlfriend didn’t talk about it, but then she told me she wouldn’t have been alive if she was just a few dozen yards closer. She said she still hears the screams of all those people before watching them all crunch under those thick platforms.
She also saw Kristen accidentally flatten another crew. My girlfriend saw it all from high up, looking toward the floor from atop the pathways. Kristen entered the room unannounced, the workers on the floor didn’t have time to go for shelter and enact the safety protocols put in place to keep them from getting squished. She saw Kristen’s massive leg swing around, her barefoot looming over the crew of maybe 50 or so people. My girlfriend watching their little bodies disappear under Kristen’s foot, then she stepped down, her foot planting, her toes spreading slightly. She looked up to see that Kristen didn’t even notice what she had done, Kristen just kept walking toward her chair. You can see how this affects my relationship… every night she’s afraid to go to sleep because of the nightmares she has about being stepped on.
Imagine driving home on the highway every day, imagine your entire sky is another room, someone’s gigantic room… her black and gold chair forever in the background, dozens of miles tall. Then, even closer… a pair of high heels towering over everything, the smell of her feet becoming your air that you breathe every day while some poor crew from Braithe cleans them. Then you gotta go out there and scrape up bodies that barely have any remains… that’s what my love has to deal with every day… but I’ll be here for her every day until I die.
It feels good to get these thoughts out… but who knows how long I’ll be here… things are changing… and we all know Kristen is too… our future… I think… isn’t going to be lived for our benefit. I think it will be lived for Kristen’s… our goddess…