Garrick spent the day attentive, watching what he could use to crack the hardgum. Even after the night, the material was somewhat yielding and not hardened enough to splinter. The weight of all the enormous furniture would do a solid job, the issue was how he’d move any of it. All humans were protected by their connection and affinity for magic, so accidentally hurting himself wouldn’t be the issue. He needed a great force to throw himself under or in the line of, but everything around him was static. Only Liza moved, and if she ever applied great force to them, it was through a slow crush. Worn in her sandals, smothered under her ass, sandwiched between her thighs or breasts, she did a lot to them throughout the day, but none of it amounted to the explosive burst needed to crack it apart. Her flesh was too plenty and plum.

Moreover, as Garrick was taken to the blanket by the lakeside where her toes would cuddle with him as she stroked his manhood, he noticed the hardgum had already softened. The sweat and humidity which built up under her smothering flesh undid whatever callous had amassed.

This time he gave her toes the kisses she sought, and she stroked his manhood with it, smiling. “A lot of progress so soon. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes, Mommy.” The word was quiet under his breath. She wasn’t hurried in having him reach his orgasm, Liza drew the process out, the intention clear. All the pleasure from his dick was coupled with her toes fawning over him, and day after day she’d try to connect the wires in his brain which would marry her feet to his sense of pleasure.

However, during the session, he tried his to keep his arms out and around the toes, in view of the sunlight. Garrick also kept an eye on the mountains, searching for any prominent cliff or drop he could throw himself over to break the hardgum.

“Aah.” His focus dropped as climax approached.

“Open your mouth for Mommy.”

Garrick did, and the velvety flesh of her big toe crammed its way inside. She released his manhood right as he neared the brink, toes closing together to arrest his arms, leaving him no option but to thrust his manhood into her sole for a finish.

Liza giggled. “Such a cute little, warm drizzle.” She had her dress pulled up, two fingers inside her vagina. As Garrick’s efforts died down, her toes remained clamped around him, the ball of her foot twisting and spreading the gluelike semen between them. “Human seed really is the secret lotion. My lady friends often ask me how my feet are so moist and soft, and it’s all thanks to my slaves.”

Garrick tried to speak, her big toe turning all of it into mumbling. With a renewed sprawl and her foot relenting, his mouth parted from her toe with strands of drool. “Lady friends? You meet people, uhm, Mommy?”

“Of course I do.” She touched herself rather leisurely, not erupting into an outburst of ecstasy. “My slaves are my most precious, but it would still get lonely out here alone. I’m not a hermit, you know. In fact, we’re visiting town tomorrow.”

A flower of hope blossomed within him. “Town? You mean together, all of us?”

“Mommy and her slaves, yes.” Liza pulled the dress down over her knees, kicking her leg up and Garrick with it. He was loosely glued to her foot, and after a couple of toe-flexes which wrinkled her foot, he was released, landing on the blanket. Showing how she wasn’t kidding, Liza rubbed her soles together to spread the paucity of seed across them, genuinely using it like a lotion. “Mommy needs more. It’s your friend’s turn now.” Never with a lack of ways to humiliate him, Liza slotted him in between her ass cheeks, engulfed by her bubbly flesh.

His time in there was short, pulling him out in the hallway of the cabin. She opened the door of the room Garrick had never seen, and in there was Martin and Harry. She swapped Garrick for Martin and left.

“What is this place?” Garrick asked. The room had one window and plenty of candles, a strange, wooden gurney of sorts, with straps to hold one’s wrists and ankles, sized for giants, as if surgery was performed for giants here. Aside from that there was a narrow bench, about forty feet tall with a rounded, leather top. It looked more like vaulting bench used for an obstacle course than one to be sat on, tall enough to reach a giant’s waist. There were smaller wooden poles on the floor and two on the walls, slightly taller than a human and wide as a leg. Finally, there was a large cabinet, filled with boxes and bottles of lotion and candles and different kinds of ropes, and whatever else those closed compartments hid.

“This is where it gets wild,” Harry said. “When she’s really in the mood.”

“What about that table?” Garrick pointed to the thing with built-in leather belts, two at one’s arms and two down by the ankles. “It’s for giants.”

“I explained it to your friend this way: she has customers. Trusted friends who come here and enjoy themselves.”

“Enjoy themselves? You mean the way she uses us to enjoy herself?”

“That’s one way of putting it. They pay her handsomely as well.”

“How is this—” Garrick stopped himself before finishing the sentence. “I suppose it’s kept secret. A shady, underground business of sorts.”

Harry nodded.

“Hey, I had a thought.” Garrick took in his surroundings once again. “I’ve been looking for something to crack the hardgum, and I was thinking, does she ever stomp you? Any of the slaves, I mean.”

“Stomp?”

“Yes, a violent, crushing jab of her foot. It could serve as the force to break the hardgum, if I get it dry enough.”

There was no lighting up of Harry’s expression the way one would when presented with a good idea. He narrowed his eyes, shrugging. “It does happen. This may sound surprising given how tender she presents herself, but she can have a bit of a temper. It’s usually when a trusted slave misbehaves and she’s in a sour mood, a combination of things, and then she goes off, stomping after us. Then it’s every man for himself, we try to get away and wait it out.”

“Hmm.”

“She’s not predictably angry, you can’t just insult her and expect a stomp. What did you have in mind? Get a good hour of sunlight to make the hardgum dry, then anger her? It’ll be even more difficult for you and Martin to draw out her anger, since you’re new, and misbehaving is more expected.”

“Can you give an example of a time when she went on a tantrum?”

Harry rubbed his chin, watching the window. “There is one customer, Gloria, a young, pretty lady, nineteen years old. She’s stunning, like a princess out of a fairy tale. We worshipped her, and I can’t deny there isn’t a charged chemistry with Gloria. She’s beautiful and delicate, and I think Mommy notices how some of us were genuinely charmed by her. After Gloria left, Mommy wanted us to worship her. I think it was insecurity, honestly, she wanted us to lick all her doubts away, make us forget Gloria. But we were tired after that long session, our efforts were poor, and it just set Mommy off.”

“Jealousy.”

“Yes. She asked why we were so lackluster, no one had a good answer. She asked if our minds were on Gloria. You could see the rage building in her eyes, and before anyone said a word, she swatted and kicked us away, and then stomped us into the ground repeatedly.”

“Does Gloria come by often? She sounds like a surefire way of annoying Liza.”

“Not that often, no.”

Garrick returned to thought.

Harry put a hand on his shoulder. “Mate, I hope I’m not discouraging you. Trust me when I say I hope you succeed in finding a way. It’s been a breath of fresh air having you and your friend around, it’s brought me closer to normal. I hope you keep that fire going, instead of turning into the other four.”

“Don’t you worry. And also…” Garrick took Harry’s forearm, turning it into a brotherly handshake. “I’m doing this for you as well. I’m not trying to get myself out of here, not just Martin either, but you.” He glanced at the door. “The other four, I’m not sure. They seem gone.”

“They are.” Harry released his hand. “Slave Two, he’s an experienced mage.”

“What? He’s not wearing any hardgum!”

“I know. Him and Slave One are out collecting herbs and berries deeper in the mountains, and like loyal cows gone out grazing, they’ll return to their land at the end of the day. He can run, he chooses not to. They’re all like that.”

Garrick shook his head. “Damn.”

“Let’s make a promise,” Harry said. “No matter what happens, we’ll never end up like that.”

Garrick smiled, provided with a beacon of normalcy amidst this nonsense, and hope that, should all his plans collapse, should freedom never be granted him and he’d forever be Liza’s slave, there was something of worth in that life still. He clasped Harry’s hand. “Promise.”