“You’re sighing again.”

Altria’s words made Morgan’s eyebrow elevate in questioning doubt.

“No. I didn’t. I don’t sigh.”

Altria shook her head.

“I don’t mean outwardly. I mean internally. You even asked me of all people to talk with you late into the night because…what…Ritsuka didn’t go into bed with you tonight and you can’t find her.”

Altria face flushed as she vented to the silver-haired faerie of paradise. Some would consider Morgan, with her increased experience to be like a superior to the blonde faerie of paradise. Possibly an equal considering both of their feats throughout the many possibilities of Earth’s history. Although, the truth of the matter for these two was that there was some bad blood that existed. Past grievances that had been ameliorated through mutual understanding of the hardships they both had to endure. After all, they were both faeries of paradise. Distinct from other faeries in how they perceived the world and how they interacted with others. Thus, they treated their relationship like they were sisters who started off on the wrong foot.

Morgan sat herself proper as she received Altria’s emotional outburst. The former Queen of Faerie Britain was unperturbed by this short tirade.

“I’m not bothered by the fact that my master didn’t come to bed with me.”

Morgan crossed her arms and stared daggers at Altria.

“I’m bothered that my wife didn’t come to bed with me.”

This time Altria sighed.

Haaah~

Outwardly.

“Really Morgan. I couldn’t go to sleep because it’s blazing hot in here. You’d think that Chaldea would have tip-top AC units as the last bastion of humanity. After all, that is what humans are good at doing making stuff! No…I’m sweating bullets trying to roll under my covers. Debating if I should just go down to my skivvies, heck even take those off and let my knockers get a good feel of the balmy Chaldea air. But! No! My former mortal nemesis pops in my room because our master is elsewhere and drags me to this secluded recreational room. Do you know what humans do in this room? They recreate. Not create drama. We might as well scour the hallways. Master is probably sleeping on the floor like she always does. Do you know that is how Mash met her at first, sleeping on the floor…”

Since coming to Chaldea, and after the Lostbelt in Faerie Britain, Altria had become a lot more confident and comfortable around the Queen that she used to despise. Perhaps that was because this version of Altria was more than just herself from Faerie Britain. It might have also been because Queen Morgan, now that neither of them were an immediate threat to the other or were motivated by conflicting goals, was more willing to express her understanding to the fellow faerie of paradise. Instead of trying to put her through tribulation after tribulation. In fact, it was most likely a confluence of these two truths. As Altria was able to be free with her thoughts, instead of shivering under the regal authority of the Faerie Queen, and Morgan felt her heart elevate a little by the fact that Altria was willing to be this intimate with her. Even after all that happened to them in the past. It was a sign of growth for these two faeries.

Zzziipp

Morgan, while listening to her colleague blow off some steam. Began to unzip her boots. So that she would be able to remove her lower legs and soles from their heated entrapment.

Thunk

Zzziipp

Of course, the unveiling of pale slender legs, leading to a meaty foot with five fanning digits topped with blue nail polish on her nails, did not go unnoticed by Altria.

“What are you doing?”

Morgan gently moved her footwear to the side before extending her legs a bit under the table. The soft undersides of her feet pressed down into even floor. A floor that felt cool to touch and was refreshing for the faerie. As she fanned her toes, she felt the tiniest thing squeezed under the arch of her digits.

“You said it was hot.”

Its texture was slick and malleable. It wasn’t a utensil. Perhaps a toy that one of the children dropped. No, it was small, yet also big enough to be a choking hazard. 

Perhaps it is an accessory of someone’s wardrobe, or an adornment to a larger contraption.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The droning of thunder and a sudden seismic quake woke Ritsuka up. 

The shrunken woman’s body laid crumpled on the floor as her vision returned to her. She first noticed that artificial light that once created her sky was now gone. Now replaced by a starless ceiling. Then she was able to discern the patterned booms from up above. From the sounds of the deafening woman’s voice, it had to be Altria. As Ritsuka was certain that Morgan’s voice would be a hint huskier.

How would her voice sound at this scale?

Ritsuka tried to move, but then her body revolted. The shrunken woman’s gastrointestinal system worked against her as she felt herself retching. Fortunately, as the master was so busy with playing with Chaldea’s children servant today, she did not have the time to fill her stomach with food. Food that would have traveled up her throat, with a bitter sting, and poured out of her mouth as vomit. No, instead she felt phlegm get volleyed out. A translucent pool that neither of the gigantic faeries above would even notice even if they looked down.

It would take a microscope…would they even be able to see my face? With how thoroughly wrapped am I?

The master’s stomach ached. Needy for sustenance. She was hungry. Very hungry.

Ritsuka hesitated to test the strength of her bondage again. As she remembered the pain that shot through her joints when she did so. Although, that pain was eclipsed by the barreling truck of Morgan’s boot. An early death, that the shrunken woman was certain, she avoided thanks to the covering of the bondage.

Wait…is that Morgan’s boot right there?

Ritsuka noticed the instruments that knocked her unconscious. However, there was no leg attached to them in sight. Instead, she saw Morgan’s hands leave the structures. 

“YOU SAID IT WAS HOT.”

So that is what a husky giantess sounds like.

Ritsuka’s moment of humor, to manage the psychological stress that built up within her mind, would be of little help in face of the physical stress that her body was about to undergo. As the master’s tongue and nose were stimulated by a profoundly strong stench. The raw pheromones of the very woman, that she was supposed to have kinky and mildly dangerous sex with, consumed her senses. A scent that burned Ritsuka’s nares and suffused through her tastebuds as a flavored gas. It was just not the flavor that the shrunken woman would want to linger on her mouth too long. The world around her rumbled as the source of seismic activity neared Ritsuka. Her eyes widened as she saw the spreading battering rams. Bulbous masses of flesh that the master was more familiar with by another label. Queen Morgan’s toes.

Shit! This is not what I had in mind when I told her that I had a foot fetish!

Ritsuka tried to ignore the pain and roll away, but her body would not listen to her mind. Thus, the shrunken woman’s sensorium was inundated with the Queen’s overwhelming foot fragrance. As the arches under her toes, and the gaps between, enclosed around the master. Entrapping the shrunken woman within the oily embrace. 

Ritsuka wanted to hold her breath. To not breathe in a gas that was so dense from far away. However, the pressure of the toes that gripped the master did not take heed of the toy’s plight. They hugged her body to the point that she felt her insides squish. The tension releasing and increasing as the meaty extensions tested the shrunken woman’s endurance.

Oh god…

Finally, Ritsuka was utterly defeated, by some of the smallest parts of Morgan’s body. The shrunken woman’s mouth opened as she couldn’t endure the battering any longer. If the bondage didn’t bruise her then this might have. However, that was a point of no return. As the foot’s odor plunged into Ritsuka’s open orifices. At a much faster rate than when just her nose was open to allow for passive diffusion. A haze enveloped the master’s mind as her head was emptied of thought. Except for one.

Just that she was hungry. 

Very hungry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgan rolled the squishy object underneath the ball of her foot. The Queen drummed the pads of the firm surface against the little mystery that she claimed for herself. Even if it were a possession of another servant or Chaldea staff member, it had already contacted her regal sole. Why not continue to sully it with the underside of her sole’s skin, and whatever was caught there, when it seemed to have gravitated to the flesh by a chance of fate. It was her toy now. For her to use and abuse as she pleased.

Morgan rolled the toy along the length of her foot. Until it landed underneath her lifted heel. The faerie brought down the roundest and most unrelenting portion of her foot until it made contact. The mystery object, her foot toy, recoiled as the Queen forced her heel down. To mold the object’s form to her will and might. It was soothing for the silver-haired faerie of paradise. As there was a more deeply rooted reason that Morgan had called Altria out tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ritsuka’s mind searched for an escape, and it found one. It just wasn’t a physical one. 

The shrunken woman, now in a position at a much smaller scale that any human ever existed, was exposed to a powerful stimulus. Such that it consumed her world. It would be hard to describe how the aerosolized fumes of Morgan’s previously booted foot wiped the master’s mind clean. As that would, in a way be a mental death. That is what happened to Ritsuka. Her eyes dilated, her throat swelled to the point that it nearly shut, and her body convulsed again. As if it was hit by Morgan’s boot once more. That was the devastating effect that the Queen’s pristine foot had on the master. However, the master still possessed will. She still recognized, to an extent, the booming voices above and the emotions that she held for them. 

Even though Ritsuka’s mind was scrambling to put the pieces together, the baser parts of her mind were focused on another matter of importance. The need to sate the growling in her belly, and to express the adoration for the figure that she associated the leviathan of flesh with.

Morgan…

That was the only word that filled the mind-broken toy as she was pulled under by the toes and pressed down by a wider whorled surface. The shrunken woman’s primal mind forced her body forward. Ignoring the pain, she dove her tongue and nose into the grooves of the unforgiving surface. Licking up and inhaling the microscopic grime and collecting the sweat from Morgan’s sole.

Morgan.

The balls pressed down on the toy with a greater force. Before relenting, and then repeating again. The slight softness of the bulging surface tightened. Thereby bruising the shrunken woman. Putting pressure on her skeletal framework. Yet, she continued to service the flesh. Even after her tongue gained a thick layer of grime. The toy simply paused, as the sweaty ball of the foot rose, and swallowed the vinegary gruel down. Her hunger increasingly placated with each deep amorous kiss that she shared with the bottom of Morgan’s foot. The toy knew that she was blessed by this gunk that colored her tastebuds with bitter flavors of salt. Blessed to be in the same realm of this rubbery skin that always accepted her attention. 

Thus, the toy continued her worship.

Even as she was shifted again. The balls ground the toy’s body down, compressed her ribcage, and forced her to the next section of foot flesh. The tight skin was now replaced by rippled waves of flesh. An underside of Morgan’s foot that more readily collected the gunk from her boot’s insole. It was this sweat-infused lint that the toy dove into with gusto. Her stomach became stuffed as the salty oils around her increased in prominence. The toy’s unwavering worship was rewarded with an increased pooling of perspiration from the faerie’s sole. 

Morgan…full…

It didn’t help that her body was moved along the expanse of wrinkled meat without rest. There was always more disgusting sole swill to clean off the one she loved. It reached a point that the toy’s stomach screamed. It pleaded the carnal portion of the shrunken woman’s mind to cease. That didn’t happen until a different appetite was sated. As each wrinkle of the underside of the Queen’s foot has grazed over the bondage that wrapped the toy’s loins. Stoking the moist fire within them and carrying the shrunken woman closer to the edge.

Oh…pain…Morgan…

The toy tried to tend to it with her bound hands, but they were enveloped in a different burn. Having been rubbed raw through the bondage by Chaldea’s floor. Thus, the shrunken woman had to wait until the faerie’s sole saw fit to award her with a release. 

That finally happened when she reached the final stretch of Morgan’s foot. A rounded surface that was a little darker than the rest of the pale landscape. It lacked the waves of the center of the faerie’s foot. Like her ball, but much larger. The bare heel, pale as the moon, lifted for a moment. To let the stuffed shrunken woman underneath it. Her belly throbbed, her eyes widened, and her crotch, which couldn’t be attended to this entire time by the toy’s bound hands, burned hotly. Then the pale moon came down on her.

THUD

The toy’s mind exploded as the pressure compressed each of the bumps of her form. Especially crushing her breasts, down to her ribcage, and then forcing that skeletal cage against her lungs. Any of the stale foot odor that the shrunken woman was able to inhale during the worship of the Queen’s foot was expelled. The toy’s body jerked up and along the curves of the rounded heel to preserve the important organs of her body. In contrast, the ravenous aspects of the shrunken woman’s mind craved these tons of pressure. It was a stimulation that was the paramount of what had rendered the toy’s mind obsolete in the first place. 

Finally, when her bones began to creak, moments before irreversible damage was done, the toy orgasmed. The resulting climax overwhelmed the shrunken woman’s senses in a blinding light. Sense of smell, taste, touch, sight, and even hearing was eliminated. All she could feel was her body stiffening rhythmically as her body was overwhelmed by a mountainous force. The essence of the toy’s womanhood spilled out into the latex covering, seeping into the material, and the mind of the master finally returned. A result of the shrunken woman entering a state of post-coital clarity. 

Ritsuka’s endangered mind was finally able to acclimate. The master’s higher cognitive functioned returning, at possibly the worst moment possible.

What…what’s happening!

Ritsuka’s head throbbed as her recent memories pulsed through her mind.

Shit…what—

The master did not have time to finish that thought as she found her body was being shuffled back up along the length of Queen’s pale sole. Morgan’s milky skin folds wrapped and squeezed the shrunken woman. Thereby, coloring Ritsuka’s respirations with a fiery pain. Tears filled the shrunken woman’s eyes as she felt herself struggle to breathe in the tainted air. The latex that covered the master’ body felt heavier than ever now. As her body was beaten and trodden upon by the silver-haired faerie’s foot folds. 

The beefy ceiling pulsed warmly. Releasing a splash of liquid brine that doused the shrunken woman’s face. Without the ability to move her body away, or the will to suck that swill down once more, Ritsuka was practically waterboarded by the Queen’s foot sweat. The only reason that the sole’s oils had not drowned the shrunken woman was because she was constantly being thrust forward. Back to the towering toes that brought the master into this hell under the silver-haired faerie of paradise. 

It was a cycle of torture. With each clench and drag of Ritsuka’s body between the meaty sole folds, she either sucked in tainted air or pheromone dense brine. Both gas and liquid contaminated her lungs. By displacing the essential oxygen and blood that bathed her lung’s alveoli.

Morgan…Please stop.

Ritsuka’s head felt like someone was forcing a barbed headband against it. The heavy thrum of agony consumed the shrunken woman’s mind as she was put back under the drumming balls of Morgan’s feet. Taut slick flesh that battered the master once more. A desire to escape this pain was ever-present within the back of the shrunken woman’s mind. Thoughts that Ritsuka tried to push back down, as she was finally thrusted into the relatively freeing space underneath Morgan’s toes. 

For, if the shrunken woman did submit to those weak thoughts, then she would find herself back in that feverish state of worship. The shame that filled the master from the itching sensation in her loins was not what worried her. Rather, it was the thought that if she lost herself again, that she would not be able to come back.

No.

Ritsuka’s eyes widened as the toes spread and lifted. The bulbous digits showed a sight that caused the shrunken woman, restrained by latex and warm flesh, to violently shudder. It was a pale obelisk. One of similar appearance to the very one that she was entombed in right now. A horrid premonition filled the master’s mind.

No…is Morgan going to roll me underneath the other one…does she think that I’m just some toy.

All that Ritsuka had was the horror of independent thought and an unmoving body. With her body restrained and energy drained of all energy, the shrunken women mentally screamed as she was thrust forward. The master’s body sliding and rolling. 

Ritsuka’s fear-filled eyes caught a glimpse of the approaching pale mountain of Morgan’s foot with each rotation of her body. However, life for the shrunken woman took another drastic turn. As the world darkens around her. 

Instead of a milky soft skin wrapping around her, it was a rougher, closer to leather, and peachy complexion of sole meat.

THUD!!