It's starts off as a pretty good dream, because Naomi is my size. I'm ready to beat the crap out of her for everything she's ever done. But I hear Kim's sing-song voice in the background chanting "Girls that are tall get taller, boys that are small get smaller," and I suddenly feel myself falling away as Naomi gazes down at me with that hard, horrible smile of her.
"Until one is the tallest and one is the smallest of all." The sole of Naomi's sandal hovers over me, then slams down with a sickening crunch.
Sunday morning finally comes, after a night of fitful dozing and horrible dreams. Naomi is the first up, and wishes me a cheerful good morning as she walks past my dollhouse on her way to the kitchen. Nicole is next, and she invites me to come watch TV with her until breakfast is ready. I accept, and she carries me gently into the living room.
Paul comes staggering in a few minutes later in his bathrobe and boxers, scratching at his unruly hair. His pompadour is disheveled and jutting out in all directions. Nicole sees him and giggles.
"Nice hair, Daddy," she says. Paul grunts something unintelligible as he stumbles out the front door in search of the paper. A few minutes later, he's back with it and sitting at the dining room table. Naomi brings him a cup of coffee and kisses him on the cheek. I swear, this fucking family is bipolar.
"Do you want to play on my feet?" Nicole asks me suddenly, startling me.
I stare at her. "What?"
"I just thought you might want to because... you know... you like it and all," she says, looking away. "I mean, if you want to."
God, how did it go from being a private fantasy to common knowledge? Is there anybody that doesn't know about my stupid fetish? I think of Suzy, and I suddenly find myself in panic mode. What if she were to find out? What would happen if Nicole told her my dirty little secret? I swear, I think I would die of shame...
Nicole has brought her bare foot up to rest on the edge of the couch, and is slowly moving me toward it. "No!" I shout, twisting in her grasp. Flinching as if I'd slapped her, Nicole puts her foot back on the floor and holds me up to her face. She looks sad and hurt, sort of like Naomi did last night before she started torturing me. I pray I haven't lost my only ally in this house.
"I'm sorry," she says sadly. "I just wanted to play with you, and I thought..."
I touch her finger with my hands and smile as sweetly as I can. "No, I'm sorry, Nicole. I didn't mean to yell at you. I just... I don't like that game, okay?"
"You don't like feet?" She looks puzzled. "Momma and Cheryl said you did. And so did Kim."
"They like playing with me," I tell her. "And I have to, because I'm too small to stop them."
"I bet they'd quit if you asked them to," Nicole says.
I shake my head. "They don't care. It's just a game to them, and they don't care if I like it or not. They're not like you." I look up hopefully, feeling like a manipulative heel. I've got to keep her in my corner.
"You want me to tell Momma to stop?" she asks me, and my stomach lurches. If I thought Naomi was pissed last night, I can only imagine how much her head would spin around if Nicole confronted her.
"No, that's okay. I'll explain it to her myself," I tell her. "I want to do it without hurting her feelings, like I hurt yours a minute ago."
"Oh, you didn't," she says, smiling at me. "Can I still hold you?"
"Yeah, I'd like that," I tell her. She lowers me down and holds me in her lap, stroking me lovingly with her fingers. I sigh with a combination of pleasure and relief.
Over breakfast, Paul and Naomi have a disagreement. Paul doesn't want to be around when Louise and Alan get here because "that big, goofy sonuvabitch gives me the creeps." Besides, he's supposed to meet Walt at Harrigan's Sports Bar to watch the Astros play, and it's not fair he should have to cancel his plans just because these SPECTRUM people got a bug up their ass and decided to come.
Naomi, of course, doesn't like the idea of being left alone with them, so Paul suggests that she come with him. For one blind, crazy moment, I pray that she will. Of course, it's futile. There's no way in hell Naomi would leave me alone with Louise and Alan. I'm sure she'll be there every minute of their visit, looming in the background, making sure I remember what's in store for me if I blab too much.
Naomi pretty much tells Paul this verbatim, and tells him he needs to stop shirking his responsibility because I'm his son and she's tired of having to do all the work to take care of me, yadda, yadda, yadda.
Nicole watches all of this like it's a tennis match, her head swinging back and forth between Naomi and Paul. Poor, sweet Nicole. She's the only thing that makes this place remotely tolerable. And it seems like all her parents ever do anymore is fight, usually over me.
Paul finally acquiesces and grumpily heads into the bathroom to shower and change. Nicole heads into her room to get ready, and Naomi clears the table and goes into the kitchen to wash dishes.
I'm sort of relieved Paul is sticking around, because it keeps Naomi on her best behavior. And after last night, I'm dreading any more alone time with her.
As if reading my mind, Naomi walks over to my dollhouse. I hear her coming, and I watch out my window, hoping she'll just walk on by. Her blue terrycloth robe fills my view completely, and my house trembles as she runs her toes along the plastic exterior.
"Are you done with your breakfast, Ray?" she asks. I hear her slipper hit the floor, and her toes suddenly poke through the window. She wiggles them playfully, gripping the plastic window frame between them. The entire house shakes from the movement of her foot.
"Yeah, I'm done," I shout to her.
"Good. Bring your plate out here."
You see, it's all part of her new torture. No more moving my house away from the wall. No more grabbing me. No more chasing me down, or pinning me to the floor with her foot. Now, I'm supposed to supplicate myself to her willingly and ask nicely for her to humiliate me. And the worst part is that smug smile on her face when I submit.
So why do I do it, you may ask. Why don't I fight her? Well, besides the obvious bodily health reasons, I suppose willing submission is the only way I can salvage a shred of my dignity. If I "let" her win, then I can at least pretend like it was my choice, like I had some control in the matter. If I struggle, then she just makes me do whatever she wants anyway and any sense of control is shattered.
Never underestimate the power of denial.
So I carry my plate out the front door just in time to see her slide her foot back into her pink slipper. She stands there for a second, relishing as always the sight of me helpless at her feet.
"Do you remember what we talked about last night?" she asks me.
I nod. "Yes ma'am."
"Good." She bends down and places her hand on the ground. I step into her palm and let her lift me. She carries me into the kitchen and sets me down on the counter. I hold out the plate, and she gently takes from me with her finger and thumb, rinses it off, then sets it with the others.
"As soon as your daddy's done in the bathroom, you and I can go get cleaned up."
Once again, she's managed to get me out of the house without my swimsuit. I undress nervously as she watches, wondering if today will be the day when she insists on showering together. Fortunately, she draws my bath in the sink and sets me in it, leaving me to bathe in relative privacy while she showers.
I lather up, rinse, repeat, then sit there in nervous silence, waiting for her to finish. No doubt it'll be another rousing game of Dry Momma's Feet once she gets done. There's a lot to be said for a routine; no matter how appalling you find it, at least you know what to expect.
Naomi cuts off her shower and comes out, drying herself off. I can't see anything of course, but I can hear the towel rubbing her skin as she approaches. Her face appears suddenly, looming over me and grinning.
"Are we nice and clean?" she asks, shaking her head. Her damp blonde hair slings over me like a pendulum, sprinkling me with large drops of water.
I nod and stand up, shivering in the cold air. She reaches down and grabs me around the waist between her finger and thumb, but she doesn't lift me up.
"I don't know," she says, shaking her head. "This is a special occasion, and I'd hate for your friends to think I wasn't taking care of you. Maybe we should put you through one more cycle."
She dips the fingers of her free hand into the water, then runs them along the bar of soap. Still holding me, she rubs her soapy index finger along my body, lingering over my privates a little too long. She presses her finger between my legs, grinning when I let out an involuntary moan.
"You naughty little thing," she scolds me playfully, flicking at my erection with her fingernail. "I swear, you've got a one track mind." She continues to rub me, covering me with lather.
"Hold your breath," she says. I puzzle that for a second, then barely have time to take in a lungful of air before she dunks me under the water. She holds me under, her fingers rubbing and stroking relentlessly as I flail and kick for a breath.
Just before I black out, I feel myself being lifted up and out of the sink. I'm lying in her palm, coughing and sputtering.
"Poor baby," she says, holding up a dry washrag. "Let's get you dried off." She lays me in the center of it, then wraps it around me entirely. For nearly a minute, her fingers buffet me painfully through the rag. The rough fabric scrapes against my skin, down my chest and along my back. My shouts are muffled by the rag, not that they would do any good.
Finally, it stops. Naomi sets me down so she can slip into her bathrobe. Then she scoops up me along with my pajamas and carries me back to my dollhouse. She sets me down at my front door, dropping my pajamas at my feet.
"Make sure you put on something nice," she says, watching me smugly. "I want you to look good for your friends." I eye her feet nervously as I back away, clutching my pajamas to my chest. They're to either side of me, bare and still damp from the shower.
She sees me looking, and giggles. "My God, you're insatiable, aren't you?" She raises her right foot and lets it hover over me. "Better get inside before I squish you."
I turn and scramble for the front door, fumbling to get it open with my arms full. I drop my pajamas to the floor and finally tug the door open. I bolt inside and spin around just in time to see her foot come down just outside the doorway. She grasps my pajamas between her toes and holds them up to me.
"You dropped something," she says. Cautiously, I step to the threshold and take hold of my pajamas. I tug a couple of times before she finally lets go, sending me stumbling backwards. I kick the front door closed and lay there, listening to Naomi chortle as she walks away.
I finally sit up and throw my pajamas against the plastic wall where the fake fireplace burns with an illustrated flame. I'm mad at Naomi of course, for putting me through all that. But I'm also mad at myself because once again, in spite of my best efforts, I'm sporting a pretty serious erection.
Sunday after lunch, and I'm pacing around on the coffee table. I'd really rather be in my dollhouse, but Naomi wants to make sure that I'm out among the family when Louise and Alan get here.
She's really nervous about them coming, and is desperate to make a good impression for some reason. It's like she wants to prove to them that she and Paul did the right thing by taking me away from SPECTRUM, and she expects them to be dazzled by this happy family that I've joined.
At Naomi's insistence, Paul and Nicole are dressed in their Sunday clothes. Personally, this strikes me as a tad ironic; other than Paul's half-assed attempts at saying grace, the Daltons haven't struck me as a particularly religious family. In fact, I'd be hard pressed to describe them to anyone without using the words "hellish" and "evil."
Paul is sitting in his recliner, shifting uncomfortably in his suit. He keeps yanking at his collar, obviously unaccustomed to the tightness of his necktie. He is surrounded by a cloud of Aqua Velva that stings my eyes whenever it wafts my way.
Nicole sits on the couch behind me, fidgeting almost as much as Paul. I know she'd much rather be lying in the floor, but she's wearing a flowery cotton dress and Naomi's afraid she'll get it wrinkled. Besides, Naomi says, nice girls don't wallow in the floor.
Naomi, I should add, has gone all out with a pink motif. She's wearing a short pink dress and a pair of strappy pink high heels that compliment her nails. She's also wearing matching pink lipstick and has a pink ribbon in her hair. She would have probably dyed her hair pink if she hadn't run out of time.
Like me, she's also pacing back and forth. It's gratifying to see her so nervous, so out-of-control of the situation for once. It's hard to believe this is the same woman that was tormenting me so casually this morning.
As for me, I'm dressed in what passes for formal wear at my height. Basically, it's a pair of black trousers and a blue long-sleeve turtleneck. It's unbearably hot, but Naomi insisted that I wear it. My hair is plastered down with a microscopic dollop of Paul's pomade.
"How come I have to sit here?" Nicole whines. "They're Ray's friends, not mine."
Naomi glares at her. "If you ask me that one more time, you're grounded," she snaps. "Now just sit there and be quiet."
Nicole gives me a dirty look, yet another in a long line of them. She blames me for this tedious afternoon and wants to make sure I know it. I ignore her and continue pacing.
"I think it's stupid," Paul mutters. "Why are we trying to impress these Nazi bastards, anyway? They should be trying to impress us."
Naomi lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Is it too much to ask that we just sit here together like a normal goddamn family? Is it?"
Paul looks away from her and regards his dress shoes, fuming but reluctant to speak. Nicole waits for Naomi to look away as well, then sticks her tongue out at me. I continue to ignore her.
My pacing is brought to an abrupt halt when Nicole sets her sandaled foot on the table, blocking my path. Her heel is resting on the edge, and her toes wiggle playfully above my head. She sets her other foot on the table behind me. "You're trapped now," she says with a mischievous giggle. I grin back to let her know there are no hard feelings, then slide my hand between the smooth skin of her sole and her shoe. I brush my fingers along the bottom of her foot, and she lets out a single snort of laughter. She slides her foot sideways, nudging me and knocking me away.
"Nicole!" Naomi shouts. "Get your feet off the table and leave your brother alone!"
Nicole puts her feet on the floor and smirks at me. I roll my eyes and shake my head in an exaggerated pantomime to let her know that I'm annoyed with Naomi too. Nicole grins and nods. We're conspirators, she and I, and as long as we're united against Naomi, Nicole won't have any reason to turn on me.
Diplomacy is a must when you're the size of an action figure.
The doorbell finally rings, and Nicole leaps up off the couch. "I'll get it," she calls as she runs across the living room.
"Nicole, sit down!" Naomi shouts. Nicole plops back down on the couch behind me, but I've already run to the edge of the table. Naomi walks over to the front door and opens it.
"Hello, Ms. Dalton," says a familiar voice. My heart is suddenly pounding and I feel like I'm going to faint. It's Louise! "We're here to see Ray."
"Of course," Naomi says, a tad icily. "Please come in." Naomi walks back into the living room, followed by Louise and Alan.
It's only been a couple of weeks, but I feel tears welling up at the sight of them. Louise is even more beautiful than I remembered. Her dark hair hangs loose, bouncing around her shoulders. Her beautiful brown eyes dart around the room, before finally settling on me. She rushes over to me and scoops me up gently, pressing me to her cheek.
"Oh, sweetheart, I've missed you so much," she whispers. I notice her cheeks are wet with her own tears as well as mine. I touch my hand to her warm, smooth skin and kiss her. I sell my soul if I could freeze time right at this moment.
"Hey there, pal," Alan says, walking in behind her. He's carrying a large duffel bag emblazoned with the SPECTRUM logo, a beam of light passing through a prism and being diffused into a rainbow. It bears a remarkable similarity to the album cover of Dark Side of the Moon, although Gary used to assure me that SPECTRUM had been around a lot longer than Pink Floyd.
He sets the bag down, then holds out his hand, extending his finger towards me as I sit in Louise's cupped palm. I hold out my hand palm up, and he gently slaps it with the tip of his finger. He then turns his finger over, and I slap the tip of it.
"You poor thing," Louise says, studying me. "You're skin and bones. Aren't they feeding you?"
"Of course we are," Naomi snaps. "I'm a good cook, right Ray?"
What am I going to say? I nod and say, "Yeah, she's great," without much enthusiasm.
Paul is up out of his chair. He shakes hands with Louise and Alan, then turns to Nicole, who is sitting somewhat sullenly on the couch.
"Nicole, this is Dr. Herndon and Mr. Mackey. They're friends of Ray's from SPECTRUM."
Nicole stands and offers them a pretty curtsy. "It's very nice to meet you," she says formally. A look of relief washes over Naomi's face.
"You don't look like Nazis," Nicole adds. Naomi blushes furiously in the sudden awkward silence. Paul lets out a nervous cough.
"Uh, why don't you go play in your room now, Nicole," Naomi suggests, struggling to maintain a pleasant voice.
"Good idea," Paul says, laughing an uncomfortable laugh. Nicole eagerly obeys, calling out, "Okay, bye!" over her shoulder as she runs off down the hall.
Louise and Alan look amused by the whole thing. Paul seems a little on edge, but Naomi just looks mortified. Her smile is plastered on her face, unflinching.
"Kids," she finally says, punctuating it with a fake laugh.
"I know," Louise says, touching me gently with her index finger. "I remember how this one used to be."
For another awkward moment, the four of them stand in silence. Then Paul makes a big production of checking his watch. "Oh yeah, Naomi. I almost forgot. I've got that appointment with Walt."
Naomi glares at him angrily, her smile still intact. "Appointment?" she asks through gritted teeth. "What appointment is that, honey?"
"You know," Paul says. "Walt and I have that thing this afternoon."
"What about our guests, honey?"
"I'm sure they won't mind," he says. "They came to visit with Ray, not me. Right, guys?"
Louise and Alan exchange amused glances. Louise says, "Oh, if you've got somewhere to be, Mr. Dalton, please don't let us keep you."
"Right," Alan adds. "If you prefer, we can take Ray somewhere else for our visit..."
"I wouldn't hear of it," Naomi says with another forced laugh.
"Okay, then," Paul says, waving cheerfully as he walks to the front door. "You folks take it easy and have a safe drive back." He stops to kiss Naomi on the cheek; her fists clench and her eyes grow narrow, but she says nothing. Paul strips off his tie and leaves the house. "Bye now," he calls to us.
"Auf Wiedersehen," Alan calls after him in an atrocious German accent.
"How are they treating you?" Louise asks me, still cradling me in her palm. She's sitting at the dining room table, sipping coffee from Naomi's finest china. Alan sits across the table from her, holding a glass of ice water. And Naomi, well... she's never far from us.
"It's terrible," I whisper to her. "These people are..." I trail off as Naomi enters the room and asks Louise if she needs a refill.
"No, thank you," Louise says. We sit there silently, waiting for her to leave. She finally does, and I finish whispering. "They treat me like I'm some kind of pet. And Naomi..."
She's suddenly there again, standing behind Alan, smiling benevolently at me. It's a smile that makes me shiver, in spite of the heat.
"I understand," Louise says, touching my face with her finger. It's a reassuring touch, one I've missed so much it makes me ache inside. "I'm sure there are some things you'd rather not discuss right now," she says to me as she glares at Naomi. "But I promise you, we're doing everything we can to get you back, sweetheart."
"Amen to that," Alan says, grinning his goofy grin. "You'll be home again in no time, pal."
Naomi clears her throat. "He is home. Remember, Paul is his father."
"Biologically," Louise adds, rather pointedly. She and Naomi stare, both refusing to look away.
"Hey, come on, ladies," Alan says cheerfully. "You're making me and Ray uncomfortable."
Naomi glares at me, and I tremble. Louise wraps her fingers around me protectively.
"Besides, we brought gifts," Alan says, unzipping the duffel bag. He reaches in and pulls out an insulated box, also marked with the SPECTRUM logo. He pops the lid off of it, and a blast of cold air escapes. Inside are dozens of small, white containers, roughly the size of a pat of butter.
"Alice figured you might be missing her cooking, so she made you these little dinners," he says. "Lasagna, pot roast, and a bunch of those little pizzas you like so much."
My mouth waters and my stomach growls at the mention of Alice's cooking. She's always been an incredible cook, but she used to take great pains to make sure that my meals looked appetizing to me. I guess I always took her for granted... I never really appreciated all the effort she went through until I sampled Naomi's fare.
Alan hands the container to Naomi and says, "You can just keep them in the freezer until you're ready to cook one. Then 30 seconds in the microwave should do it."
"Okay, I'll remember that," Naomi says, smiling sweetly as she takes the box from Alan and carries it into the kitchen.
"Okay, let's see what else," Alan says, rummaging through the bag. "Let's get the boring stuff out of the way first." He sets down several stacks of clothes, all specially tailored for me. Shirts, pants, underwear, socks, and a couple pairs of shoes... No sooner has he set them down than Naomi snatches them up. "I'll just put these in your house for you, Ray," she says, emphasizing the word "house" to let Alan and Louise know that they're taking good care of me.
Alan reaches into the bag, and pulls out a device roughly the size of his hand. It's a flat, rectangular box with a screen along the top and a numeric keypad underneath.
"Movie viewer," Alan says excitedly, setting it down on the table. Louise lowers her hand to the table surface and allows me to step out of her palm. I walk over to the device and press the eject button. A tray pops out of the side, about waist high.
"This is great!" I exclaim. "Any movies to go with it?"
"Of course." Alan reaches into the bag and sets down a stack of minidisks. Each one is the size of a quarter, but quite light and easy for me to lift. I count fourteen.
"We got you all the Star Wars movies," Alan says. "Plus a few chick flicks that Louise insisted you like."
Louise kicks him under the table. "'Gone with the Wind' is not a chick flick," she says indignantly. "Besides, Ray does like it. Don't you, sweetheart?"
I nod. "It's one of my favorites," I say. Of course, that might be because I used to watch it with her, lying safe and secure in her cupped palm, peering over the edge of her hand at the movie. I remember she used to cry at the part where Scarlett's daughter died, and I would gaze up at her lovely face and marvel at her tears in the flickering light of the movie. I would stroke her finger, trying desperately to comfort her, and she would look down at me and beam with such affection. I was desperately in love with her then, and I suppose I always will be to some degree.
"And I put 'Pulp Fiction' in there too," Alan says with a wink.
Louise shakes her head. "Alan, I told you no 'R' movies."
He shrugs. "It's a classic, right pal?"
I nod enthusiastically.
"And one last present..." Alan reaches into the bag, then stops. "I think you need to be on the floor for this one," he says. Louise places her hand on the table, and I climb into it. She lifts me gently up and over, then sets me down on the carpet, between her feet. She's wearing black pumps, plain and perfunctory. Even so, being this close to her foot makes me tingle with nervous excitement.
I look over towards Alan's black dress shoes, shined to military perfection. "Sally made this just for you," Alan is saying. "She told me to let you know that she really wanted to have it for your 16th birthday, but ran into a little trouble getting it ready on time. Anyway..." He bends down and sets the last gift on the floor before me.
A car! It's a car, my size, made of metal and molded plastic! It's built like a dune buggy, with oversized tires and a roll bar protecting the cockpit. The chassis is bright yellow, with red flames along the side. I run over to it and peer inside. A steering wheel, a gearshift, and a leather seat! I touch the seat, marveling at how soft it feels. There's even a seatbelt inside! Mounted behind the seat is a battery half again my size.
"What is it?" Naomi calls, clomping over on her pink high heels. She stops just inches from the car and nudges it with her foot. "Aww, what an adorable little thing," she coos. I stare angrily, resenting her for the intrusion.
"Hey, be careful," Alan tells her. "That's a delicate piece of machinery."
"Well, aren't you going to try it out?" Naomi asks, grinning down at me.
"Why don't we give him some room?" Louise suggests. Naomi takes the hint and takes a couple of steps back. I climb into the car and slide down into the seat. It fits me like a glove! The steering wheel is sized just right for my hands, and my feet just reach the two pedals on the floorboard.
"Right one's the gas, left one's the brake," Alan says. "It's got two speeds... forwards and backwards," he adds with a laugh.
I push the gearshift forward and press down on the right pedal. The car lurches forward over the carpet, straight towards Naomi's foot. I turn the wheel sharply to avoid running into her.
"How adorable!" Naomi squeals, clapping her hands as I shoot past her. The engine whines as I pick up speed. The tires bump mercilessly across the carpet, but I barely feel the bumps thanks to Sally's incredible suspension.
I speed into the living room and turn sharply, weaving between the legs of the coffee table. The response of this thing is incredible! I touch the brakes to slow down slightly, then turn around and make my way back to the dining room. I come to a perfect stop right where I started and climb out.
"I love it!" I call up to Alan and Louise. "Tell Sally it's the best present I've ever gotten!"
Louise reaches down and gently scoops me up, lifting me to the table again. "Thank you," I say, kissing her finger. "Thank you both," I add, waving to Alan.
It's the happiest I've been in a long time, and my joy is marred only by the knowledge that it's going to end soon. In a little bit, Louise and Alan are going to have to leave and I'll be left with Naomi.
Six o'clock comes, and Naomi comes in and apologizes for breaking up the party, but she needs to start dinner.
"Can't they stay a little longer, please?" I ask her. "Maybe they can stay for dinner."
Naomi shakes her head. "Sorry, sweetie. But I'm sure they'll come and see you next month."
"How about next week?" I ask, clinging to Louise's finger. I can't bear the thought that I'll have to let go of it anytime soon.
Alan sighs. "Pal, if I could, I'd come every day. But until this court case gets settled, I'm afraid we only get one Sunday each month."
A whole month! Take however long I've been here, double it, and that's how long I'll have to wait before seeing them again. I look over at Naomi and see her watching me with some small amusement. She really enjoys making me miserable, doesn't she?
Louise lifts me to her cheek for a hug, and I whisper fiercely, "Take me with you! Please, get me out of this place!"
"I wish I could, sweetheart," she whispers back, tears streaming down her face. "God, I wish I never had to let you go." She hands me to Alan and wipes at her eyes, sniffing a couple of times. Alan looks down at me and, for the first time that afternoon, he isn't grinning.
"We're going to get you back, Ray," he says to me in a low voice. Naomi perks her head, trying to hear just what he's saying. "I swear to God, I'll do whatever it takes to get you back."
"I think you'd better go now," Naomi says, walking over to Alan and holding out her hand for me. Alan glares at her outstretched hand, then sets me on the floor.
"Hang in there, pal," he whispers. "I promise, we're going to get you out of here."
He takes the empty duffel bag and walks over to Louise. The two of them look at me one more time, then turn to follow Naomi to the front door. She's being strong for my sake, but I just know Louise is going to start sobbing as soon as they're out the front door. Just like I am now.
I hear the front door slam, and Naomi comes walking back into the dining room. "Thank God," she mutters as she sits down in the chair. She reaches down and unbuckles her shoes, kicking them off.
"Ahh, much better," she sighs, rubbing her soles along the carpet and wiggling her toes. Her feet are criss-crossed with several red indentions from her tight sandals. I remain under the table, watching her flex her toes and wondering how long before she decides to play with me.
"Come here, Ray," she calls pleasantly. I walk over to her, past my car, and look up at her. "Well?" she asks me, expecting an answer to a question she hasn't asked.
"Well what?" I ask, still blinking away tears.
"Well, aren't you going to drive around in your little car?" she asks. She reaches over with her bare foot and nudges the car, lifting it slightly with her toes. It makes me furious to see her treat it with such disregard, but I choke back my frustration and say nothing other than, "Yes, ma'am."
I walk over to the car and wait for her to withdraw her foot before I climb in. I sit there behind the wheel, feeling her stare at me, wondering what the game is going to be.
"Why don't you go show Nicole your new car, sweetie?" she suggests, standing up. "I'm gonna make a phone call, and then go start dinner." I feel a glimmer of hope, like a stay of execution. She steps over my car. I stare up, watching the bottom of her foot as it passes over me and hits the carpet on the other side. She really is going to leave me alone! I can't believe my luck!
I spend the next thirty minutes in Nicole's room, showing off my new wheels. She squeals and applauds when I bring it to a sliding halt right at her feet. Then, gently, she reaches down and picks up the car, lifting me up so she can have a closer look.
"I love it," she announces, then sets me down so I can drive around some more. She takes great delight in creating an obstacle course for me from her teddy bear, her discarded sandals, and a small pile of dirty clothes from her hamper. I perform willingly, actually enjoying the attention she's giving me. I weave between the sandals, drive over the rugged terrain of her laundry, then do a tight, hairpin turn around the teddy bear. Then back over the dirty clothes, a quick slalom through her overturned shoes, and I complete the course by racing across the finish line between her bare feet.
She cheers enthusiastically, then asks me to do it again. "This time, I'll time you," she suggests, fishing a watch out of the messy pile on her dresser. She takes her position, and I take mine, lining up my car between her feet. "Ready..." she says. "Set..."
Her door opens, and Naomi pokes her head in. "Dinner's ready, you guys," she says, grinning down at me. She steps over and picks up my car, wrapping her hand around the cockpit. Her palm completely envelops my view, but the roll bar keeps it from actually touching me. My car bounces with each step as Naomi carries me into the dining room. She sets me down in front of my house, then steps back. I climb out of the car and make my way over to my front door.
"Here you go, sweetie," Naomi says, leaning down with a plate. It's a torn piece of bread and a couple pieces of shaved ham.
"What about the food Louise and Alan brought?" I ask her, unable to hide my disappointment.
She looks down at me rather crossly. "So, you don't like Momma's cooking?" she asks. What cooking? More like Momma's half-assed table scraps.
"It's just..." I trail off as she takes a step closer, stepping down right in front of me. Her toes begin to wiggle slowly, filling my nostrils with the faint scent of sweat and leather. I stare transfixed at the indentions that run across the top and sides of her foot. Her toes make a soft thump as they rub together.
"It's just what?" she asks, smiling down cruelly at me. She raises her foot slightly, showing me the wrinkled sole.
"I just hate for them to go through all that trouble for nothing."
"Oh, it wasn't for nothing," she says with an evil grin. "I tried some of the lasagnas. They were really good."
All my fear, all my trepidation goes out the window to be replaced with a crazy rage. I want so badly to hurt her, to choke her, to beat that horrible smile off of her face. "You bitch!" I hurl the plate at her. It bounces harmlessly off of her ankle, scattering bread and ham on the floor. "You had no right!"
Her foot kicks forward, her toes pinning me against my front door. I pound on her toes as they grip me and pinch together with sudden ferocity. I scream and pound harder, and she pinches me again. "Goddamn you!" I scream. "I hate you!"
She pinches me again and holds it this time. I can't get any air into my lungs, and my face feels like it's going to burst from the pressure. My arms flail weakly, then finally fall limp. I collapse in her grasp, sobbing helplessly. "I hate you," I moan softly. "I hate you so much."
"I know," Naomi says. "But there's nothing you can do about it."
"Momma?" Nicole comes running in, and Naomi hurriedly drops me and moves her foot away. I collapse in a heap on the carpet. "What are you doing to Ray?"
"Nothing, sweetie," Naomi says. "Me and Ray were just playing."
She looks down and sees me crying, then turns to her mother. "You made him cry, Momma. Ray doesn't like playing with people's feet. He told me."
"Oh, he did?" Naomi looks down at me. "Well sweetie, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Ray really does like it, but he's embarrassed to admit it."
Nicole looks skeptical. "Then why is he crying?"
"He's just sad because his friends had to go home. I was just trying to cheer him up. Right, Ray?"
Exhausted beyond measure, I just nod weakly.
"He really likes it?" Nicole asks, regarding me with a big grin.
"Sure he does," Naomi answers, poking playfully at me with her big toe. "Just last night, he asked me if he could play on my feet. Right, Ray?"
Again, I just nod. To fight would require so much energy, and I just don't have it right now.
"Can I try it?" Nicole asks.
Naomi chuckles. "Maybe later, sweetie. Right now, it's time for dinner."
Paul comes home while Naomi and Nicole are eating, carrying half-a-dozen roses. I stand at my window and watch the whole thing, numb and drained.
"Hi, honey," he says, grinning sheepishly. "You aren't mad at me, are you?"
"Of course not, sweetie," Naomi says. She stands up, walks over to Paul, and kisses him. He stares, dumbfounded, scarcely able to believe his luck. Don't fall for it, I want to shout to him. It's a trap. She's just setting you up for some colossal disappointment.
"They're beautiful," Naomi says, taking the flowers and carrying them into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?" she calls to him. "I saved you a plate."
"Um, no," he says, obviously embarrassed. "I mean, I didn't think you would wait dinner for me, so Walt and I ate at the bar." He braces himself for the tantrum...
...that never comes. Naomi walks back into the dining room, carrying the roses in a vase. She sets the vase down on the table and smiles. "Flowers just make a table look so beautiful, don't they?"
"Yeah," Paul agrees. "Um, how did it go with those SPECTRUM people?"
"Oh," Naomi makes a pouting face. "It was horrible. They were so horrible to me, and I had to face them all by myself." I imagine a sports announcer saying, She's casting her line in the water...
Paul runs over to her and puts his hands on her shoulders. "Aww, I'm sorry I left you alone with them, Naomi. You must be really mad at me."
She shakes her head. "I was a little, at first. But then..." She flashes him a sweet smile, "I thought of a way you could make it up to me." The sportscaster voice in my head says, She's dangling the bait...
"Of course, honey," he says. "Anything." She's setting the hook...
"I figured Cheryl and I could use a little alone time tonight," Naomi says. "Would you mind terribly taking the girls to a movie?"
"All right!" Nicole says, then adds cautiously, "Um, you're not going to sit with us, are you Daddy?"
Paul shrugs. "I guess that'll be okay." Hook, line and sinker... "What about Ray?" he asks. "Would you like me to take him, too?"
"No, Ray's fine," Naomi says, looking in my direction and winking. "I'm sure Cheryl and I won't even know he's here."
I offer no resistance to the ladies at first. They put me on the floor and Cheryl starts things off by showing me her new toe ring. It's a silver band with a gold braid in the middle that encircles the second toe of her right foot. She assures me that she bought it just for me, and she holds it up so I can admire it.
"It's very nice," I assure her. She raises her foot a little higher and suggests I have a look at it from underneath. I don't have to be Nostrodamus to know what's going to happen next. I climb under her foot, and she brings it down, pinning me to the carpet.
While she's toying with me, she makes a tsking sound and complains that her pedicure is already getting chipped. "I want to keep my toes pretty for my little boyfriend here," she says, rubbing me with the bottom of her foot and rolling me around on the carpet.
"Oh, I don't think you have anything to worry about," Naomi says. "I'm sure he thinks he's died and gone to heaven. Isn't that right, Ray?"
Yeah, all except for the heaven part. But I don't say anything. I just lay there and let Cheryl have her way with me.
"Poor baby," she says, picking me up between her toes and crossing her leg. "All the fight's gone out of him." She gives Naomi a for-shame look. "Did you get started without me?"
Naomi giggles. "He was acting out, so I had to punish him. It was my duty as his mother."
The conversation turns to Louise and Alan's visit that afternoon, but I'm barely listening. In fact, I'm barely able to respond to anything. Cheryl is slowly grinding me between her toes, usually a guaranteed attention getter, but I'm too morose to even manage a decent hard-on for her. I just stare at red paint on her toenails, dull and chipped, and wonder how long before she gets bored with me.
"Oh, Ray," Naomi suddenly says, startling me from my reverie. "Why don't you go get your new car and show Cheryl?"
"A new car, eh?" Cheryl smiles wickedly. "You really are the perfect man, aren't you?" She lowers me to the floor and releases me. I just lay there, unwilling to move.
"Raaay," Naomi says softly, nudging me with her toes. "Come on. Go get your car and bring it over here."
I climb wearily to my feet and make the long walk over to my house, leaving them to smoke their cigarettes and drink their wine and giggle about how subdued I am tonight. How can they possibly understand how tired and broken I am? Not physically, but spiritually. The idea of struggling, of arguing, of even lying to myself about how much control I have, seems a monumental waste of energy. I have no recourse, no hope, nothing on the horizon but month after unbearable month of being Naomi's plaything. And what if they win the case? What if the courts decide I have to spend the next two years here? What then?
"Hurry up, Ray," Naomi calls to me, "Or I'll come over there and stomp the shit out of you!" They both giggle, but I'm too empty to care. I get into the car and tap the "gas" pedal. The car lurches forward a few inches, then stops.
Less than two hours ago, my best friends in the entire world were here, and I had the overwhelming feeling that everything would somehow be all right. To fall from such a lofty height is worse than to never climb at all, right?
That's stupid, I tell myself. What's changed since Louise and Alan were here? So Naomi ate your dinners, so what? Ask yourself why? Hell, why does she do anything? Just to make you feel helpless and at her mercy.
It's your fault for letting her win, I berate myself. It's your fault for letting her fill you with such hopelessness that you forget the few good things that have happened to you.
Like Nicole. I remember the sheer exhilaration of racing along her bedroom floor while she cheered me on. I remember the warmth I felt when she held me and stroked me as we watched TV. Or the contentment and inner peace it gave me to just lie on her chest and feel her heart beat beneath me.
I punch the pedal, and the car shoots forward. I speed back over towards the ladies.
Or Suzy. My heart nearly leaps out of my chest when I think of her beautiful face, those amazing green eyes, and that smirk of a smile that lets me know she thinks of me as a person, not a pet. God damn Naomi for making me forget about Suzy, even for a second.
Things aren't so bad, I realize. Sure, I'll have to deal with Naomi now and again, but only at night. During the day, she'll be at work. And I'll be here with Suzy and Nicole.
I zoom across the dining room and slam on the brakes. The car slides a couple of feet, then comes to a stop at Cheryl's feet. She looks down at me and smiles. "What an adorable little car," she says, reaching down to pick it up. With a sudden, reckless glee, I yank the gearshift back towards me and mash the accelerator to the floorboard. The car shoots backwards, away from Cheryl's reaching hand. I hit the brakes and stop.
"Why, you naughty little thing," Cheryl says with a giggle. She reaches for me again, and I speed backwards again. I glance up in time to see Naomi's hand coming towards me. I throw it into forward and zip away. Cheryl stands up and tries to block me with her foot. I spin the steering wheel and edge around her.
"Ray!" Naomi snaps, standing up. I get about ten feet from them, then spin the wheel and slam on the brake. My car spins around as it skids along the carpet.
Naomi stands next to Cheryl, her hands on her hips. "Get over here right now, mister," she warns. "If I have to catch you, you're going to regret it."
I doubt it. I think the only thing I would regret at this point would be giving up. Naomi takes a step towards me, and I put the car into reverse and back away from her. The look of hot white anger on her face is priceless. I try to commit that look to memory, hoping it'll give me some comfort when she's meting out my inevitable punishment...
No time to think about that now. She lumbers towards me angrily, stomping her bare feet. I shift into forward and wait until she's almost on top of me...
I speed between her legs and back into the dining room. Cheryl, obviously amused by the whole thing, makes an attempt to head me off. I steer clear of her grasping hand and zip under the dining room table. I see Naomi's feet running alongside the table, trying to beat me to the other side. I turn left and shoot back out into the open, missing the back of Naomi's heel by inches.
The engine whines as I blow past Cheryl again and into the living room. Something flies overhead and strikes the floor in front of me. I swerve hard and barely miss crashing into Naomi's pink high heel. I turn just in time to see her throw the other one. It sails too high and smacks the lamp, breaking it.
"Son of a bitch!" Naomi screams, running towards me with reckless abandon. She actually drops to her knees and tries to block me while grabbing at me with both hands. I veer left, then break right and her hands clap together in the empty space behind me.
Grinning like a maniac, I watch over my shoulder as she lumbers to her feet. A shadow falls overhead. I look forward too late to avoid Cheryl's foot in my path. I brace myself as I hit it at full speed...
...and drive right over it. My oversized tires carry me up and over Cheryl's foot. She kicks out while I'm on top of her foot, and my car sails through the air. I hold my breath and scrunch down in the seat as far as I can as my car flips upside down and hits the carpet.
The shock almost jars me from my seat, but the seatbelt holds me in place. The car bounces once as the roll bar strikes the floor. It bounces a second time, and suddenly I'm right side up again.
"Holy shit," Cheryl says, looking at me with something akin to awe. That's right, I think. I'm invincible. I'll drive you both into the ground and then...
A shadow falls on me from behind. I floor the accelerator again, but the engine just whines in neutral. I glance down and see that the gearshift has moved out of gear. Panicked, I thrust it forward and mash the gas again.
The front tires spin against the carpet, but my car is going nowhere. Glancing up, I see Naomi is holding the roll bar between her toes, lifting the car slightly. My back tires are spinning helplessly in the air and my front tires just don't have the traction to escape her grasp.
"Get out," she orders me. I mash the accelerator again and again, trying to break free. Cheryl walks over and bends down to grab my car, and I know it's all over. Oh well, it was a hell of a run.
Cheryl reaches in and fumbles with my seatbelt until she finally gets it unlatched. Then she grabs me by the collar of my shirt and lifts me out of my car. Dangling me in front of her face, she shakes her head and grins. "You are in so much trouble, little boy," she says, laughing. She lowers me slightly, and lets me go. I plummet straight into Naomi's waiting hand.
Naomi is gasping for air, and for a minute she doesn't even say a word. She just holds me and stares down at me, while wiping the sweat from her forehead and cheeks. Finally, she says, "What the hell did you think you were doing?"
I shrug. "Thought you guys wanted to play. Sorry about that."
She's still huffing and puffing from all the running around. "I'm still trying to decide what I'm going to do to you," she says. "The hard part is coming up with a punishment that you won't enjoy." She carries me back over to the dining room table and sits down. Cheryl collapses into the other chair. For a while, nobody says a word.
Finally, Naomi grins and says, "Aw, fuck it. No car or movies for a week, okay?"
I nod. "If you say so."
"Good. Now that your punishment is out of the way, I guess you're allowed to enjoy this." She rubs me along the bottom of her foot, then slides me between her toes. And for once, I don't resent her. In fact, I actually do enjoy it.
She wiggles her toes until I climax, and actually giggles when I kiss her pink toenail and tell her how pretty her feet are. But what surprises me the most is that afterwards, she tells Cheryl she thinks I've had enough. She carries me to my dollhouse, moves it away from the wall, and lays me gently on my bed. And in a surprising display of gentleness, she kisses her finger and touches it to the side of my face.
"Goodnight, sweetie," she say.
"Goodnight, Naomi."
I can tell she wants to correct me, make me call her "Momma," but she doesn't. Instead, she moves away and pushes my house back against the wall.
I won. I beat her. And for the first time in weeks, I sleep like a baby.
Giantess World
Homunculus by Cayce