Unfortunately for Quint, sleep didn’t seem like much of an option for him tonight. The girl (what was her name?) slept soundly, her peaceful snoring wafting through the closet door and into his box.

After her mom had made dinner, she had brought him a piece of broccoli. “I need you healthy,” she had said. When he hadn’t immediately gone to eat it, she had threatened him: “If I don’t see a good chunk of this gone by tomorrow morning, I’m going to be very upset. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

He was in a daze, but his head automatically shook a no for him.

“Good.”

So he spent the night eating as much of the piece of broccoli as he could. It was something to do, even if he started to gag towards the end. When he was done, he spent what felt like forever trying to avoid puking. And when he was done that, his metabolism lulled him to sleep.

He slept deeply. It took her not only lifting the box and unlocking it, but also opening it with a wide smile and saying “Good morning sleepyhead! Great job with finishing your dinner!” for him to jerk awake.

“Baby swept well, didn’t he?” she cooed.

“Fuck off…” he grumbled.

Her face changed instantaneously from cutesy to austere.

“What did you say to me?” she hissed.

He sighed. There was no point to rebelling. Unfortunately, not responding to her question also qualified as rebellion.

“I said,” she emphasized, “what did you just say to me?”

“I said fuck off. I’m sorry.”

Her angry face loomed across his vision. How was it possible for her to remain beautiful when her face was twisted by wrath?

“You feel like being bad today, huh?” she said, snatching him up in her hand and bringing him so agonizingly close to her face that he squirmed. “Is this because I went easy on you yesterday?”

He shook his head vigorously no. There was nothing he wanted less than for her to believe that what happened yesterday was going easy.

“No? Then what is it?”

“I just can’t wait to get started on your nails.”

A smile made its way back across her face. “I know you’re full of shit, but that was so cute I might just let you get away with it.” She thought about it for a second while they walked back to the bathroom. “If you do a good job, of course.” She placed him in her cleavage.

Quint felt an erection coming on, even as the warmth radiating from the jiggling mounds on either side of him brought him to sweat. He tried to think of unsexy things, like dead puppies and his grandma, but when a perfect pair of tits was gently pinching his entire body up to his neck, he ended up imagining dead puppies with great racks. He didn’t even bother with trying to imagine his grandma, because that would undoubtedly plummet him into more shame than he already felt about the puppies with puppies.

“Hm…” the girl said, pretending it was a difficult decision. “Which polish do you think I should use? Rose? Or Pink Passion?”

“Whatever you want…” Quint mumbled. He was distracted.

“Boy,” she said, “you really like my tits, huh, cutie? I wonder if you’d like my ass as much. Or are you a tit man, through and through?”

It didn’t take long for Quint to decide he didn’t want to end up down there. “I like the, uh, chest area the best. By far.”

She laughed. “How did I know you were going to say that?” she asked. “Listen, we’ll be trying it out later. You can lie, but you’ve got a lie detector in between your legs. If you’re lying, we can have fun watching it grow.” She winked down at him.

Fortunately for Quint, he really wasn’t an ass guy. Unfortunately, he doubted very much that she really cared.

“I’ve decided,” she said. “We’re going to try out Raspberry. It’s new, so I kind of have to. I wonder if it actually smells like raspberries.” She laughed, but Quint was too busy focusing his attention on trying to not explode to join her. “Probably not. Nail polish smells kind of gross, don’t you think?”

He tried to boost himself up, so that he didn’t feel so completely immobile. Unfortunately, with his arms pinned to his sides, he only succeeded in digging himself further into her.

“Whoa, there, little guy!” she said as she plopped down on the bed, bouncing with a pace that gave Quint seasickness, “Don’t suffocate in there. I know I have a great pair and everything, but I like to think I’m able to hold on to my little fellas for at least a few weeks each. I might not have been caught yet, but if I shrink every guy I come across, somebody’s bound to notice. And I just can’t go for too long without one.”

Just as he was sure that she was going to continue talking until he really did suffocate in the pressure of a D-cup push-up bra, she used her hands to pull her tits away from one another. “You can come out now.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He tumbled out of her, tripping on the collar of her shirt and falling on his face. She laughed, and her mouth was so near to him that he felt the noise was coming from all sides.

“Alright,” she said. “I grabbed my polish towel from the bathroom while we were in there. It usually takes guys a few tries to be able to do it without dripping everywhere. And while you were asleep,” she added, “I also filed them down.”

He sat dazed on the towel, surrounded by splotches of various shades of pink larger than he was.

“Fine, don’t thank me. See how much good that does you.” She unscrewed the polish, and an acrid scent poured out, burning his nose and eyes. She giggled at his pain. “You could also thank me for picking polishes with thin caps. Otherwise, you’d probably fumble more than… I don’t know. Who’s a bad football player? I don’t really watch it.”

She handed him the polish. He staggered under it, not so much at the weight as the difficulty of maneuvering it. Already he slipped, and a drop of dark pink landed on the towel.

“As entertaining as this is,” she said, “I’d like it if you could hurry up. I think I’m going to try and get you a friend tonight, and who knows if he’ll be as easy as you.”

Eventually, he found that by leaning on the base of her big toe, he was able to use its support to prop himself up. He painted the polish across the middle of her nail. They were perfect nails, just like the rest of her. Smooth and crisp, neither jutting out of her skin nor enveloped in the flesh.

He slid the brush along one edge of the nail, being careful not to get the paint on her skin. He didn’t think she’d be so patient about that kind of mess up. To get the far edge of the big toe, he realize he’d have to move closer. In order to still have support, he ended up standing in between her toes. Truthfully, he was tall enough that he still pointed the brush down at her nails. He grunted with effort as he brushed it along her nail.

When he went back over to restock the brush with polish, he found that she’d moved it closer to him. She really meant that she wanted this done as quickly as possible.

Eventually, as his head got more comfortable with the smell dripping off the brush, he began to smell her feet beneath it. Salty, but not heavily. She had already taken a shower today, and she didn’t sweat profusely. He was definitely grateful for that.

“Do you know any guys with weird names around here?” she asked him. “Preferably good looking ones, but I won’t be picky.”

As if he was going to help her trap some other guy. “No.”

“Too bad, I guess. I always have to do the work.” She scrolled through her phone while he labored. “Let’s see if we can’t find some loser on Tinder.”

He sighed. Maybe if he had a partner, they could figure something out. It could take the pressure off of him.

“It gets me so hot when two little guys make out. Especially when they’re all macho and grossed out and stuff. It’s so funny.” She giggled.

Ugh. Nevermind.