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"Rise and shine!" the overly chirpy voice of Laura roused George from his half-sleep, snapping out of the delirium of a feverish night as the sock that was his bedroom peeled from under him, allowing him to land on the mattress below with a plump bop. The slightly scented smell of the bed permeated George's nostrils, which were likely never to reach their original sensitivity after a life of servitude. Laura plucked George up, ferreting him away into the soft wrinkles of her palm, the very slight moisture practically a desert compared to her feet. With little fanfare or conversation Laura dropped him onto a freezing kitchen counter, illuminated by the warming yellow light of morning. George was not doing well, the sleep deprivation burning his eyes and yesterday’s tormenting aches still sticking deep into his flesh. He couldn't do anything but attempt to cool down on the counter as he watched the giant brunette rifle through her fridge, soon to retrieve a cardboard box containing yesterday's half eaten pizza, a nutritious breakfast for sure. Angling the slice, she began to gobble up the greasy cold feast. Surprising her delirious diminutive by dropping a half-eaten and cheese coated olive next to him. "T-thank you" George muttered out, cringing at his pathetic knee-bending.

"No trouble, I'm so kind, aren't I?" she gloated sarcastically over him as he began to take great bites from the greasy thing, not even particularly liking olives. Sarah fed him her scraps as well, and he was fine with that, after eating the bland pellets he was forced to eat in his glass cage, he would eat anything.

When their meals were done, Laura hoisted George, covered both inside and out with grease, up and took him back to her bedroom. After some thought, she slipped George into her mouth, just keeping him pursed between her lips as she required both hands to undress herself. George was shocked at this, the feeling of being between two giant lips was indescribable, their softness yet strength forming an uncomfortable balance that locked him in place, not to mention the torrent of warm air that flowed from her nostrils above. As dyed fabric began to raise around him, he began to realise what was happening, not knowing how to respond. After derobing, she spat him into her waiting palm, tiny specks of saliva following him. George couldn't help but gawk at her giant taut breasts, bobbing slightly with each step she took, the giantess either not knowing or not caring for the show that she was putting on for her little admirer. So distracted was George that he only snapped out of his lustful gaze when she walked into a small glass cubicle and placed him on the tiled floor, between her pink feet. George instantly recognised this as a shower, clearly not a place he would want to be. Surely she can't be serious? A shower this size? He would die. He looked skyward, the fear in his stomach too deep to appreciate the view of her entire body, totally exposed to him. Smiling down at the terrified creature, reading his mind, she offered a few words "Try and clean yourself up down there, you tasted like feet." before gripping and turning one of the knobs.

Steam surrounded him, impairing his vision completely. He could only vaguely recognise the two monstrous peds that were located so far below the rest of her body, the legs attached to them shooting high into the thick warm fog towards the unknown. He knew that he needed to stay under her, the direct torrent of the shower likely to be painful to his fragile form. Under her was calmer, but thick streams of runoff, water dripping down her body, still fell all around him and carried the filth, grit and dirt that polluted her body, likely imperceptibly tiny to her. All the streams of water created the every transient sheen of water at the base, the tiny amount coming half way up his calves, impeding his movements. The current of the water always heading towards the drain, daring to pull him with it if he tripped. Despite sheltering between her legs, water still flew through the air as it bounced on the tiles, streams and whips of water hitting his body painfully, making him wince. The environment was like being stuck under a waterfall of steaming hot water during a tropic monsoon, with the sound to match, the only sound being the infinite crashing of water onto the tiles. She made a small step back, making George run to keep up, just to cower close to her leg in fear of a direct stream of water. Soon the dripping water carried white suds, dripping down her gargantuan form like a crawling goo monster from a 50s sci-fi flick. The soapy substance burned his eyes and made the already slick ground slipperier. As time went on the water became clearer and cleaner, the torrential storms at her feet no longer filthy. She went through other actions such as shampooing her hair and brushing her teeth. George was forced to evacuate when she lifted one of her feet up to scrub it, exposing him to the torrential stream of water for a brief moment. Eventually the sound stopped, replaced by the gargling of the water being sucked down deep into the pipes far below the pair. George lay panting in her shadow, rivulets of water still dripping down her body as she felt the after effects of a relaxing shower. "Ready for the gym?" George had almost forgotten...

"Okay, here's how I see it..." dictated Laura to the bug between her sports shoes. "It's my job to train you to be a good pet for Sarah, and you can't be a good pet if you're not fit. So today, both of us are gonna have a workout, so let’s begin with some stretches." George had just been pulled out of her musty gym bag after a lengthy car ride, and was a little nervous to what she had in store. She was wearing her gym gear: sports shoes, gym shorts, a tank top, sweat bands, everything. He could tell she was a bit of a fitness freak. "Come on, get limbered up! Like this." Laura grabbed onto her shoe and pulled it right up to her chest, setting it down and doing the same with the other. George began imitating her, but he really didn't know how much she was expecting of him. He wasn't exactly unfit, but weeks of no exercise in a cage left him a little atrophied, not to mention his sleep deprivation, still bruised body and exhausting shower experience. Laura continued her stretches, the booming motions so close to George unnerving him, even after growing somewhat used to interacting with the behemoth "regular people". "Alright, now drop down and give me twenty!" she yelled. Stunned, George looked up at her, to which she responded by raising the sole of her sneaker above him, rolling her foot in air for emphasis. George was quick to get down into push-up position. Struggling, his aching arms just managed to push him off the ground, straining as he did. He managed to get in one more before collapsing under his own wait. He rolled onto his back, Laura's giant, godlike head shaking disapprovingly far above. "Pathetic. Ya do it like this.", She jumped down to the floor, her arms supporting her as she was in the position. This sudden movement terrified George, her giant face now filling his entire view; she smiled as she lowered herself, the tip of her nose millimetres away from George. She pushed herself up and down rapidly, her face growing and shrinking in George's field of view, each time terrifying him a bit, her giant hazel eyes gleaming with joy as she knew the fear she was inspiring with such a simple movement. Jumping up to her feet, not even breaking a sweat from the push ups. She leaned down to pinch the already exhausted slave. "I think you need a closer view to get you motivated. This is how a real girl does it." with a smile, he was dropped into her cleavage. He slid down the soft slope until being right next to her heart, the giant muscle beating tremendously. The tautness of her breasts was enough to encase him between them, the only light coming from the thin crack far above.

George could tell by the rapid acceleration and the shifting a moment ago that she was now lying down, confused as to what was occurring, he held his breath. Currently the fleshy crevice smelled like body wash, but he imagined that was going to change. Rapidly he and the soft mounds were flung at a 45 degree angle, ending with an inertial tug, everything around him compressing together. The environment squeezing him tighter and tighter, to the point that all light was blocked out and he was completely sealed between the two walls. A moment later the constriction was released, the hard walls melting back to their plushness. After a brief drop, they were back to laying down. Again the same motion occurred, the constriction squeezing the air from his lungs. She was doing sit ups, the simple motion of pressing her breasts to her legs becoming a rapid crushing for the creature trapped so deep between them. As she increased her pace, the motions became more sickening for fragile George, the crushing so quick as to knock the air out of him, having to take precious quick breaths between the sickening squishes. Her heart began to beat more ferociously with the excretion, the sound omnipresent in the confined space. The tiny pores along her breasts began to open up and exude their moisture, the vapour soon to begin forming the noxious scent of sweat.

After some amount of time, and numerous crushings, he was prodded from his position by a finger tip, digging him out and exposing him the artificial light of the gym. "Motivated?" she cocked her head in teasing "Let’s try some weights." George was dropped onto a table adjacent to a rack of all kinds of weights, their scale far beyond what was usable for someone of his size. "Little too heavy for ya, eh? How about this, if you can lift up even my littlest finger, you don't have to work for the rest of the day, and I'll give you dinner. Deal?" George felt he had no real choice, so there was no use putting up a fight. Laura set her hand down as her other one clutched and pumped a bright red dumbbell, her powerful muscles easily lifting it up and down. Approaching her pinky finger, thicker than a tree trunk, George just managed to wrap his arms around it, his arms slightly sinking into the soft skin. Straining his knees and aching back to lift it up, he felt he was going to pop a blood vessel; the weight far too great to budge. He tried again, the not even watching Laura giggling at his efforts. With a tiny flip of her finger George was flung back, landing painfully onto the ground, old bruises refreshed. "Huh, need more... motivation?" Oh god no, he said. George was once again gripped in her talons and dropped into her cleavage, the sweat having dried to become sticky and have the noticeably sheer stench. He fell deep into the crevasse, taking his old position, the environment now stickier. He was bobbed up and down as she strolled around the gym, not even allowing him the privilege of knowing where she was taking him. Taking her position, she began to skip rope, the thin chord flying above her head and under her feet. Up and down, up and down, up and down. All around him the flesh shook and quivered to her whim, the bouncing making him nauseous. In no time the same pores opened up and released their moist air, accompanied by familiar heart beat accelerating. The moisture began to condense, the surfaces on either side becoming slick now, and the smell becoming so full of the thick scent that it was hard to breath. George began to slip deeper into her bosom, the unending, quaking motion and heart beat dislodging the stowaway. Aided by the lubricating sweat that was beginning to drip down, only some being absorbed into her sports bra. George couldn't see, but he was beginning to think that he was almost at the terminal point of this water slide from hell, after which he would fall from between her breasts. Indeed, a few drawn out moments later he landed on the moist fabric of her bra. He saw through the filtered light of the sports bra the colossal fleshy mammaries lifting off, their absences causing him to slide underneath where they would usually fall, a second later crushed under its immense weight. He struggled against the breast, the slick sweat not allowing him to push himself away. Each jump sending it upwards only to crush him moments later. Again and again he was beat by it, like a punching bag the weight of a truck crushing you. Sweat began to pool under her breast, the drippings turning to hot salty rivulets cascading in the darkness. George was so tired, his arms failed to listen to him. He begged for some, any reprieve. 

The motions stopped, George left crushed between the enormous weight and the wet fabric of her bra. After a second he was fished out of the absolutely burning environment, the air making him realise his skin felt like it was on fire. He gasped in her palm as she inspected him. "Break time!" she chirped. George had never heard more merciful words in his life, almost getting on his knees and prostrating himself in thanks. He was dropped on the foam floor as he recuperated. "Not for you, idiot, you didn't earn it." George subconsciously rescinded his thanks to his merciful goddess. She squeezed the bottle of water she aimed at her face, the stream hitting her mouth with sharp tick. The sound making the dehydrated toy yearn for such a luxury. Taking notice, Laura unleashed an icy cold spray of water onto him as he lay there, instantly hydrating him, but burning his skin with the cold. He recoiled and squirmed, the rapid change of temperature stinging his skin. Laura looked at the pitiful thing, already bruised and exhausted. She decided that she should actually make him exercise. Plucked up and placed on a rough surface, George realised he was on the giant conveyor belt of a treadmill. He turned around, Laura leaning casually against the wall, an absolutely diabolical smirk on her face. Hitting a few buttons on the control panel high up, the belt began to move with a deep whirr. Although it was on the lowest setting possible, the speed was still incredible for George, forcing him to break out in a sprint instantly. The ground was incredibly rough and uneven below his feet, requiring him to exercise caution where ever he stepped lest he trip. At first he sprinted to his far right, attempting to get to the safety of the side track, only to be blocked by a monstrous red sports shoe "uh, uh, uh" she tutted high above, not doubt finding the show of a tiny creature struggling on the very lowest setting, lower than walking speed, entertaining. Stepping onto the track with a thud, Laura very slowly followed behind George, the booms of each gigantic foot fall motivating him further. Fuelled by pure adrenaline, George powered on, his legs aching, his lungs burning, his mind aflame with nothing but survival. Each breath he took just allowed more air to escape, each step losing ground, he tried, he tried so hard, he felt he was going as fast as Usain Bolt on steroids, but the booming sounds grew closer and closer, until he collapsed in agony. The machine died with a whirr, shutting off at the simple press of a button. George lay borderline unconscious at the foot of the machine, his brain and lungs starved for oxygen. His mind was so feeble all he could think about was: why him? He wanted freedom, freedom from pain, freedom from torture, he wanted his life back, he wanted Laura to leave him alone.

George was in hell. After he awoke Laura proudly proclaimed that they were "almost done", pulled back her waistband and dropped him down her pants. He lay pressed deep into her burning right butt cheek as she peddled an exercise bike, the fabric of her gym shorts tight against her peachy buttocks, just allowing him to breathe through the fibres. The motion of her powerful leg going up and down on the peddles rolled him with the thigh over and over again, making him nauseous. He thought that being crushed under her breast was bad, this was unbearable. He couldn't move even the slightest bit, the plumpness keeping him strapped too tight. Even if he wanted to move, his entire body still ached. He imagined his body a Jackson Pollock panting of marks and bruises by now, wondering how Sarah would react to his injuries. The buckets of hot sweat condensing around him only to be sucked into the fibres of her gym shorts made him sick and completely failed to cool him down from the oppressive heat. The movements became faster until he felt the hemisphere of her butt lift off, hovering above the seat, Laura exercising intensely. The movements began to shift him, edging closer and closer to centre, the dividing crack between her two cheeks. He tried to crawl away, practically swimming through the moist and soft flesh, just sending him there faster. Eventually he slipped in between them entirely, held tight by the firmness of the walls, the rotations in opposite directions around him grinding him between the doughy walls, the heat dominating all of his senses. The pain and humidity was too much to bare. He probably would have passed out had at that moment she not dismounted the bike and made her way to the locker room, each step grinding him more, albeit slower.

George lay in Laura's palm as she held it, and him, next to her face. The exhausted slave only dimly aware of the giant phone pointing towards them as she snapped a selfie. Posting it to Facebook with the caption "Gym day 💪 with this runt, put him through a proper work out 😜💦💦" much to the adoration of her friends. She made her way into a cubicle, dropping the barely conscious George into a rag by her feet, the old thing carrying a musty odour, not that George could smell, or feel anything right now. Undressed, she picked George and the rag up, shaking it to stir him to consciousness. He blinked his eyes open, the still steaming body of Laura filling his eyes, sweat glistening under the fluorescent lights. "Wakey wakey. I just wanted you to be awake for this. So, soak it in." she giggled at her small pun. She bundled him and the sweat rag up, dabbing at her sticky breasts. On top, between, underneath, around, soaking up the natural excretion. The wetness penetrated deep into the rag as he was tumbled about, losing all sense of direction. When her breasts were sufficiently dry she moved on to her armpits. George was now on the outside of the bundle, and collided directly into the shiny surface, littered with tiny pores. He was dragged up and down, the thin flesh sticking to him slightly as he was forced across. The smell of her body in general becoming absolutely ingrained deep in his nose. He couldn't even recognise it anymore, going so nose blind that he was forgetting what air smelled like. Moving to the next armpit, the process was repeated, the humiliating, yet apparently hilarious process. It made George's skin crawl when he thought about, opting to grit his teeth in patience and exhaustion. Eventually she would go through her entire body; wiping up her stomach, drying between her buttocks and around her womanhood, down her legs, and eventually to the suffocating and still steaming feet, still enjoying their freedom from the tight socks and shoes. By the time this humiliating process was finished, the rag was more sweat than fabric, and the less said about George the better.

Laura slipped on some clean clothes and headed home, ready for a tasty lunch. She was well aware the state that George was in, he was barely alive, and definitely not useful for the rest of the day. She licked her lips; now that George knew what she was capable of he was wrapped around her little finger, he would practically thank her for any lesser punishment. She looked over to him in the passenger seat, sleeping so peacefully. Their time was not done yet.


Chapter End Notes:

This one was pretty long, phew.

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