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Author's Chapter Notes:

I just want my indentation to work. :C

The toe swung down like a battering ram, its soft, pale flesh now as hard as any timber used in the ancient weapon. Justin felt his face collapse into itself. His arms stretched, inertia struggling to keep them where they were as the rest of him was replaced by the massive foot. Momentum won, and Justin flew through the air with his arms fluttering behind him like flags on the mast of a storm-stricken ship. Whatever air had been left in his lungs was forced out when he crashed down onto the impenetrable surface of the cool, white tile floor. A towering figure stomped between him and the ceiling light, casting her shadow down on everything below.
“WHY DON'T YOU EVER LISTEN TO ME?” His girlfriend, Lizzie, loomed over him. She looked ready for bed. Her shoulder-length black hair was disheveled, and the only thing she wore was an over-sized t-shirt bearing the image of a cartoon cat. She'd be cute, Justin thought, if not for the way her face was contorted with rage.
“Wha-?” he sputtered. Lizzie lifted her foot. Even from his position on the floor, Justin could see flecks of household dirt and stray hairs clinging to it. Then, without so much as a wiggle of her toes, she stomped. The foot smashed into Justin, compressing his body in ways unimaginable, and yet he could feel himself rising up, his skin filling the ridges of her pad.
“I HAVE FEELINGS, JUSTIN, AND I EXPECT YOU TO BE THERE FOR ME!” Moments ago he'd been his normal six-foot-three height listening to Lizzie complain about classes, or friends, or... something. Then, without warning, she'd flown off the handle, and he found himself an inch tall at the feet of a very angry woman.
Lizzie pressed harder, and twisted her foot. Shards of dirt dug into Justin, and his face was pulled back and forth with every jerk of the crushing appendage.
“IF THIS IS HOW I HAVE TO BE TO GET YOU TO PAY ATTENTION, THEN FINE!” The weight on top of him let up as her foot rose away. The monster hovered above Justin, ready to strike again. Amber eyes peeked around her instep, regarding him coldly as if he were a criminal on trial. Then, once again, Justin's vision was obscured of everything except her descending foot. Stars erupted across his vision as the foot slammed into him. Lizzie gave a quick twist, splattering Justin even further, his body now clay at her feet. The ball of her foot peeled itself from him, and her heel moved to replace it. It came down, crushing him underneath the weight of her entire body. Compacted dirt from her lazy day at home smeared across Justin's face. The foul aroma of old sweat reached into his nose and mouth. Again she twisted, back and forth, squishing him paper-thin between the hard surfaces of her foot and the floor. She stopped, and Justin felt his burden lighten. The muscles behind her sole loosened, and the rest of her foot lowered to the floor.
She'd remove the giant appendage any second now. In just a moment, Lizzie would grow him to his original height and hug him, crying for Justin to accept her apology. Then, he'd be in the shower, washing her filth from his face and chest. Any second now...
Thirty seconds... A minute... two minutes he waited, and still she stood on him. With her heel pressing against him, Justin could see nothing. His lolling jaw smushed his tongue onto her sole, as if he were being force-fed a grime-covered slab of ham. Flattened ears brought him no new sounds, and his brain screamed for oxygen from lungs he couldn't fill. Justin's entire body was pain and pressure.
Lizzie's weight lifted, but her foot remained. Gravity tugged at him, and he regained just a bit of his previous depth. He felt himself be flipped with Lizzie's foot, the flesh now keeping him away from the ground instead of crushing him into it.
“Heh, so now you want to be clingy,” Justin heard her say. The foot flipped back over, and once again cold tiles met the man's back. Her weight returned, mashing him flat into the floor. This time, though, there was no waiting. The flesh smothering Justin jerked away. His face was dragged down and smeared into his own pelvis with the rest of him folding over to accommodate. Lizzie's heel ripped itself from him, and Justin could see again, just quick enough to watch her instep and toes zip by. The ground shuddered as the mass of flesh landed out of his view.
Like a judging goddess, Lizzie stood over him. The light above added to her divinity as it diffracted around her frizzy hair, casting her round face in shadow while a golden halo sprung from her head. Despite this, she was clearly no angel; her expression of cold hatred made sure of that.
“I'm sick of this,” the young woman spat down at Justin. “Sick of you.” Lizzie shifted her weight to one foot. Her enormous thigh lifted, bringing the rest of her leg up with it. Her heel raised until the only part of her foot still attached to the ground was the very tip of her big toenail. A face framed by golden hair stared at Justin from that violet-tinted world. Smeared, smushed, dirty, and impossibly contorted, he could scarcely recognize his own reflection in her glossy nail polish. Yet there he was, gasping like a beached fish with his body folded and crumpled in such a way that his flattened legs seemed to extend directly from his chin. The image shuddered as her toe wiggled slightly, and Justin felt the edge of the nail wedge itself between his body and the floor. With a flick, Justin was pried away and flipped over. His face struck the hard tile painfully, but not enough to conform to its flat surface. Instead, rough skin pulled at his head, folding him over until he was once again tasting Lizzie's sole. It didn't stop. Justin was helpless as his face met the floor again. The massive foot reversed its momentum less than a moment later, and his tongue was again pressed against her filthy sole.
Again. Again. Foot, floor, foot, floor. Justin felt his body compressing in on itself, but it wasn't flattening. With every pass of Lizzie's foot, he glided easier across the cold tiles. The appendage rolled him to the left, and then to the right. Left, and right again. Then it tore itself from Justin's face, and he could gaze upon the giant Lizzie fully.
“I am kicking you out,” she said, glaring at him in disdain. She leaned over, her torso blotting out the ceiling light like an alien mother-ship looming over a city. She reached somewhere in front of her. There was a great rumbling, and Justin felt the ground quake. Something massive behind him was sliding apart, and a cool breeze washed into the room, bringing with it the dampness of night.
“Enjoy the rest of your life,” Lizzie said, straightening back up. Her thigh moved and her knee bent. Her foot rose, only to disappear behind her a moment later. With one arm curved in front of her and one behind, she balanced on the remaining leg.
“Lizzie, wait!” Justin squeaked. He tried to twist and pull, but couldn't break free of the bonds his own body held over him. He could only watch as her leg swung down.
Her toe struck him like a meteor, cratering his face and lifting him from the ground. Justin's world was a blur as he careened through the air, wind whipping passed him. The warm, soft light of the kitchen gave way to a sharp, cold fill. He smelled fresh soil.

SPLAT! Justin felt inertia compress his body against a smooth, hard surface as all of his momentum was stopped in an instant. Pain reverberated through his entire body. A damp breeze fluttered across his face. He opened his eyes.
The first thing Justin noticed was a single light source surrounded by darkness. Then as his grogginess faded, he realized the source of the light was his house. A feminine shadow stood in the doorway. Lizzie pulled the sliding glass door shut, severing whatever contact she still had with Justin, and then walked out of sight. The light flicked off, and the ambient moonlight filled its void.
This was... new. Lizzie being mad at him was a common enough occurrence, she'd even shrunk him before, but those bouts had never lasted more than a few minutes. She's never kicked him out of the house, literally or otherwise. This was something different. It felt final. Justin gazed across the veritable forest of grass, each blade highlighted by the cold luminescence of the moon. The house was dark now. Lizzie must've gone to bed. He sighed.
With a squelch and a pop, Justin was able to yank his head free of its hold on the surface he was stuck to. Looking down, he saw his own body still mostly flattened against a wall of polished stone. Blades of grass almost reached his feet, and the soil they were rooted in was not much further down. On either side of him were letters three times his size printed onto the stone. He could just make out an “O” on his right, and on his left seemed to be a “V”. Justin groaned. He was stuck to a gift he'd given her; a granite brick with “LOVE” printed on it that sat at the border to her garden.
The hold that the man's body had on the stone was beginning to loosen. He pulled his right arm free with a jerk, and used it to pry his other from the polished wall. His torso was peeled away only a moment later. Justin twisted and stretched, feeling each satisfying crack from his ironically stiff joints. His little moment of levity faded, though, as his backside began to slip free. Gravity pulled him forward and down. He grasped at the sheer face of the brick in anticipation, but the polished granite offered no purchase. When his ass finally let go of the stone, his still clay-like legs could not keep him upright. He fell forward, bending at the thigh, and watched his own legs be peeled away faster due to the added weight of the rest of his body pulling on them. With a sound like tape being ripped away, his legs gave in to gravity, and Justin fell.
He landed butt-first in the cushy soil. The short fall was nothing compared to what he'd already gone through. As if to accentuate this point, he watched as his curled legs slowly straightened themselves. Only a minute later, they had hardened back to their flesh-and-bone selves, ready to use. He'd always thought his girlfriend's abilities were unnatural, but this was damn-near sickening; a far cry from the bedroom fun and playful tricks she normally used her magic for.
Justin picked himself up, and brushed off whatever filth he could. His favorite, most comfortable green t-shirt was ruined, stained by the dirt of Lizzie's bare feet. The same was true of his gym shorts, but they were for lazing around anyway.
“Ugh, my socks, too?” he asked the world, stomping his feet in the dew-moist dirt. There was no way he was going to let all this slide. He'd just have to find some way to let Lizzie have a piece of his mi-
He heard it. A rustling, not far off. Justin dropped to a crouch. Somewhere to his left a cricket started chirping. A car honked a world away, and the neighbor's dog barked a response.
CRO-O-O-AK! The sound made Justin's heart jump. A giant bullfrog leapt into the air and landed with a thump a short distance away. Justin caught sight of the distinct orange blaze on the creature's flank, a mark made by ancient forces that the man knew nothing of. It could only be Chives, Lizzie's familiar. He knew the ugly beast well, and he did not want to meet it while Lizzie was angry with him, or at all, given his size.
CRO-O-O-AK! Chives was coming closer. Acting more on instinct than thought, Justin dashed around the corner of the building-sized brick. The foot-high plastic fence Lizzie had used to define her garden rose above and trailed in either direction for relative miles. Perfect. Ever since Lizzie had caught the fat frog lying on top of some of her favorite flowers, Chives had been banned from the garden. He wouldn't dare cross over. At least, that was what Justin hoped.
No sooner had he run under the massive plastic pillars of the fence than Chives had shoved his bulk through the grass. Justin bounded over the freshly sown ground, under a leaf, and behind a flower stalk. The filthy, ugly, slimy head of Chives twitched as its soulless eyes caught sight of the movement. They studied Justin carefully. The beast was only twenty feet from him at this scale. The only thing separating them was the plastic fence.
Chives' head twitched again, and the animal seemed to look from Justin to the fence, back to Justin, and to the fence again. It swelled its massive throat and let out an angry CRO-O-O-AK! before hopping away.

Gingerly, Justin stepped from behind the plant. Had that been any other animal, he would've been dinner. That's what he assumed anyway; there was no telling what other magic Lizzie had dumped on him. Looking to the sky, he could just barely see the roof of her house poking up from a frame of grass. She hadn't given him the ability to fly either, presumably. So, like a pilot crashed in the Amazon, he was stuck, stranded alone at the mercy of beast and element alike.
Justin yawned. Lizzie also apparently had not seen fit to give the man limitless stamina. He climbed onto a leaf and nestled himself into the crook of its spine. Sending up a silent prayer to no one in particular, he hoped that any other roving predator wouldn't notice him through the night. Eyes closed, and face to the stars, the tiny man exhaled. Pain and weariness he forgot he had washed through him and radiated into his natural hammock. With the crickets chirping and the smell of dirt, he could almost imagine he was on a relaxing camping trip. He opened his eyes. Moonlight trickled in through the giant leaves spiraling above, and the underside of an enormous white flower towered above like the dish of a powerful aerial. Of course, the Madonna lily. The very first flower he taught Lizzie to plant.
They'd met in history class, but she'd begged him to teach her to garden after she found out he was a botany student. Looking back, Justin was sure it was a plot on her part to get them together. Nevertheless, teach her he did, and now almost three years later she was the gardener and he was not. He stroked his leafy bed absentmindedly and gazed into the moon's reflection in a drop of dew clinging to the majestic flower petal. And what a gardener she was. Lizzie had taken to the hobby like a fish to water, and even without her magic she was able to produce such vibrant specimens as the one Justin was lying on; but a few rituals and a spell or two were enough to make the plants thrive in any season, bloom more frequently, and even stay fresh longer after being cut. Had she the desire, Lizzie could easily run a successful flower shop, but she was instead content to sell a few here and there to add to her meager cashier income. She'd never shared her financial details with him, but Justin was sure the money she made from her garden just on Valentine's Day and prom season was the prime reason she could afford to live on her own. He yawned again; his eyes were already closed before he could stop them.
“Well, that and her witch mother,” he mumbled.

Justin awoke to the sound of the neighbor's dog barking. His slumber had been far from restful. Though dreamless, the unfamiliar sounds of his location and... situation had kept him tossing and turning all night. Occasionally, he thought he'd seen a creature stalking somewhere just beyond his range of vision, but his weary body always pulled him back to sleep. Evidently, he had survived the night. Stretching away the knots from his aching muscles, he looked to the sky as bands of sunlight pushed their way through the foliage. Justin knew his goal for the day. There was no alternative; getting back on Lizzie's good side was the only way he was going to survive, or at least have a life worth living.
His socks ruined, Justin tossed them away and clambered off the leaf. His toes sunk into the soft soil, the large grains crumbling into smaller, springier bits where his feet landed. His stomach groaned. Despite the fresh morning air and stunning sun rays, Justin knew he wasn't on a weekend camping trip where he could produce snacks from his pack whenever he wanted. So, with a frown and a pat of his stomach, he set off. He followed the fence-line border of the garden until the forest thinned and the wall ended, and he emerged into a large clearing. Across the nearly two football fields worth of dirt, the plants began again and the fence stood once more like guard towers from some kind of a sci-fi movie. He had reached the entrance to the garden.
Now all he had to do was wait. It was Sunday. Lizzie always tended her garden on Sunday mornings. Justin's gaze drifted to the house, a far-off mountain range poking into the golden sky. Is she awake? How could anyone even live in something so big? He was a regular-sized guy, and Lizzie was shorter than him. There's no way she could have the equivalent of a small town all to herself.
A rumble behind him broke Justin's idle ponderings. Without warning, a great jet of water erupted just where in the forest across from him. Droplets rained down from above, and he could hear more geysers erupting within the garden, their plumes shooting up and joining the first one. They didn't have a sprinkler system; Lizzie had bewitched the earth itself.
WHOOSH! Justin was tossed away as the ground behind him buckled and burst. Drops of water bigger than his fists crashed around him. Wherever they hit instantly became a pudding-like mess. Justin was struck on the back, the drop exploding on impact while the force of it knocked him face-first into the dirt. More water splashed around him. He tried to rise to his feet, but his legs slipped out from under him, toppling him into the forming muck.
Mud was thrown in every direction with each falling water drop. Justin tried to wipe his eyes, but only succeeded in smearing the mess across the rest of his face. He managed to flip himself over, just in time for the viscous soup to fill the space around his body, and rush over his arms his legs, and the rest of him not long after. Struggling with all his might, he could only just keep the mud from flowing over his head.
Then, as suddenly as they started, the geysers ceased. The mounds they'd made receded into the ground, and the last of their jets plummeted into the quagmire. As excess water was miraculously drained away, Justin found enough purchase to pull himself upright. His feet hit something solid buried in the muck. He didn't know whether it was a root or simply less saturated soil, but whatever it was gave him enough leverage to keep everything above his armpits free of the mud. Using his hair as a kind of scrubber, Justin cleaned his hands as best he could. He spat out grains of dirt, and vigorously wiped his face. Giving his eyes a final scrape, he flicked away the mud and blinked rapidly to dislodge whatever remained. But something was obscuring the sun. Looking up, he saw a titan.
Dressed in a stained, white t-shirt, Lizzie stood over him examining her garden with a bucket of tools in each hand. Great towers of green rubber rose up on either side of Justin. The boots ended just below her knees, where they gave way to black yoga pants that clung to her tightly. A wide-brimmed straw hat was perched jauntily on her head. She closed her eyes and filled her chest with the fresh morning air. The giantess smiled.
“Aah,” she exhaled.
Justin watched her eyes pop open. Her leg lifted, and the giant boot swung over him. Dirt and mud fell from the deep treads, landing dangerously close to Justin but miraculously, none hit him.
“Lizzie!”
The boot plummeted through the sky, impacting right on top of him. The black walls of the tread fell all around him, pushing both he and the mud up to fill the gap. He hit the rubber ceiling, and the rushing mud pushed him to his back, flush against the boot. He squirmed, trying to find some pocket of air in this tomb of rubber and earth.
A second later he was rising. A thick layer of mud clung to his face, but he could feel the pull of inertia and the butterflies in his stomach as Lizzie's foot yanked him into the air. A half a moment and he was falling again, inertia now pushing him from below.
CRASH! Justin's world shook as Lizzie's foot plowed into the ground. The mud compacted even more tightly, pushed up from below. Justin's body gave way, compressing into the tread like he himself were part of the dirt. The witch took another step. Her boot rose into the air. Mud peeled away from Justin's face, pulled downward by the weight of more clumps sticking to it. He gasped for breath, somehow filling what he could of his compacted lungs with the first air they'd had since he'd been stepped on. His eyes fluttered open, and he caught a glimpse of the ground rushing up to meet him. He, and the boot he was attached to, slammed again into the mud.
On and on Lizzie trod. With every step of her left foot, Justin was lifted and slammed, lifted and slammed. Sometimes his face was forced into the ground, sometimes he happened to land above a trench in the dirt, and sometimes Lizzie wouldn't plant her foot completely in doing whatever task she was at and Justin was left hanging at, what was to him, only a few inches from the earth.
Justin and the boot lifted once more. Nausea churned in his belly; the repetition of Lizzie's footsteps was getting to him. Wind whipped passed his face as, again, the enormous shoe forced him to the ground. Except no, this time just before it made impact with the dirt, the boot continued its momentum.
Gravity twisted, and Justin watched the ground spin away until the sun shone directly into his face. He clenched his eyes. A rumble reverberated through the shoe, and a second later the light was cut off. He chanced a peek.
Her ebony hair hung down around her soft features. Justin could only just make out her freckles from the shadows, but her eyes appeared to shine like two suns captured by her face. Brow furrowed, Lizzie was staring right at him. Or at least, she seemed to be. Holding her foot with one hand, the other produced a stick. Justin felt her poke and prod at the tread somewhere above him until... A gray blur half his size whizzed passed him.
“Stupid pebble,” Lizzie mumbled. She dropped the twig, and made to lower her foot. Her eyes passed over Justin one last time... and stopped. She focused on him, squinting. “Justin? I thought I told you to get lost.”
She stared at him as if waiting for answer, but she started to wobble. Her hand slipped from her boot. Before Justin knew it, he was hurtling toward the ground. The mud grew closer, and closer, until he collided with a splat. Lizzie lifted her foot almost immediately, and Justin spat and shook what dirt he could from his face.
“Sorry, lost my balance,” she apologized, but her sincere expression held for only a moment. A wave of cold rage flashed across her face as she recognized and remembered. “Of course, it's your fault.” A smile broke through, and a twinkle returned to her eyes. “You must really love me if you're still here after what I did to you.”
“Lizzie, please!” Justin shouted, “Grow me back and we can talk about this!”
“Nuh-uh-uh. The only correct answer is yes.”
“Yes! I still love you! I'm sorry for whatever I did!”
Her smile grew as her giant fingers swooped down and dug Justin from the bottom of her boot. She scooped him into her palm, letting him tumble into the soft skin as she lifted her hand in front of her face. What seemed like an earthquake to Justin was only Lizzie replacing her foot on the ground. Fortunately, he was already lying on his stomach. The giant woman bent slightly, fidgeting with something below.
“I can forgive you, but first you have to do something for me.” she said sweetly. This was the girl Justin had fallen in love with; cheerful, playful, yet filled with her own kind of cunning, and despite the other attributes being on display, it was the last that frightened him, and the one he detected here.
“Anything for you,” he responded, feeling his stomach drop as the words left his mouth.
“Feel my pain.”
Her hand disappeared. Justin was falling. Far away he could see the toe of her boot, Lizzie's bare foot resting on top of it like a pink seal hoping to escape the sea of mud. A gaping hole swallowed him. He could just make out a number seven printed at the bottom, waiting for him as if it were a target to aim for. Luckily, Justin's legs landed first. Unfortunately, they didn't help much to halt his momentum. He collapsed in on himself like some kind of fleshy concertina. By the time his head reached the ground, he looked more like a coin than a man.
The floor beneath him was absolutely soaked. The smell of trapped sweat overpowered everything. He was forced staring up, seeing droplets of moisture clinging like icicles to the green roof of this new prison. The long chute he'd fallen down stopped abruptly, with only the blue sky hanging above it. This couldn't be happening. A ruddy behemoth glided into view above his only access to daylight. Its five heads wiggled, seemingly sniffing the air. Then, satisfied that its prey was captured, the monster entered its burrow.
All light was extinguished as the bulk of Lizzie's foot slid inside. Justin felt damp toes mush and probe him before continuing on their way. The ball of her foot sat down on him, covering him in the sweat it had kept collected in the few minutes Lizzie'd been outside. Justin's body compressed even further, his clay-like form sticking to the ball as the rest of the foot went on with its entry. When her heel finally popped into place, he'd been smeared across her appendage, his upper body pressed firmly beneath her pad with his lower stuck to her arch.
Justin felt her weight increase, until he was sure that the full force of her body was focused on him. Perspiration pooled around him as he was squeezed between Lizzie's sole and the saturated fabric at the bottom of her boot. Face against her rough skin, his flattened lungs could draw no breath and his lolling tongue could do nothing but taste her sweat and dead skin. He felt her muscles and tendons flex and that now-familiar feeling of her foot rising. Her foot lifted off, peeling Justin from the insole. It fell back down a moment later, pulverizing him beneath the sweaty monstrosity.
Step, step, step. Justin was Lizzie's passenger, stuck to the bottom of her foot as she walked through a garden more dear to her than he. He could feel every twist of her leg, every flex of her toes. He knew the increase in pressure when she crouched and the shift of gravity when she was on her hands-and-knees. She wasn't cruel to him, though, at least not that he could tell. Not once did Justin detect an intentional stomp or a conscious press. All of her movements seemed natural, just a girl tending to her flowers. She knew she was flattening a man stuck to her sole, drenching him in her sweat with every step. Yet not once did she seem to acknowledge him. Instead, she left him isolated in this foul, painful sauna. It was maddening.

He didn't know how long he'd been inside. He didn't know how he'd survived. But, when cool air hit him, Justin knew he was out. His back pressed against ice-cold tile as she took a few barefoot steps. He felt the world shift, and seconds later giant fingers were latching onto his legs and peeling him from Lizzie's hot, dripping foot. Turbulent winds wrapped his paper-like form around her hand as he was whipped through the air. When the movement stopped, he opened his eyes, and found that he was dangling upside-down in front of Lizzie's enormous face.
“Did you enjoy your morning?”
Justin didn't respond. He'd barely registered that she'd spoken, so drained was he both mentally and physically.
“No answer?” she asked, mocking him with the same tone one would use with an infant. “Are you too tired?” She gave him a shake, and blew warm, lemonade-scented breath into his face. “Oh, I have an idea! Remember how you sometimes liked to lay your head on my ass when we watched TV on the couch?”
Justin felt a breeze as Lizzie stood up. She brought him over her shoulder, giving him a quick glance of her kitchen in the process, until he was staring down her back. Far below, her prominent rear strained against the fabric of her pants. Her other massive hand reached down and pulled back her waistbands, revealing the pale mounds nestled within. The already-warm morning had caused beads of sudor to form. Justin watched as a droplet grew too big for itself and rolled down Lizzie's hills and into her canyon.
“What do you think? Comfy, right?” She released him. Justin fluttered down, and landed on the soaked, pink fabric of her panties. Her left ass-cheek lay before him, wobbling as she made a slight adjustment in her stance. Above, her devilish smile beamed at him as brilliantly as the twinkle in her eyes.
“I have some good news, too! I've decided you can stay, but you'll have to pay your rent in advance.” She shrugged. “Well, back to work.”
SNAP! Her pants flew back into position, slamming Justin into her soft, moist skin. The giant mound wiggled, vibrations traveling back and forth through the adipose. He heard Lizzie giggle above, and she started walking.
Up, down, up, down, up, down. Much like her boot, the repetition was noticeable from the start. Unlike the boot, Justin wasn't stuck to anything. Instead, he was being ground from both sides, with her skin rubbing against his front for one step, and then the fabric of her underwear scraping his back on the next. Her pants suddenly tightened, presumably so Lizzie could bend over to retrieve her shoes. Justin was forced against her cheek, but still he was not stuck. The pressure lightened, and he slipped a little further down, a little closer to the cleave. A few more steps, more grinding from skin and cloth. Her pants tightened again, and Justin felt the too-familiar sensation of free fall.
His vision was darkness and stars when her full weight fell on top of him. At least this time, instead of being between foot and floor, or foot and shoe, he was between ass and panties. The way her skin conformed to whatever she was sitting on meant that Justin was smothered entirely by the mass of flesh, but he had to admit, it was a much softer experience.
He felt her enormous glutes flex as she maneuvered her feet, and not even a minute later she was standing up again. Now, Justin was stuck. Pressed into the shape of smushed gum, he may as well have been her new tattoo. In a brief moment of mental acuity, the tiny man wondered if the fabric of her panties had left an impression on his back. An impression that would surely be eroded away little-by-little with each step she took before he was plucked from this prison. Justin heard the sliding door to their backyard open and close.
Lizzie and her passenger were outside now. In mere seconds, Justin's world had risen in temperature exponentially. Sweat trickled down from her back, flowing over the squished man as if he were merely a part of her cheek. And the smell... where the boot had been stale, earthy, and cheesy, this part of Lizzie was sharp and acrid. Justin considered himself lucky she hadn't placed him between the two mounds, or that he wasn't near the bottom of her bottom. At least the perspiration was “fresh” where he was.
The giant woman seemed to get back to work straight away. Her walking was threatening to give Justin carpet burn, but luckily Lizzie spent much of this time on her hands-and-knees, so he was relatively still. At these times the pressure from her panties seemed more like a tight blanket. He almost dozed off a few times, but just as his eyes were beginning to close, Lizzie would sit up, and all the accumulated sweat of her back would rush over him. Sometimes, when the fabric behind him would loosen, Justin's head would slip from the grasp of the woman's skin. His wide-open mouth would inevitably catch a drop of salty liquid, and then before he could spit, she would bend over and he was once more pressed back into her posterior. Again, like her shoe, Lizzie didn't seem to be going out of her way to cause him misery. Everything she did would logically follow the course of her last movement; she'd bend down, do work, bend down, do work, with some manner of walking or shuffling in between. And here he was, clinging firmly to her ass the entire time. What was once an object of his sexual desire was now his punishment, his jail cell. And he was stuck here for the rest of the day at least, with Lizzie doing what she always did on a Sunday. Justin found himself wishing she'd get angry again, hoping that she'd stomp on him or viciously sit on him. Anything that would get her to focus her attention on him.
He imagined Lizzie ripping him from her ass and tossing him to the ground, stomping on him over and over, while she hurled insult after insult at him. He imagined her in the epitome of her rage, jumping on him with both boots on, mashing him against the tile floors of their kitchen. But then her anger would subside, and she'd grow him back, and hug and kiss him, and cry. He'd forgive her, and after a shower and some lovemaking, they'd be on the couch watching TV until dinnertime.
A splash of sweat tore him from this delirium, bringing him back to his harsh reality. She wasn't angry anymore. She was no longer doing this for revenge. No, now she was just having fun. Justin was her plaything. Ignored, trapped in her pants with no way of escape and no way of pleading his case before the goddess. He'd been sentenced to solitary confinement, to be an accessory she only had to think about when she cared to.

By the time Lizzie was retreating inside from the afternoon sun, Justin no longer wanted to be released from his sweaty, smelly cage of flesh and fabric: he just wanted his lover to acknowledge him.
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