This can be seen as a general and alternative vision of all that precedes, and is not "canon," to put it a certain way.

ALTERNATE 1

I woke up in her house and discovered that I was absurdly small, so much so that she couldn't even see me, and so my life was suddenly reduced to nothing, to living at her feet, to starvation, cold and sickness, to being dirty, famelic and ragged as I see her far away unconcerned for me, with her thick thighs and her hanging tits rumbling by her ass, radiant and imposing, no matter if I end up as an invisible stain while she manages to get out, I have reduced myself and so I will remain forever, staying with her, my body would be so weak that I should protect myself while she talking, even at a short distance her voice would be so powerful that it could disintegrate me, and to see how in a few days without difficulty she get a new boyfriend much better than me and the fact of having to see impotent as he fucks her very hard while I masturbate with the image, as a girdle, as she kisses others and progresses in life while I am almost a bacterium, with no future, with her locking me in a ring, for me as big as a small city, pretending and playing that she crushes me with her huge body, with her brown skin while she laughs innocent, ignoring my terror, putting me in different parts, in her sexy and deep navel, between the black jungle, humid and warm of her crotch, or at the top of her tits, huge mountains to my perspective, finally enclosing me in a pendant as a souvenir, "My first boyfriend" says sarcastically engraved, reduced to a bacterium in a small pendant eclipsed by her tits as she walks smiling from the hand of her current boyfriend, tall and fit... And in the background a couple of guys turning to see her ass and her legs wiggling through the short lycra.

With the passing of weeks she would forget about me until she went on with her life as if nothing had happened, I would have to try to survive living like less than an insect, eating anything, enduring the terrible cold of the night and the icy floor while she is hot in her bed, I should also avoid freaking out, avoid getting depressed, although I would see it difficult, see suddenly that my whole life of aspirations is cut off forever just for the fun of it and see that in a few weeks she doesn't even remember I'm there, to be condemned forever to a solitary life and always on the verge of an insignificant death, listening to her thunderous laughter on me shattering my bells, her talks on the phone, and the grave and deep sound of her steps, while she continues to live her life alien to my suffering, masturbating when I see her naked, dressing to go out or doing anything, because it would already be more than unattainable, only the memory of when I had all that in my hands would remain, months would pass and she wouldn't remember me, or care a bit, perhaps when I wandered I would find more small men, reduced by her, frustrated suitors, or ex bf, all unbalanced, crazy for the new life at her feet, crying in panic after saving us from dying and seeing us insignificant between her massive feet extending towards the sky, to escape would be a bad idea, dangerous in addition, to cross during days the immense white desert of her floor with the constant risk of her footsteps, and days of travel because what I would travel in one day would be the length of one of her feet, besides, I would leave a relatively safe place to an unknown world, in her flat at least she could eat of the crumbs that fell from her food, plates of her skin, and drink of her condensed sweat on the floor, sheltered by her enormous and hot body, away from it I would die, and it was ironic, I was condemned to live near her because I lived from her, and probably for her I would die too. Suddenly she would look for me when she asked herself what had become of me, and she would find me, perhaps living among the fibers of her bed next to the mites near where she lays her enormous buttocks, so at night her body heat would shelter me without crushing me with her immense weight, she would be surprised to see me alive, because she would think that I had died a long time ago, when she would see me in a microscope she would laugh, she would say something humiliating when she saw me naked, dirty, malnourished, then I would put myself back in the ring, and from there I would see her for days, sometimes I would break and cry desperately at seeing her over my head, and see myself impotent and insignificant, remembering when I had her in my hands, masturbating me, making countless pathetic wanks admiring her thighs and thick legs, her vagina with nothing under her blouse, and her ass trembling and moving at every step along with her tits to the air highlighting the undeniable and the physical difference, I every day more horrible, thin and emaciated, with the ribs marked and the face greasy, and she every day more radiant and delicious, happy with her curves marked, and her itchy smile, having more relationships, boyfriends one after another, seeing every 2 weeks a different man kissing her, kissing her sweet mouth, because the vision of her legs, of her body on a huge scale and of her fucking as a whore in front of me not even remembering that I saw her, moving so rich on her boyfriend lying, naked, divine, so rich and sexy, taking her boyfriend's dick, pointing it at her vagina and then slowly descending along with a moan of pleasure as she entered, in the shadow of the bounces of her ass while she was sitting and moaning like a lustful goddess, I, helplessly hardened and masturbating in spite of how humiliating It was, and I was curious, because I could see her one day like that, fucking like a goddess, and soon after doing something innocent. Always reminding me that for her I was nothing anymore.

She would show me pictures of her suitors giving me details about what she thinks, or what she is going to do, after meeting she would get ready to go out and ask me which clothes she looks better, if with a short skirt or a short and stockings, with or without neckline, heels or tennis, and so she would go between the sound and the tremor of her steps to come back later and say goodbye kissing intensely to her date, in front of my eyes, hearing her speak sweetly, say beautiful words, and sometimes have fleeting and beautiful relationships like the ones I've never had, like they give her bouquets of enormous flowers while they tell her how fabulous she is...

It would be something less than a perverse pet, a pet at least you can see, so someday it could be that Gaby was getting ready to go out and sit on the furniture, without remembering that I was there, at this point there would be nothing left of me.

Enclosed in the pendant, always hung, nobody would even notice me, always crying and depressed, eclipsed by her tits while  Gaby fucks like a whore, grabbing her boyfriend's penis while he kneads her ass, while she passionately kisses someone tall and muscle. Desperate, miserable and on the verge of collapse, she successful and carefree, studying and with friends, love and happiness, always beautiful, me forever trapped as an invisible adornment between her tits, "My first boyfriend" is read next to a close up letting see my insignificance and deplorable state next to the one who was once my girlfriend, as she says to the other sweet words in his ear, climbing up in his legs rubbing her vagina against that hardened penis, rounding his neck with her hands and giving him a kiss at the end while I watch everything darken as the pendant is crushed between her soft breasts. As they walk home to fuck, where I would once again see their delicious huge buttocks bouncing back as I cover my ears so that their whorely groans don't hurt me. Sometimes I would think while I see her in a short and her thick legs crossed at a distance that maybe I could get out of that miserable life talking to her, but then I would react, she wouldn't even remember my existence, 2 years had already passed, and it would be so small and insignificant that I couldn't see myself, much less hear myself, and thirdly, so that I could talk to her I wouldn't go back to normal, she would ask for it, she would laugh at me, say something humiliating to me, and I would ignore that if I could articulate a word to her, for I would be astonished to speak to her again, as I looked up at her legs, her hip and behind her tits, Gaby, with her thundering voice bursting my eardrums in the shadow of her hanging tits as she crouches down to approach me... A being smaller than a speck of dust begging for her life, I would walk around laughing at how her steps throw me to the ground and how I cry begging her for a chance, Gaby didn't care if I lived or died, if I was cold or hungry, if I was still in her shadow or had died under her stockings.