Brittany threw her head back and shucked down her 10th Oyster of the night. Her long tongue had no issues with pulling the mollusk from its shell.

Tracy cringed and gagged. She absolutely hated seafood and, unfortunately, her position around Brittany’s thumb got her up close and personal each time Brittany grabbed another delicacy.

With a slurp and smack of her lips, Brittany threw the empty shell from her hand into a bucket placed in the middle of the table. A satisfying ping echoed up from the bucket as Brittany reached for another Oyster. She made sure to get her thumb as close as possible to the slick and salty surface.

Tracy wanted to scream, but physically could not as Brittany had crippled her voice box for the night. The last thing Brittany wanted was Tracy thinking she still had any say as a former executive.

“You know she hates Seafood, right?” A voice from Brittany’s left grabbed her attention.

Brittany held up her left finger to indicate that she needed a second as she slurped down her just acquired treat.

“Oh,” Brittany turned her head, her tongue licking the salty bring from her lips, “I absolutely know. But she eats shoe bread, so I don’t really think her taste matters all that much anymore.”

This earned a small laugh from Brittany’s cohort to the left. “Ohhh, Tracy.” The voice began “I remember how you used to control the menu whenever we all went out. Can’t have X, must have Y. Now look at you. A mark of success on another woman’s career.”

“Damn, Margot. Cutting straight to it, huh?” Brittany raised her eyebrows to the 6ft 7in Brunette to her left. Margot Nolan, the director of Customer Services for Vilecio South.

“Too mean?” Margot looked genuinely apologetic, “I’m sorry, once I get a few Old Fashions in me, I loose my filter.”

Brittany patted Margot’s back, “No! What you said was absolutely perfect. We can’t have little Tracy here forgetting her place in the world.”

Margot smiled and then reached her hand toward the center of the table to grab a Smoked Salmon roll. Brittany couldn’t help but notice a bracelet of three male shrinkees wrapped around Margot’s wrist.

“I love your bracelet.” Brittany pointed.

Margot blushed as she pulled her hand back from the table, “Oh thank you! I know it’s not much, they’re my only 3 right now, but I’m hoping to have a collection like yours one day.”

“To our success.” With this, Brittany raised her Martini and Margot raised her Old Fashion. The two clinked glasses happily.

As she took a sip of her Cocktail, Margot looked around the table. Besides herself and Margot there were:

Tasha Mortensen – A 7ft 3in African American woman. She was a couple years older than Brittany at 28 years-old and served as the Vice President of PR for Vilecio East.

Heather Yates – Another 7 footer. Her red hair and freckles popped-out in the soft lighting of the room. She was also the oldest of the group at 32. Vice President of Finances for Vilecio Cascadia.

Penelope Yu – The smallest at the table at only 6ft 5in, but she was quickly moving up. She worked under Heather as a transfer from the Beijing office, though originally born and raised in Atlanta.

Together, the five women enjoyed the spread set before them. A seemingly never-ending supply of small snacks and drinks to fill their unending appetites. They sat overlooking the Mississippi River from a private room in a restaurant which Margot’s mother owned.

“So did you all hear about the new Sexual Harassment program?” Tasha spoke up.

“Oh yeah!” Brittany replied, “Francesca was showing me the results first hand the other day.”

“So, it’s apparently cut down payroll by 5%. Coincidentally, 5% of Vilecio’s male employees now average under 5 inches.” Tasha continued. “It’s really been great for morale. A lot of our younger girls didn’t think they’d find a place for themselves at the top, but their male coworkers so graciously made room!”

This earned laughter around the table.

“A little secret.” Heather leaned in, “This also allows us to pay the men A LOT less in-case they fear retaliation.”

More laughter.

“Ope. Sorry. I forgot we were in mixed company.” Heather was briefly embarrassed as a male waiter poured her another glass of water.

“It is no matter, ma’am.” The waiter replied, “Miss Nolan’s family pays me I think more than enough to get by on.” He bowed and moved out the room.

“Well he was very pleasant.” Penelope spoke after a sip of water.

“Oh, that’s Ted.” Margot spoke, “He was my high-school sweetheart, but then dumped me when he went Tuscaloosa. I had daddy ruin his family with some lawsuits and now he works for us. I always ask that he be my waiter when I have a date or event.”

“That’s how you do it!” Heather smacked the table in satisfaction.

Brittany continued to sip on her cocktail as she enjoyed the conversation. Her mind thought briefly to Ben between her cheeks. A quick tap of the ear and she felt his miniscule tongue working in the crevice which he was trapped. Her eyes travelled around the table and took in the sight. Shrinkees had grown more popular than precious metals and diamonds in recent years. Especially at Vilecio where higher-ups enjoyed the fruits of their labor in more than one way.

Tasha wore, no less than 4 shrinkee rings on hare large fingers and a necklace made up of 5 shrinkees dangled around her neck; it hung just barely over her cleavage.

Penelope, meanwhile, went the minimal route. She wore a red-haired woman wrapped around her left big toe and a bracelet on her left arm of 1 large shrinking, probably about 8 inches.

Heather wore the most shrinkees, Brittany counted 12 at one point. She really admired Heather’s creativity as well. The older woman had placed her blonde hair into a bow style. Two shrinkees acted as hair clips. Of coursed her toes were adorned in shrinkees and her ears each had a platinum blonde dangling from them.

“They’re not natural.” Heather quipped at Brittany as she caught the younger woman staring at her earrings.

“Huh-what?” Brittany stumbled over her words as she was pulled from her thoughts.

“Not natural. Little Cathy here, Heather tapped the writhing woman on her left ear, was a tan brunette. While Monica, Heather flicked the woman on her right ear, was a red-head. I really wanted a matching pair, and men would not be as elegant, so I had some work done.”

“They’re gorgeous.” Brittany replied in admiration and jealousy. She wished she had taken the effort to modify Tanner and Lyle.

“Thank you. One is my former sister-in-law. She married my brother and had the gall to cheat on him WHILE working for me. The other is my actual sister. She was the older, smarter, prettier one. However, when she found herself without a job, it was little sis to the rescue. Now they both get to hang around while I live my best life.” A sadistic smile crossed Heather’s face as she took a sip of wine.

“Is that Little Miss Tracy I see?” Tasha spoke next while looking at Brittany’s thumb.

Brittany looked down and saw Tracy turn a bright shade it red. “Why yes it is, thank you for noticing!” Brittany smiled back.

“I was wondering what Ann did with her after failing on the SMOL Russia rollout last year.” Tash was obviously curious.

“Oh yes. When I got promoted one time last year, Francesca gave her to me as a gift. She said it was to remind me of where I was going and to always stay focused lest I become like Tracy…would you like to try her on?” Brittany finished her sentence with the question to Tash.

“Oh I couldn’t.” The larger woman waved her hand sheepishly.

“No, I insist.” Brittany slipped Tracy from her thumb and tossed her to Tasha who caught the smaller woman easily in her palm.

Brittany watched as Tash smirked while rolling Tracy around in her hand. The giant woman inspected the shrinkee like a hawk toying with its food. “Ya know. When I first started here, I worked directly under Tracy. “

“Really?” Brittany was unaware of this fact

“Oh yeah. Graduated top of my class. Had a scholarship to an MBA program. She wanted me to be her secretary.” Tasha slipped Tracy over her left thumb while she spoke.

“No way! You’re, like, one of the smartest people I know. Heck, I model my career after yours.” Brittany was shocked.

“She absolutely did.” Tash confirmed, “Well, I guess now she learned her place?” Tasha held out her hand to admire her former boss wrapped around her thumb.

“Oh. I’ll say she’s just not putting only her own foot into her mouth nowadays.” Brittany joked.

Laughter from around the table followed.

“Dang. This really does feel nice.” Tasha continued to manipulate Tracy in her hands.

“You know. I’d be more than welcome to loan her to you for however you’d like.” Brittany spoke to, Tasha

“Oh. I couldn’t. She represents so much to you.” Tasha tried to protest.

“It’s okay! I have enough shrinkees and have a feeling I’ll have one or two more after this week.” Brittany alluded to her upcoming promotion.

“If you insist.” Tasha shrugged and reached under the table.

Brittany was curious until Tasha pulled her right foot from under the table. Tracy was wrapped perfectly around her big toe.

“Now. That! Is where the executive belongs. Ground floor. Tasha Tower!”

“Oh god!” Brittany let out a humorous scream and Tracy struggled against the titanic digit.

“Careful, ma’am. I haven’t showered all day after playing tourist, so they may be a bit ripe.” Tasha yelled down to her new captive before sliding her feet underneath the table once more.

“I think that’s a perfect note to end the night on. Don’t you, ladies?” Margot spoke and received an affirmative around the table. “Great. Ted, be a doll and clean up this mess.” Margot watched as Ted scurried into the room and began clearing the remaining food and dirty dishes from the table. “Good boy.” She spoke one last time as the quintet rose from their seats. Her height belittling Ted’s 5ft 10in body.

The women hugged one another outside the restaurant and said their goodbyes. Promises were made about meeting again and making this an annual tradition. Nobody knew if they would hold, but it was nice to think they’d all be around next year.

Brittany walked back home. It was only 2 miles, and she didn’t really have much to fear at her height. Beside all Vilecio Exec’s were tracked by the company. So if anything did happen to her, she was pretty sure Ann or Francesca would have a security force to her location quickly.

Once again, her trusty flip-flops had replaced her heels. Her massive purse would be the size of a backpack on a smaller woman, but it was a perfect handbag at her current size.

As she walked, her phone buzzed. “V. Read message.” She commanded as V read the message in her ear.

From: Intern Jenn

Miss D! I could not wait to tell you. I secured a position with Vilecio after graduation next year! And, guess what, they’re starting me with a promotion. I’m going to be 6ft even when I start! I can’t wait to begin working for you!

Brittany smiled. She was the one who had pushed all the paperwork through and slipped in the promotion as well. Actually it was to replace one of her guys who was the victim of the new HR hunt, but it was a bonus to make Jenn happy. Brittany was raised alone, so it almost felt like she had a little sister to watch over now.

“V. Send reply.”

Happy 4 U 😊

As she walked, Brittany enjoyed the slap of her flip-flops against her soles. Her human toe rings constantly licking her digits was a nice touch. Suddenly another buzz.

“V. Play message.”

“Britt. I need you to present trophies tomorrow. I will be out of town
-FH”

Brittany stopped in her tracks. Handing out trophies was a huge honor. Literally deciding a person’s fate for the rest of their lives. Normally this was only done by C-suite Vilecio Execs, but most regional offices relied on somebody coming from HQ. Francesca giving her this task was almost like a dry run to be a C-level exc. Brittany screamed with happiness and nearly ran home, much to the chagrin of her shrinkees.

THE NEXT DAY

Brittany stood dressed in a Purple Blouse and Slim Khakis. Her feet adorned with a pair of black flats. Within her left flat, Lyle and Roger acted as Insoles while Hailey and Regina were in her right flat. She wiggled her toes with glee, unintentionally pounding her shrinkees faces.

“…and with that, I, Brittany Dunham, officially commence the Quarter 1 demotion ceremony…”

“Amanda Vitale, please step forward.” Brittany watched as a 5ft 8in woman stepped from the 6 people lined up before her in the lobby of their building. Demotion ceremonies were always held in building’s lobbies for all to see. They acted as a recruiting tool for new employees and a deterrent for existing ones.

“Amanda, I am happy to present to you V-ID: 678549, formerly Henry Anderson.” Amanda presented the shrinkee in a clear case which displayed his naked, sobbing body for all to see.

“Oh my god. No way. Henry was my cubicle mate. I was wondering where he disappeared to earlier this week. He used to always beg me to keep my shoes on because of how much my feet bothered him.” Amanda raised the case to her face, “I know what you’ll be doing, little guy.” Amanda skipped away with sardonic glee.

Brittany shook her head; she remembered her first trophy ceremony. How ecstatic she was to hold Ben in her hands. How she felt like a god with another person’s life at her control.

“George Blankenship.” She called the next name. “Uh. Here, miss.” A scrawny 5ft 9in man approached. Obviously not blessed with the best physical genetics. “George, I am happy to present you V-ID 78749, formerly known as Trey Henderson.”

“Oh geez! This is great.” George replied in monotone, “Trey, my buddy, you’re going to be helping me with my models from now on.” George spoke to the man in his hand who screamed and pounded the glass.

Thus, Brittany worked through the list until getting to the last name.

“Roberta Gonzales.” Brittany’s call was answered as a 5ft 11in woman stepped forward. “
Roberta, I am pleased to present you V-ID:98777, formerly…Robert Gonzales?” Brittany lifted an eyebrow.

“No relation.” Roberta replied matter of factly before snatching her trophy and galloping back to work.

With a laugh, Brittany announced the end of the ceremony and thanked all those who attended. She did not return to her office, however. Instead she walked outside to enjoy the building’s garden area. A beautiful day, she wanted to sit outside and contemplate her success. Also, she wanted to check on Regina who was on vagina duty this week.

Once outside, Brittany sat a bench in the shade of a Magnolia tree and stretched out. She closed her eyes to relax, but was interrupted by a femine voice.

“Noooo! That’s not how you do it, you’re going to starve to death. You have to get each crumb. I know you’d rather die, but I’m not going to let you…”

Brittany opened her eyes and rose from her lounging position. Carefully, she walked to where the voice was coming from. A secluded corner of the garden.

“Here. Let me get more for you.” Brittany watched as one of the trophy winners sat on a bench, her legs stretched in front of her. Her trophy at her bare feet failingly wildly.

“What’s going on?” Brittany stepped from her hiding spot and approached the girl who jumped with fright.

“Oh! Miss Dunham! I, uh, was trying to give my little guy lunch.” The girl shyly looked down to her feet which were covered in “Shrinkee Slop” as it had been called. A cheap way to feed shrinkees as they couldn’t eat a lot of real food.

“And why this way?” Brittany was curious now. Most people gave their shrinkees shoe bread or let them eat from from a slop bowl.

“Well, my shrinkee,” the girl began but was interrupted by Brittany.

“V-ID:75223, Brandon Hansen?”

The girl nodded, “He’s actually my best friend’s older brother. He’s 6 years older than us both and would always bully my best friend growing up. So when he found out I was getting his older brother, he asked if I would force him to eat from my feet and record it for him. So then he’d have something to play at family get togethers.”

“That is so ridiculously cruel. I love it!” Brittany slapped her thigh. “Let me help.”

The girl pulled her feet back and Brittany stepped forward, but remained standing, “Hey little guy, do you know who I am?” she asked, tuning her implant to pick up his voice.

“You’re Battleaxe Britt.” He replied.

Brittany laughed, “Is that seriously what you all call me downstairs?”

The girl shrugged why the miniature man nodded.

“Well, listen here, Brandon. You’re in a new world now.” Brittany slid off her flats as she spoke, much to the relief of her shrinkees. “And your entire existence relies on this girl here.” She pointed to the girl sitting still on the bench.

“Fuck her and fuck my brother. They’re not going to humiliate me.”

Brittany shrugged and lifted her right foot above little Brandon, its shadow blocking the Sun. She quickly dropped it, pressing the man into the concrete below and her sole above. His muffle screams buried into her instep.

“Oh yeah. That’s the stuff.” Brittany turned her head to the girl. “See, you can’t be nice with them. No pleases. No thank you’s. That’s why they were demoted. They did not know how to listen. At this stage, you have to be direct and rough with them.” She lifted her foot and stepped back, “Now you try.” Brittany extended her hand and helped the girl up. The difference in size was amazing.

The girl lifted her foot into the air and paused. She glanced at Brittany who smiled and gave a thumbs up.

The girl’s foot plunged onto Brandon, trapping him once again, though not nearly as rough as Brittany had done.

“Now tell him you mean business.”

“Listen, Brandon.” The 23 year-old began, “I don’t care if you don’t want to do this. Your life is mine now. Whatever I say you do. Got it?” She looked toward Brittany for reassurance.

Brittany clapped her hands with glee, “More!”

“If I say lick my feet, you lick my feet. If I fart, you say it smells nice. If I spit on the ground, you drink it up.”

Brittany could see the confidence coming into the young woman.

The girl lifted her foot after some minutes of this. Both she and Britt stood side by side staring down at the beaten and humiliated figure. Their hands on their hips, they looked like Amazonian warriors.

“Are you going to listen now, or do I have to sick the Battleaxe on you again?” The woman asked.

Brandon answered her question by running over and licking between the toes of her left foot.

“Good boy!” The girl shouted. “Now my foot is sticky. Here, lick this up too.” Globules of spit trailed from the smaller woman’s mouth and landed on her toes.

“Thanks, Miss Dunham.” The woman honestly looked like she was about to cry with happiness as she pulled out her phone and began recording.

At this scene, Brittany placed her feet back into her flats and turned heel. On her way through the lobby, she watched as a group of Directors had their toes pampered by demoted interns.