That evening when I hopped off the train, I decided to take the long way home. And strangely, I kept my eyes on the ground the whole time. Those last few hours had been rather arduous, I turned my nose up at the foul stench radiating off me. A terrible concoction of body odour and fluids. Mine and theirs. My blouse had lost multiple buttons, my bra was half on show too. There was a rip down my skirt and my stockings had been completely tattered. I wasn’t sure where my shoes were.

I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for over 24 hours either. My stomach was yelling at me to do something about it. There were some vending machines outside a convenience store near where I lived, they hummed as I approached. To my dismay, all the good stuff was in the machines I was too small to reach.

Even the smallest machine was designed for someone a little bigger than myself. A big three was titled at the top and my eye followed upwards to a four and a five. Those machines double and quadruple the size respectively. Tantalising goodies were hidden behind their cool glass, slices of pizza, fresh burgers, hot fries, a variety of iced tea and soda and hot coffee in cans, all lit up by luminous blue light. My mouth was practically watering from the sight.

If only.

The selection in front of me caused a weary sigh. Warm cans of water and beer were the only drinks on offer and the food was drab, a single ham sandwich all alone on the shelf, the lone light flickered occasionally.

I hovered my finger over the water button before deciding to get the beer and the sandwich instead. My home – my shed, wasn’t far so with some effort I cracked into my drink and set off. The sandwich was gross, the bread was stale and the ham did not taste like ham but I forced it down anyway. The beer was okay – beer’s always okay. I strolled down a dimly lit road and turned right into my street. The houses all looked the exact same. Sleek, modern and boring. There was no soul in residential architecture these days.

In school they taught us about the roaring twenties, a time period in the United States where entire neighbourhoods were mass constructed out of cheap materials and branded in an almost utopian fashion, the promise of a beautiful house in a homely neighbourhood with your loving family. The American Dream, the beginning of planned obsolescence. Supposedly, the same sort of thing happened when Size Tax was introduced, albeit vastly different in scale. Though, this time it wasn’t because of economic prosperity, it was out of necessity since humanity had grown so vast and numerous that we were hurtling toward our demise. Or something like that, I told you I didn’t listen much in school.

I climbed through my neighbour’s front gate and crossed the front lawn to my house. I always laugh when I refer to my house as my house. It’s a goddamn garden shed. My parents managed to spruce it up, using some plasterboards to create rooms and my dad made a variety of furniture from old wooden scraps. There is furniture and houses for people of my size, but nothing we can afford. We must live frugally if we want to hold onto some semblance of normal life, hang on for dear life to the Third.

If we dropped to the Second we’d be on a slippery slope. No one has ever heard of a successful business owner who is barely 10 inches tall. Besides my parents would be much too small to provide any form of adequate cleaning service.

The light was still on inside even though it was past eleven. Mum was up knitting, waiting for me. She sat on a thrifted couch with a yarn and needle softly smiling as I walked in. She’s exactly what I imagine I’ll look like in the future. Homely and unassuming.

“Hey honey.”

“Hi.”

Her eyes fell to my hands where I had an empty beer can and the remnants of a sandwich. “Oh, you got dinner?”

“Yeah, only cause I had to stay back so late.”

“That’s uh… Why so late?”

I was stumped for a second. I was not ready to discuss why. My little allocated space was across the room, behind a thin partition, mum noticed my staring.

“Well, you know how I’ve been a little sick. I had to make some time up,” I said and tried a smile.

“Right, that makes sense. Hey, why rush off. Why don’t you take a seat, I’ll make you a tea.”

“I’m not really in the mood mum.”

She just stared at me with these dead eyes.

“Are you okay Sylvie?”

“What? Yes, obviously I’m okay.”

“You look like you’ve been attacked.”

“I fell over, I’m okay.”

“Sylvie where have you been?”

I just shrugged. “Work.”

“Why won’t you ever tell me the truth?”

“That is the truth.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I promise.”

She sighed and rubbed her temples. “Your 21st is coming up.”

“I’m hoping to jump off a bridge before then.”

Another dead stare, fair enough. “You know Dad and I can’t support you anymore. If there was something I could do, I would, but we can’t afford to keep you with us in the Third if you don’t change something.”

She says as if I don’t know that.

“I know, it’s okay. I actually got promoted today.”

“Really?” She didn’t believe me. “H-how’d you get promoted?”

“My call numbers were off the charts.”

“Right, right. That’s great honey. So, did they give you a raise?”

“You’re awfully curious tonight.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“I told you I’m fine.”

Mum was fidgeting a lot, she looked down and shook her head. “Then why have you not left your room for three days! And then you come home this late, looking and smelling how you do. How can I believe you?”

“I’m not doing this right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“I’m done here.”

“Why Sylvie?”

“Because I don’t fucking want to!”

She stood up to block me so I pushed past her and slammed my door shut behind me. I jumped onto my bed and screamed into a pillow.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the corrugated iron ceiling. Doing my darndest to zone out and fade away into nonexistence. My phone buzzed and when I flipped it open I had a message from Stella.

‘hey u okay?’

I stared at it for a minute before lobbing it across the room.

As the night progressed, it all started to creep back in. That goddamn boardroom. Goddamn Greta, Aubrey and Dana. Goddamn Greta. In what I thought was a great turn of events eventually turned sour. Eileen left shortly after I orgasmed on her foot, she told me I was free to go home tonight and would need to be in her office by 7am tomorrow. She wouldn’t make eye contact with me as she left me in the room with the three hungry managers. Unlike the others Eileen seemed far less eager to play with me. It broke my little heart.

First they convinced Dana to lick my face, which she did with extreme hesitation and even gagged afterward. It was kind of rude, surely I don’t taste that bad. Then they tried to convince her to put me in her cleavage, she chickened out and only wanted to watch.

To prove a point, Aubrey snatched me up and pulled her sports bra open and let me fall between her boobs. As I peered upward, she pressed them together and sealed me in a day’s worth of sweat, Greta cackled outside the fleshy prison when Aubrey started to rub her tits together. I came in there, twice.

When I was eventually fished out, it was Greta’s turn. She took her pumps off and let them clatter on the table, the mouths of her footwear emanated a balmy stink that had my eyes watering. I was pushed onto my back by her big toe as she stroked and circled and fondled my body. Over and over again I was pushed to climax, it went on for what felt like hours. At some point I think Aubrey and Dana got too uncomfortable or bored of watching and excused themselves saying they’ll see Greta tomorrow.

I was drenched in her sweat and mine as she relentlessly toyed with my body. Once the others had left, she resorted to masturbation and dirty talk. She was talking to herself the whole time, taunting me, random trains of thought and then back to abusing me. She’s more insane than I’d thought. Eventually, by the time I lost count of how many times I’d shuddered under her toe, she replaced her foot with her face as she blocked everything else with her enormous visage. I laid under her stare panting with my eyes glazed over. If only I knew what a problem she would become.

“You’re so teensy tiny.”

I hardly had the energy to form any coherent reply.

“I would so take you home with me if I could. Ugh, it’d be so obvious.”

Finally I managed a groan and flopped onto my stomach, my arms shaking as I tried to get up. Greta’s finger pinned me back down and she chuckled. “I guess someone’s gotta let you out huh.”

My vision went black as she grabbed my lifeless body, her fingers smelt of dank fish. She must have woken me up at ground floor because she let me out onto the cold street and walked off, rugged in her fur jacket. I remember standing there shaking in my destroyed clothes, wondering if someone would notice me.

Foolish of me to believe anything would be any different. No one noticed me. No one has ever noticed me.

The one question that’d been burning in my mind was why would they let me leave so easily? It felt strangely anticlimactic, I’d been caught and confronted and now I was homebound, apparently with an oath of trust that I would return.

There were a few reasons I could think of.

First was that I was in the wrong, if anything legal happened I’d most likely be the one to go down, no way could I afford a good lawyer. And well, I had been the one to take and send explicit photos. Can’t imagine that would win any points with the jury. If I didn’t show up they’d bury me sixty feet under.

Second was that they just didn’t care, it made sense, I was so much smaller than them. I’m used to being eye level with the stomach to thigh on most people, not the size of a figurine. I hardly mattered to them, if I piped up and tried to do anything, it might go terribly wrong and if I never showed up, they might not even question it. People like me, they go missing all the time. And people like them, they operate on another level of the law.

Third was that they knew I would come back for more. And of course I did.

The census date was only a few weeks away, it fell on the 18th of June, also my birthday. It’s like some kind of sick joke. Every single birthday I spent waiting in line for hours at the nearest Size Centre, mum, dad and I waiting in silence to be either reduced or remain stagnant. Over the span of age thirteen to eighteen I steadily decreased from 2’7 to 2’.

And once I turned 21 my size would be dependent on my own income, and my bank account was looking incredibly sparse, I’d been playing online slot machines to fill the time during my latest manic episode. I wouldn’t only drop to the Second, no I’d be in the First. Barely six inches tall. I’d lose my job and then before I know it I’m a Sub. Out of the system and a mite living in the cracks of the sidewalk. Did you know that life expectancy of a Sub is only 24 years old? So don’t blame me for being self-destructive.

I arrived at Eileen’s office at a quarter to seven. Dressed in a new blouse but the same ripped skirt, I ditched the stockings, they were far beyond saving. As the elevator raced upward, I adjusted the little blue clip in my hair. I felt as if Eileen and I had got off on the wrong foot and perhaps she could be swayed with my charm.

When the doors slid open, the soft smile I donned immediately faded, Greta was sitting in Eileen’s chair, absorbed in her phone.

The doors shut behind me with a heavy clunk, sealing my escape and forcing me onward.

Until this point, I hadn’t considered if I should be afraid of Greta. Before I’d been exposed, I saw her as a minor nuisance but that night in the boardroom made me see her in a different light. She had a strange interest in me, which isn’t exactly the worst thing in the world. What made me scared was that I would have to reject her if it came to it.  

What made me terrified was that Eileen was nowhere to be seen.

I caught the lift up the desk and walked into the harsh lamplight squinting my eyes as Greta’s enormous form came into view. It had been two weeks since I’d been introduced to giants from the Sixth but their size still took my breath away. Her huge maw gaped open and a bellowing yawn rumbled overhead. She lounged back and rapidly tapped away at her smartphone. A huge pink bubble expanded from her mouth and I jumped when it popped. She brought it back in her mouth and kept chewing.

In some act of defiance, I decided to remain quiet and wait for her to notice me. I crossed my legs and sat down on the dark navy leather desktop gazing past her vapid expression to the clock on the wall. It took her 25 minutes to notice me.

“How long have you been there?”

“Only three hours.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny Bishop.” She smirked. “Or should I call you Bitchop?”

“You’re sharp.”

“Don’t fucking mock me.” And back I was, under her finger, my cheek smushed against the cool desk surface and her giant appendage. “I thought you would have learned your lesson yesterday, you were all tuckered out at the end.”

“Where’s Eileen?” I rasped and the pressure on my head eased.

“What was that?”

“This is Eileen’s office.”

“And what’s it to you?”

“It’s not yours. What’re you doing here?”

“Wow, talk about obsessed. Why are you so into Eileen anyway. She’s a fucking cow.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Greta scoffed, she pulled herself closer to the desk and suddenly her boobs were right above, admittedly much smaller than Eileen’s but still eye catching. She stuck her tongue out and pinched the gum between her fingers. “Give me a compliment.”

“Sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m a terrible liar.”

I flinched as she stuck the pale pink gum on my head, the weighty mass pulled on my hair and I fell over. The entire right side of my head was buried in the mush.

“Ha! Is my gum a little heavy?” Greta pouted.

I’m not sure if you’ve ever had gum stuck in your hair, but just know that it’s fucking terrible. And I had a gigantic lump bigger than my head pulling on what felt like my entire scalp.

“Fucking cunt!” Half my thin brunette hair turned to a goopy pink wig, it got all over my hands as I tried to pry it off.

“Rubbish mouth on you.”

“I’m fucking serious. Help me.”

“Why do I need to help you?”

“Get fucked!”

“I’ll help you if you compliment me.”

“Go to fucking hell!”

“Okay chill out. Jesus.” Greta pushed away from the desk and rummaged around in a bunch of drawers until she found a pair of scissors.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“What? How else am I gonna get it out?”

“Christ sake.”

She just laughed. Her soft fingers enwrapped my body and she held me horizontal, slowly lifting me so my hair became taut with the gum. A searing burn across my scalp.

“Ow! Stop!”

“Settle down. I just gotta…” Two huge metal blades appeared only inches from my face, my terrified expression mirrored back to me. Greta leaned closer in as she positioned the scissors, her fingers tightened with her focus.

Snip!

I screamed.

Greta held me up for inspection, beaming a wonky smile. “See? All better.” Not exactly reassuring. “I used to do that to my old barbies when their hair got all manky and shit.”

The side of my head felt short and buzzed. I must’ve looked ridiculous. “You goddamn owe me for this.”

“C’mon I helped you.”

“I look like fucking Skrillex.”

“Yeah… You kinda do. Sorry. How about we kiss and makeup?”

“Not happening. How about fifty thousand dollars?”

She burst into laughter then pulled me close so I was right beneath her gaze. “What are you?”

“I’m desperate is what I am.”

“Maybe we can strike some kind of deal.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ll give you one kay to go in my shoe for the rest of the day.”

“Done.”

“Pleasure doing business,” she grinned and set me on the desk.

One after the other, two enormous dark grey treads slammed down in front of me, they were scuffed and had some rocks lodged between the rubber. A mustard yellow rope landed by my feet as she undid the laces of her shoe. They were a lowcut pair of Doc Martens, clearly worn by the creased leather. She yanked it off with a little effort and flexed her yellow socked foot in the air. Thankfully it was only the beginning of the day and they didn’t reek to high heavens.

“Here you go,” she faced the mouth of her shoe toward me and tapped inside.

“Aren’t these against the dress code.”

“Guess so. Get in.”

I approached the footwear, crouching to fit in the dank cavern. Her long footprint disappeared into the dark toe end of the shoe. “You’re really gonna pay me?”

“If you get in there, hell yeah.”

“Just don’t squash me.” I slipped my shoes off and threw them outside.

“You’ll be fine, I’m light footed.” Then she snatched her shoe up and I tumbled inside, my face fell into the deep impression left by her heel. The whole thing tilted and I rolled and slid downwards until my head bumped into leather, my feet only reached halfway down the sole. I defied gravity briefly as the enormous shoe lowered to the ground.

Five furry yellow boulders blocked the only source of light and began cramming themselves into the tight space. Completely encompassing any available space as they scrunched their way forward. My feet disappeared beneath the woolly mass and before long my head was jammed between two pudgy beanbags, the ease at which they contorted and clenched at my body made my heart race. It was exhilarating.

Then I was weightless. It was an odd sensation, to be completely locked in place against an enormous fuzzy monster as it rose far into the air. My stomach dropped as I plummeted down and a head splitting thud ripped through me. As she took another step, the ball of her foot ground me flat and my hips flexed along with her sole as I rose again.

A hot humid atmosphere gradually overtook the inside of her shoe, the cold leather sole now in tandem with the heavy living beast atop me, moisture seeped off the leathery material into my hair. My clothes felt glued to my body and I could only huff air through the thick woollen fabric between her big toes. Each breath was laboured, and with ever step, my stomach took the brunt of her monumental weight. It was like I was trapped in cement, any movement I made, no matter what herculean effort I put in, was met with an immovable mass. Her toes clenched down and rubbed my head between them, forcing the taste of lint down my throat.

It was taking all my energy not to pass out, the oxygen was slowly turning into a noxious vinegar scented smog. The only saving grace was to buck my hips and grind into her sole, it put me in a dizzied trance as her foot funk infused itself with the inside of my nostrils. I must have swallowed a litre of her sweat at this point.

After however long, the overwhelming up and down ceased. The darkness and claustrophobic environment finally got to me and I began to writhe and protest with everything I had. I screamed between her toes and bucked my head into the little gap between them and her meaty ball. Greta trapped me there with her big toe, the smell between her toes was ungodly and she rolled my face deep in there. She pressed down on the hardwood floor and quelled my protest.

I was powerless. My body was brimming with energy and I wanted so badly to disperse it, yet every movement was nullified. I couldn’t even lift a finger beneath her giant fucking foot. To make it worse, I was being actively compacted. She steadily increased the pressure, tighter and tighter, until I became one with her foot. The pressure held itself there briefly, forcing any last bits of oxygen out and fogging it with Greta’s scent. Like there was sweat on the inside of my lungs. And then I had a thought.

This might really kill me.

A cool sensation encompassed my back and I shivered. I laid on a huge mustard pillow sopping wet, my hair was stringy and my hairclip had fallen out.

“She lives,” Greta boomed.

We were in one of the office bathroom stalls, the overhead lights were blinding and turned some of Greta’s red hair gold. With a quart of effort I unstuck myself from her damp woollen sock. My hands sunk slightly into her soft sole and I got lost in the lattice work of her socks threads, slick oily sweat seeped between my sticky fingers. Her enormous toes wiggled under the thick fabric, like they were playfully trying to trap my hands.

Greta had her foot upturned on her knee, she flipped me over with her thumb and pinned me down. Not so aggressively this time, she used a gentle touch as she pulled me to the middle of her sole and stroked my stomach. “So I’ve got some good news and I’ve got some bad news. Which one you want first?”

“Water.” I wheezed past the nails in my throat. I was so thirsty.

“In a minute. Which one?”

It’s never when I’m ready. “Good news,” I said.

“Well, you’re alive.”

“Fuckin’ A.”

“Most people like to hear the bad news first.”

“Just tell me.”

“It’s only half past one, you didn’t last the whole day in my shoe. Valiant effort though.”

“So you’re not gonna pay me?”

“Seems the most fair to me.”

She was so damn smug all the time, I couldn’t stand it.

“That’s a load of horse shit.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it?”

“I can do it, put me back in.”

Greta put some thought into it. “Really? You didn’t seem too eager a minute ago.”

Then a booming knock rattled the stall door and Greta snapped to attention, horrified of who it might be.

“Greta?” It was Dana. “Greta is that you?”

“Hey shh. Yes, it’s me. What do you want, I’m on the shitter.”

“Do you have the um, new recruit with you?”

The redhead smirked down at me as if to say, get a load of this.

“And what if I did?”

“I only want to look.”

Greta leaned forward to flip the lock open. The doorway was filled with Dana’s enormous form, her hips almost the width of it. I thought Greta was huge but this lady was almost 10 feet taller.

“Is she alright?”

“Never better.” I gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

“It always makes me feel weird when they talk. Don’t you think?” Dana totally ignored me.

Greta devilishly smirked. “They’re still people. It makes it better when you play with them. When they’re yap, yap, yapping away.” She ground my stomach into her foot until I squeaked in protest. “Sure you only want a look?”

Dana stammered on her words. “I-I don’t know.”

“I have been with her all day. Why don’t you take her for the rest of the afternoon?”

“Are you sure?”

“Why not, I’m feeling generous and I can tell you want to.”

“Sh!” Dana shoved her finger over Greta’s mouth and got close to her ear, her huge tits swung above me, wobbling to a stop. She almost gave Eileen a run for her money. “Okay. If you’re offering.” Fingers that were longer than I was tall wrapped me up and I was held before the mighty hills on Dana’s chest. She loosened two taut buttons across her bosom, her boring beige bra peeked out, the creamy flesh was swelling out the cups slightly. “Remember what you and Aubrey were trying to get me to do yesterday.”

“Oh, you’re so bad.” Greta giggled.

Dana peeled her bra cup away and tossed me inside like she’d been dealing with a filthy bug. My face audibly smacked against her fat tit and I tumbled down a sloping curve. The fleshy boulder rounded over me and half my body disappeared in her mass. Dana’s bottle cap nipple stopped right in front of me, I smacked right into it as she let her bra snap shut.

Whatever, I didn’t need water anyway.