Brittany smiled as she scrolled through her phone. A picture of Courtney standing with the volunteers for a large group photo popped up on her VYou social media page. Brittany loved how her young protégé stood head and shoulders over everybody else in the photo. Not only was the event good PR for Vilecio as a hold, but it also acted as a sales display of what could be possible either, working for Vilecio or being in the Customer Loyalty Program.
She was enjoying her Sunday in her Garden District home; since expanded to accommodate her large size, it stood a traditional 6 stories high with 3 floors within. Each floor from floor to ceiling was 20ft. The development of her abode did involve her buying and demolishing nearby historical buildings, but a few SMOL favors here and there got the city off her back. The land also accommodated a detached guest house and private gym. The Dunham estate had become quite a famous landmark to locals.
She was currently dripping with sweat as she had just finished nearly two hours of lifting in her gym. She was dressed in a peach sports bra with matching yoga pants, both of which looked painted onto her large body. Beads of sweat ran down her skin, some drops fell from her onto the rubberized floor below. Her hair was put into a ponytail.
Brittany placed her phone into her right pant pocket and raided her arms above her head. She intertwined her fingers and pulled them so that her torso stretched out. She then bent over at the waist and touched the floor. Despite her enormous size, she was still extremely flexible. She flexed her glutes and pulled her upper body back vertical. With a yawn she turned and walked toward one wall of the room; her bare feet leaving sweaty footprints in their wake. Her eyes were set on a small, trembling man. His nude body out in the open, forced to wait for her. She wasn’t worried about him escaping; there were things far more dangerous than her outside the building.
He could only watch as Brittany’s giant body neared. He had once been the head of the digital marketing team, but complaints from his subordinates had seen him slowly reduced over the year. His latest demotion three days earlier saw him enrolled in a Personal-Improvement-Plan personally oversaw by Brittany. She felt it was partly her fault he had done so poorly as she personally chose him for the position a year and a half prior.
“8-inches, Asher. I’m ashamed. You were, what, almost 9feet when I put you in position?” Brittany now stood directly above him, her sweat soaked body changed the nearby atmosphere; he could feel the increased humidity in the air.
“What’d you tell me when I gave you that job?” Brittany asked with her hands on her hips. She looked down to Asher like a disappointed mother.
“That I wouldn’t let you down...” his voice trailed off as he stared at the bare concrete floor not covered by the rubber gym mats.
“And what’d you do?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I let you down.” Asher sounded forlorn.
“You sure did. Here I thought I had a piece in place to lean on. Instead, what I got was just another steppingstone.” Brittany raised her right foot and held it over Asher to emphasize her point.
The thin blond-headed man stared up at his superior’s sole. He was always intimidated by Brittany’s size, but in his current stature, it was like dealing with a being from another plane of existence.
Brittany hovered her foot over Asher so that he was centered under the ball of her sole.
“Is this more suitable for you?” She asked and wiggled her toes.
Brittany’s sole hung mere centimeters above Asher. The sweat, dust, and dirt covered skin cast a large shadow upon him; it was surprisingly dark. It reminded Asher of growing up in Oklahoma and watching as a Tornado front rolled in. The air held the same eeriness. Calm with a sense of danger. He stared up in, both extreme fear and awe.
“I asked you a question.” Brittany spoke again.
Asher couldn’t find his words, though he felt like he could drink the air around him due to its humidness, his lips and throat were dry with fear. He coughed to clear his throat.
“Um. If you desire, Miss Dunham.” He attempted to give the best answer he could.
Brittany rolled her eyes, “Oh wow. The incredible shrinking man squanders yet another opportunity. No wonder Veronica took over your department so easily if this is how you react to a literal life or death situation.” She lowered her foot so that her heel rested on the bare floor while her sole remained over Asher, this forced the miniature man onto his back.
Asher felt his heart rate increase. All 21+ inches of Brittany’s size 42.5 foot rested precariously above him. If she desired, she could easily snuff out his life.
“I mean, you went to Yale for christ's sake. Yet some hick from Lafayette comes and runs circles around you. This really puts me in a difficult spot, y’know? Now I gotta become friendly with her and decide what to do with you. Do you know how hard it is to keep track of all your runts?” Brittany boomed referring to her other tiny slaves, her own Appalachian accent came through.
“Now look what you made me do. Fucking pulled the country out of me.” Brittany did her best to suppress her accent and avoid the past she was ashamed of, but in times of stress such as this, it often pushed itself out. “I’m too tired for this.” Brittany let her foot rest onto the ground.
Asher screamed and held his arms out in some futile manner to stop the massive wall of flesh from flattening him. It was a hopeful, but futile attempt.
Brittany rested her weight carefully. She could feel the man less than 1/3rd the size of her foot entombed by her warm skin. She had naturally low arches and wondered how much air he was getting.
Asher had turned his head to the side just-in-time. Brittany’s sole rushed down and trapped him. His boss’ foot sweat soon covered his body along with the solution of dirt and grime in created. He sucked in sharp gasps of air as Brittany’s weight kept him from fully inhaling. Her vinegary scent coated the air.
Brittany rotated her foot left and right as she felt Asher’s body pressed into her sole. Her nails were natural – Caleb and the others were set to paint them later that day. She enjoyed feeling Asher’s body forced to move with her foot, his body completely at the mercy of her own movements.
Asher moaned and yelled as Brittany’s appendage rotated against him. Her sweat was smeared even more over his body as his tiny dick brushed against the warm flesh. He attempted to inhale, but a mouthful of flesh blocked his airway. He could feel Brittany increase the pressure on him.
Brittany pressed down harder. Her top teeth grabbed her bottom lip and bit down as all her stress and disappointment was channeled into her right foot. The appearance of her accent brought back suppressed memories. She thought back to her life growing up. How her parents constantly berated her for being ‘lazy’ and a ‘disappointment’ for focusing on her schoolwork instead of ‘real’ work. They told her to get a job at the auto-plant when she turned 16, they needed her to work. Brittany refused. To them, she might as well have spat in their faces. Growing up, they made it apparent that work and money were the only things that mattered. It infuriated her that people like Asher couldn’t or wouldn’t think that way – they were disappointments.
Asher felt himself begin to lose consciousness, the already dark world between Brittany’s sole and the floor grew dimmer. Sweat forced its way into his mouth and down his windpipe. It was an odd sensation to have the air crushed out of you while also seemingly drowning. One final muffled scream and he slipped into the darkness.
45 more seconds of grinding and Brittany could no longer feel Asher’s resistance. She rolled her eyes and lifted her gigantic appendage.
In a puddle of her foot sweat, Asher’s limp body lay. His arms and legs askew from Brittany’s movements. Brittany stooped down and watched him for 15 seconds, she could see his tiny chest rising and lowering with his breaths.
“Such a letdown she whispered.” She scooped him up in her left hand and walked barefoot from her gym to her main home. Her footprints stained the pavestones leading into the house. Her soles slapped against the hardwood floors throughout the restored and remodeled Greek-revival manor. She walked into her home office and opened a drawer in her gigantic redwood desk. She pulled out a manilla envelope lined with bubble wrap.
Asher, still unconscious, was unaware of what was occurring as Brittany dropped his limp body into the envelope and gave it a long lick. She hummed to herself as she sealed it and then turned it over. With a pen she grabbed from her desk, she began writing.
TO:
Vilecio Industries
C/O Veronica Gautier
456 Canal Street, New Orleans, LA
FROM:
B.Dunham
Brittany continued humming as she walked from her home out to her mailbox at the edge of her property along the street. A gust of wind blew against her skin, now sticky with dried sweat. She carefully dropped the envelope containing Asher into her mailbox and turned to leave. As she spun around a group of young men, no doubt in town for some fun, drove by with their jaws slack. She heard their car crash into something while she continued walking back up her drive.
She spent the rest of the day sitting in her sunroom reading through her backlog of books. She was currently in the second book of a new series she started reading, “The Valkyries of Mars.” About a planet of warlike men going to war with a planet of peaceful, technologically superior, women. Things were not going well for the men. Her eyes pulled the words from the pages.
“...and at once 1000 ships flew into orbit over the war hungry planet. Their crews eager to punish those below for spilling their sisters’ blood...The captain of the Anath stood in her armor of gleaming blue platinum and silver...”
“Oooh. That sounds pretty.” Brittany commented aloud, “When y’all get done, let’s go with an alternating Cobalt & Silver finish.”
At the end of the lounge chair on which Brittany lied; Caleb, Damien, Hailey, Lauren, Regina, Roger, and Lyle all worked. All hands on desk. At her current size, it practically took all of them to properly tend to a given task.
“Miss. Your tea.” Trevor’s 13inch body struggled with the large, insulated cup between his arms. It took him nearly 25 minutes to get it from the kitchen to where Brittany lay dressed in a black robe; her hair, still moist from her shower, rested heavily on her shoulders. Without looking, Brittany reached down and effortlessly lifted the cup from his miniscule hands. Trevor, still used to his life as a millionaire bachelor athlete, was not used to seeing a woman so carefree around him.
Yes, he’d seen many half-nude or fully nude girls in his day; but the way Brittany behaved so relaxed was different. Coupled with the fact that she had yoked him so easily and he felt his stomach flutter seeing her. His eyes travelled down her relaxed form. Her bare feet rested as she read, her other tiny slaves tended diligently to their care. Trevor’s eyes scanned up past her ankles and her freshly shaven legs; he still struggled to comprehend their size.
His heart picked up steam as his eyes passed Brittany’s knees to the end of the robe. Britanny had left it untied and Trevor could see her toned stomach and sculpted breasts through the folds of the plush garment. He thought back to 2 days prior how Brittany had worn him as a thong so easily and carelessly. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Brittany took a sip from the cup and looked down at Trevor. He was completely hairless. Brittany didn’t allow him to grow any hair due to her propensity to stick him between her cheeks. Luckily, she was able to get Courtney’s team to whip up a pill which encouraged the human body to lose all its hair. She regularly mixed it in with Trevor’s food. His once sculpted body, though still fit, was now leaner compared to his playing days.
Trevor continued to stare at her body, his eyes traveled back down to her feet. 8 out of 10 toes were painted. He thought about how many times he had massaged or worshipped them since he was SMOL’d. Something about it felt right.
“Why are you still here?” Brittany’s voice caught his attention. He quickly turned his head.
Brittany looked down into the green eyes staring back at her.
“If I go and find my shoes aren’t polished, you’re going to be auctioned off for charity at tomorrow’s dinner.” Brittany threatened.
“C-certainly Miss.” Trevor scurried away; the image of Brittany relaxed on the chair burned into his mind.
Trevor stared at the shoe that was larger than he was. One of Brittany’s large black leather pumps stood in front of him. He held a towel-sized rag in his hand as a vat of black polish lay to the side. He carefully worked as he had been trained. He swirled in and smoothed out the layers of polish until a nice reflection of himself was starting to show. This was his 10th shoe in 3 hours, the sun had set, and Brittany had gone out to enjoy her usual Sunday night seafood dinner. Trevor had 8 more shoes to go – Brittany wanted 18 to choose from for the ball. He should have been finished by the time she returned.
2 hours later, Trevor had worked his way to shoe number 15. His body ached as he had to push and rub with all his muscles to work a good shine into the leathers. The fumes of the polish had caused him some slight lightheadedness and slowed him down, but he carried on. He stared into his reflection on the bulbous toe of a black leather combat boot. At a size 42; Trevor was enamored by its size. It was easily taller than he was. He was sure it could hold at least two gallons of water. The thought made him thirsty as his water bowl was empty and he forgot to inform Brittany. He looked up to the top of the shoe and thought.
Minutes later, Trevor climbed up the laces of the boot to its mouth. He peered into the darkness inside. He could smell the well-worn leather and remnants of Brittany’s foot scent. He was sure there was water. He leaned in and fell.
The inside of the boot served to be a reminder of Brittany’s size. Trevor thought if he could reach on his toes, he may be able to pull himself out; alas he was too weak from hunger and thirst. He looked down at the tan leather insole. A solid black ‘42’ stamped into it. He could see the outline of Brittany’s footprint and felt what remained of her sweat in the air. He felt a literal light go off. Trevor got on his hands and knees and placed his tongue to the leather; it was slightly moist. He then began to suck and chew on the material hoping to get some moisture. He sucked aggressively until he passed out.
Brittany walked through the large front door of her mansion. Her stomach was full, and her mind was free. She loved Sunday Night Seafood. Pounds of Crawfish and Shrimp perished to her. It was a way for her to just knock back and relax. Sure, people knew who she was, but nobody expected her to be her, and she tipped well so nobody really cared.
She wore a pair of black flip-flops, running shorts, and a novelty tee “Craw to Momma” it read with an anthropormized female crawfish winking. Her shirt was stained with seasoning and sauces. She kicked her flip flips across the vestibule.
“Trevvy. I’m hoooommmeee.” She yelled as she slammed the door behind her. “My shoes better be sparkling.”
She ascended the stairs slowly. She could see her bedroom light was on, but heard no indication of activity.
“I swear to god...” she began but was greeted with just her combat boots standing alone in the middle of her floor. One was polished, mostly, while the other was untouched. Trevor was nowhere to be found.
Brittany strode to the polished boot and lifted it up; as she did so, she heard something rattle within.
“Don’t tell me this idiot got stuck in my boot.” She thought to herself.
Sure enough, she angled the boot to see Trevor’s passed-out body within. He was in a deep sleep. Brittany thought about turning the boot over but stopped herself. She thought about why she would torture him right now. She was content. Her belly was full and the city’s former most eligible bachelor was sleeping in her boot. She had an entire company practically at her feet.
“I’ll have you eating my toe jam tomorrow in front of your former teammates, little guy. For now, dream whatever freaky dreams you dream.” Brittany placed the boot down and tended to her pre-bedtime routine...