Carly leaned forward intently, eyes wide and glowing with glee, lips spread into an unstoppable smile, as she observed the events unfolding across the television screen.  Slowly, she plucked another popcorn cluster from the small, damp bag she had in her lap and pushed the moist yellow puff against her lips, sliding her fingers slightly into her mouth where she suckled the greasy butter off the tips before slipping them back out again, leaving the popcorn atop her moist tongue.

                The riveting action on the meager TV Carly’s parents allowed her to keep in her bedroom continued explosively.  A small building came crashing down.  Cars, honking their horns madly, were smashed into the dust and fire unfurling ruthlessly.  Screaming people were swallowed up by the onslaught, and those who remained were forced to stare up into the darkness of the night as a figure emerged through the thick smoke.

                A smooth, shapely leg with the thickness of a school bus burst through the cloud of destruction, followed by a bare foot larger than a car smashing with incredible impact into the street, instantly crunching a BMW beneath the massive, meaty sole like a soda can.

                “WHERE is my husband?” a terrifying feminine voice from far above roared as the face began to appear, the brunette hair, gorgeous and horrifying as it billowed in incredible tangles against the broad shoulders, bouncing and catching pieces of ash.  A hand extended from the dark dust, and then an arm, slender fingers outstretched just as a news helicopter swooped into view, far too close to the event.

                Instantly the smooth fingers were wrapped possessively around the unprepared helicopter, which was dwarfed by the palm of the giant woman’s hand like a plastic toy, its blades immediately brought to a screeching halt, bent entirely out of shape and leaving no visible mark on the seemingly tender skin.

                “I said…” boomed the woman’s voice as the character finally came fully into view, for a moment ignoring the billowing smoke and the horrified screams of the ant-like people scurrying away between her ankles.  “Where is my HUSBAND?”  Slowly, she drew the remains of the helicopter in closer to her face, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed, lips pursed, her flushed skin practically quivering with rage.

                “Hey, little bro, don’t miss this, it’s like the best part,” Carly giggled excitedly, tossing another popcorn kernel casually into her mouth.  “Can you believe Olivia Wilde didn’t get an Oscar for this part?  Not even a Teen Choice or something?  It’s crazy.”

                “We don’t KNOW, Nancy… I… I mean, Mrs. Archer, honest!” cried the terrified news reporter onscreen from the helicopter as he watched the front window of the chopper straining against the immense strength of the 50-foot-woman’s thumb.  For an instant, he stared, gape-jawed, at the awesome size of the thumb, pressed powerfully against the glass and leaving an impossibly large print.

                “Then you’re just as useless as the rest of them,” the spurned giant woman sneered.  With almost surgical precision she crunched her fingers hard into the cavities of the helicopter, watching with disinterest as the metal was rolled like a tin can into her massive fist.  Finally satisfied, she threw the balled up vehicle down towards the ground, allowing it to roll with a few painful screeches down the road, where it bowled to the sidewalks a few cars that were still desperately trying to drive away.

                The woman smiled, nodding to herself.  “A perfect strike.  And don’t you worry, Harry, no matter where you try to hide, I will find you!” she bellowed with so much rage and meaning that as Carly watched, for an instant, she was able to believe that Olivia Wilde was several stories tall and rampaging across the downtown area.

                “Hey… what gives?” Carly whispered in annoyance, clicking the pause button on the video player and sliding her hand under the sheets of her bed in search.  “You’re missing awesome stuff, little bro.  It almost looks real.”

                There was no response.

                “Come on, Jackie-poo, back when you were the wrong size I thought you loved all the geeky tech stuff like that, I thought you’d like this.  I mean, if you don’t wanna have a little fun with your big lovey sissy, then I’m sure there are plenty of other things we can do.”

                Finally, feeling her fingers brush against the tiny leg of her shrunken sibling, Carly grinned and slid her digits around his ankle, dragging him roughly along the length of the bed and up from under the covers.

                Holding Jack by one leg, dangled, Carly raised an eyebrow, chuckling and letting a pitifully amused smile show.

                “What’s the deal, bro?  Why are you ignoring your favorite big sister?”

                “I… I wasn’t, Carly, I swear,” Jack huffed frantically.

                “What were you doing under there, anyway?  It’s freaking summertime, it’s hot under there.”

                “You… you… y-y-you told me t-to, Carly, you… told me I should go…”

                “I told you to ignore me and go on a random little jog where I can’t see you?  You know I don’t like it when I don’t know right where you are, little bro.  Do I have to remind you about that?”

                “NO!” Jack squeaked with terror, warranting another adoring giggle from Carly.  Personally, she found it to be the cutest thing in the world when her tiny brother was scared beyond his wits just because she had uttered a few sentences to him.  “I… I mean, n-n-no, p-please, Carly, I was under there because you told me y-your right heel itched, so I was…”

                “Oh, yeah, I remember,” Carly frowned, glancing at the digital clock next to her bed.  “That was like ten minutes ago, what are you doing still under there?”

                “I… sorta got lost, I mean… I d-didn’t wanna fall off the edge,” Jack peeped fearfully, his body appearing to get sore from being hung upside down for this length of time.

                “It’s not hard, little bro, you just follow my legs back to the promised land.  How’d you end up in the corner down there?”

                “I d-don’t know…”

                “You sure you weren’t trying to take a little vacation on your own?  Without telling big sissy first?”

                “No!”

                Carly smirked again, shaking her head in feigned disbelief and finally unpinching her fingers from around her brother’s leg, allowing his tiny naked form to plop into her waiting palm.  Righting himself, Jack crawled onto his knees, looking up at his sister’s face.

                “Because… you must know…” Carly began dramatically, winking playfully at her brother.  “… Harry…”

                “Huh?”

                “Don’t you worry.  No matter where you try to hide, I will find you.”

                “Carly, p-please understand, I wasn’t…”

                “Shush.  Maybe if you’d paid attention to the movie you’d know what you’re supposed to do now.”

                “What?”

                Carly rolled her eyes with irritation at Jack’s inability to engage in the game.

                “You’re no fun when you’re like this, you, little bro?  You used to be so smart.  I remember because Mom would always give me crap when you came home with straight A’s every semester and I’d have, like, two C’s at most.  I mean, c’mon, you know why that was?”

                “Why?”

                “Because you never did anything besides school.  You had a couple of your weird nerd friends, but I was out there doing things.  You know, having fun.  Didn’t you ever have fun, Jackie-poo?”

                “Y-Y…”

                “Don’t be scared of me, I’m not interrogating you,” Carly seemed to snap as she observed the little figure on his knees in her warm palm.  “Seriously.”

                “Y-Yeah.”

                “Don’t be stupid, of course you didn’t.  I saw you.  You went out like maybe once a week, and the rest of the time you were just in front of your stupid computer writing your whatever-programs.  How the heck is that supposed to be fun?”

                “Carly, I…”

                “But now you’re just a little moron,” Carly frowned, causing Jack to quake again.  She beamed.  “You’re my little moron, though, so it’s totally cool and stuff.  And besides, with that hungry little dick of yours, it’s no wonder you can’t think anymore.  All the blood you had in that smart little head of yours is in your… other head now.”

                “Please, Carly, I’m sorry, just…”

                “Stop trying to change the subject when I’m talking to you, little bro.”

                “Sorry.”

                “That’s better.  Now.  Let’s have some real fun, huh?  How about a ride with your sports car?”

                Carly could see the dread forming in Jack’s eyes and it filled her with undeniable pleasure.  She could feel his little knees trembling against the soft skin of her hand, which she could feel slowly beginning to perspire with her own steadily rising adrenaline.  That euphoric rush she got every time she held her pet in her hands and was able to bask in unquestionable power without a single thought of the outside world invading her mind.  It was returning as it always did.

                “Well, how about it, Jackie-poo?  Can you answer me?  Can your brain work?”

                There was no response as Jack’s jaw quivered.

                “Because, you know, if your brain isn’t working, then obviously something else is right now…” Carly threatened with all the sweetness in the world, slowly bringing her other hand up to Jack’s still-kneeling body, his junk on full display.  His pathetic attempts at modesty in the presence of his goddess had faded long ago.

                She saw him blush and lean down a little in a last-ditch effort to shield himself a little and perhaps deflect his sister’s suggestion.

                As if.

                “Don’t be such a little wussy.  If you don’t wanna drive your car, I’m game for whatever else you think we could do.  I’ve got some ideas, but I don’t think you’d like them very much, or…” Carly sighed sultrily, gingerly prodding her pointer finger between Jack’s tiny legs.  “…maybe you would.”

                The shrunken brother trembled, both out of disgust and fear that with much more encouragement his owner was going to get the exact reaction of him that she wanted, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

                Carly knew how to will a hard-on out of his puny member with just a few choice strokes and caresses.  Jack could delay the inevitable by concentrating on terrible images in his mind, but with all the pain his life usually entailed, the occasional break from it with those massive, soft fingers gliding over his body to comfort him made it impossible to resist.

                “Looks like somebody’s being a cute little prude today,” Carly giggled, tickling her shrunken pet’s genitals with the tip of her gentle finger as he continued leaning forward to no avail as his sister’s gargantuan finger kept him propped up enough in the wide expanse of her palm to ensure his forced compliance with her game.  “Can we get that little baby penis to wake up?  Or should we play something else?”

                “Something… else… please…” Jack groaned with exasperation, already beginning to lose his grip on what was right as the giant firm finger slid back and forth between his thighs, coaxing him so easily, his mind strained at one of a million reminders that his titanic little sister could play him like a harp from any angle no matter the circumstances.

                “Fine,” Carly shrugged, sounding a little disappointed, knowing all along this was the end goal.  “Your call, little bro.  We’ll play cars instead, like you seem to want.  Besides, I’ve got a fun surprise for you.”

                “W-What does that mean?” Jack dared to squeak as his tall sibling slid her shapely legs off the bed and planted her smooth bare feet with a soft thud on the carpet.

                “Jackie-poo, what have I always said about surprises?”

                “I d-don’t know if you’ve ever said any-”

                “I always say,” Carly interrupted, knowing Jack had called her playful bluff.  “That it’s not a surprise if you know what’s coming.”

                “Right.  How dumb of me,” Jack mumbled under his breath as his sister’s fingers clasped around his body, her thumb as usual slipping between his legs and allowing his crotch to rest precariously on top of it, just to remind him of his place.  This moment in particular was made all the worse, though, as Carly’s thumb was still a little damp and greasy with leftover popcorn butter and salt.  The scent was intoxicating and created an incessant itch on Jack’s stones, but he dared not scratch the itch for fear of Carly turning any motion at all into a suggestion on his part that they return to the previous game.

                “Aaaand here we go, my little racecar driver,” Carly announced proudly, opening her closet door and carefully reaching onto a shelf behind rows and rows of stylish clothing.  Slowly, her hand returned, gripping a bright green toy car about five inches in length with tiny plastic opening doors.

                “Oh, shit…” Jack grumbled to himself.

                “What was that?” Carly snapped.

                “Nothing.  Just… excited.”

                “Of course you are, Mr. Daytona 5 and a half,” Carly snickered, her sugary smile returning as she tossed her ponytail-bound hair over her shoulder.  “Now, in you go!”

                “Carly, couldn’t we talk about this, I… oomf!” Jack grunted as his sister wadded him roughly into the driver’s seat of the toy car, her fingers poking and prodding rudely at him to get him securely into the seat.  Despite his miniscule size, Jack was actually a tad oversized for the car, and found himself having to duck his head a little to stay still.

                “Are you in okay, little bro?” Carly asked politely as her fingers continued kneading at her brother’s already struggling body, her hand clasped against the void windows of the car.  “Safety first, you know.”

                “Oh, absolutely,” Jack answered with defeat as Carly, at last satisfied, gently lowered the car toward the ground and set it down on the carpet.

                “Well, get going!  You don’t have much time!” the towering seventeen-year-old girl warned with sudden imperiousness.

                “Time for what?” Jack asked slowly, not wanting to know the answer, as he slid his feet through the hollowed out bottom of the car, allowing his feet to touch the carpet just beneath.  He craned his neck out the window, the familiar feeling of his stomach flipping over inside him taking place as always as his gaze wound up the awe-inspiring sight of his Amazonian little sister standing above him

                “Because…” Carly announced, her voice in a low, dangerous rumble as she placed her hands on her firm hips as a show of power far above.  “…I need to know where my HUSBAND IS.” 

                “Goddamn it, no,” Jack groaned, rolling his eyes, knowing precisely what was coming next.

                “Where is he, little man?” Carly bellowed, mimicking the sound of Olivia Wilde’s voice from the movie as closely as she could.  “He’s going to pay for cheating on me, his beautiful wife!”  Casually, Carly raised her right foot from the carpet and splayed her toes down against it, arching her smooth, wrinkled sole just out of sight.  “And besides, that itch is still there…”

                Jack wasted no time in kicking his legs against the carpet as quickly as possible, getting the little plastic car up to a stuttered start.

                He made it nearly six inches across the carpet before the shadow of his sister’s youthful foot came rapidly into view.

                Dexterous toes scrunching against the thin translucent plastic front window, heel hanging easily off the back of the car, Carly’s naked foot steadily began applying pressure.  Immediately, Jack pushed at the door, but realized the little safety lock that allowed it to stay closed most of the time was being restrained as the roof of the car began descending slightly with a creak from the plastic, the weight of his giant sister’s body caving in his hiding place.

                Having taken thorough control of the car’s movements away from her brother, who only temporarily had any, Carly flicked at the car with her toes, giving it an extra burst of speed by flipping the back down against the carpet for an instant with her heavy heel.

                The tiny vehicle was spent racing across the carpet, the wheels barely able to keep up.  Jack, in a moment of panic, picked his legs out of the hole in the bottom to avoid having them flayed off by the severe carpet burns he would’ve received if he touched the ground during this ride.

                With a tiny crash, the car stopped at the far wall of Carly’s bedroom.  Jack was slammed against the front of the vaguely detailed plastic dashboard, his neck feeling a little sore, as he turned around and peered at the back window, although he wished he hadn’t, as he saw the imposing sight of a pair of monstrous bare feet steadily treading across the carpet, slamming down a little harder than was necessary with each step, so that he’d feel the impact through the vibrations of the car.

                Frantically, Jack began wrestling with the door of the car again.  It was stuck, and despite the fact that the weight of Carly’s foot was no longer crushing the vehicle underneath, it had been sufficiently damaged to make opening the door difficult.  Grunting with effort, Jack managed to force one corner of it open.  Then, digging with his fingers, Jack managed to slide his hand into the opening and began to pry.  With a small squeak, the door slid open.

                Jack pulled back just in time, though, as Carly’s left foot came smashing down onto the carpet about a centimeter away from his face, snapping the door right off its little plastic hinges.  Her toes gripped it in the soft crevices, juggling it a little between them in full sight of Jack, who felt sick to see it. 

                What if he had tried to get out?

                “You better answer me, midget-man,” Carly cried with a little roar from far above as she contentedly set her right foot back on top of the car, recommencing the applying of pressure and weight.  Once again, Jack could see the ceiling beginning to give way, the all-encompassing tanned flesh pressed against the windows in front and back as Carly’s lower appendage hung lazily over the helpless car.  “And you better do it fast, because your insurance probably doesn’t cover damage done to your car by a thirty-year-old’s foot.”

                Jack struggled to push the car away, knowing full-well it was useless.  It refused to budge an inch.

                “That’s an actual line from the movie, little bro.  Can you believe they let that in?  It’s so… stupid sounding!” Carly burst out, laughing for a moment, still keeping full weight on the car. 

                “Y-Y-Yeah… it really is…”

                “Although I guess it’s a good concern to have,” Carly shrugged, placing her hands back on her hips and smirking down at the pathetically unmoving vehicle trapped under her weight, feeling the thin plastic slowly fusing together and crushing.  “And if they don’t cover a thirty-year-old’s foot, then there’s no way they’d cover a seventeen-year-old’s…”

                “I don’t know where your husband is!” Jack shrieked more excitedly than he’d intended to, just hoping for the onslaught to end.

                “Lies,” Carly hissed, once again in the voice of the actress.  “Although I guess the insurance people would have to make some kind of exception, since you’re like the size of my finger.  I mean, face it, Jackie-poo, I’m no ordinary seventeen-year-old.”

                “No, you are not,” Jack whispered bitterly to himself as the car continued crunching under the mammoth weight of his athletic sister’s godlike foot.