An icy cold sensation of shock shot through Paul's body as a chorus of surprised and intregued “Oooooh”s came from all around him. Nobody in a thousand years thought that Brie would pick her own brother to be her plaything for the night—being one body in a “team-building” orgy to humiliate him was one thing, but to take him one on one was completely unexpected. So much so that the athletes temporarily forgot that their whole team was set to be upended.

  Paul's face shot up to Brie's with shock and horror written all over his face, but Brie just returned his expression with a supremely smug smile. Athletes moved aside as Brie's hand came forward to grasp Paul, the usual contradictory abuse being hurled his way as he was lifted: “look how much this sicko wants to please his sister” and “I bet the faggot won't even get hard!”

  Brie stood up to her full height with Paul in hand. Looking down at the team she hailed them one last time: “Now rest up my lovely athletes for tomorrow we're about to kick our practice into high gear!”

  Indecipherable noises from the men far below faded as Brie walked out of the room and toward the stairs. Each step up the staircase felt like a new weight being shoved down Paul's throat. There was nothing he could do about it; he was at Brie's complete mercy and none would witness what was about to happen.

  The hallway was dark so Paul couldn't make out where they were going until Brie flicked on a light to reveal they had entered her bedroom. The light was warm and disturbingly intimate—details like that had eluded Paul before on previous visits but it seemed that panic had heightened his powers of observation.

  Brie sat down on the edge of her bed and lifted Paul between two fingers as if holding him with chopsticks. Paul clutched Brie's finger for support as his legs dangled over the void below, cock semi-erect over fear in full view.

  And there was Brie in front of him. With his fear-heightened perception he took her in; starting at the bottom with her brightly-colored tall socks that came up several inches above her ankles. Smooth white legs curved around knees to shapely, athletic thighs, pressed together in excitement. Then there were her tiny lime green shorts, not an inch longer than they had to be and not doing much to hide her camel-toe.

  Above that was a couple inches of exposed midriff where Brie's belly-button was exposed—the place where she had once been attached to the same womb that would go on to birth Paul himself a couple years later. Above that was a white-knitted shirt that hugged Brie's body, advertising the two soft hills rising out from her chest as what might have once been called sweater puppies.

  And above that was the face of his sister, looking the same as it had always looked with her excitable, extroverted features. Bold pink lipstick sat upon rich full lips, blue eyes curtained by lashes that had been carefully brushed; rosy warm cheeks. And on top of it was Brie's dirty blonde hair still pulled back in the ponytail she almost always kept when leaving the house.

  Yes, it was Brie, the same sister he had known his entire life, now nineteen and on her own. Still the excitable girl, but now the colossal figure sat before him. His former bickering partner and childhood rival; whereas they had once traded victories back and forth with Brie only slightly taking the lead, he had now been reduced to a statistical nothing next to her and she could run up the score indefinitely without any effort or consequence.

  “Oh Paul,” She said, looking at him. “You're so silly.” She was obviously getting great pleasure from just gazing at his helpless naked body dangling from her fingers. Paul wished he could do something, anything to put up a token resistance. But there was nothing. He was exposed and helpless and very, very small.

  “Brie...” Paul eked out, almost unable to speak. “Brie...I...”

  “What's that?” Brie asked with mock concern. “You have something to say to me, little Paul?”

  “Brie...” Paul wanted to make some kind of retort, some kind of verbal jab that would make even the tiniest dent in the giantess's impenetrable armor. But cowed by her sheer size and the intensity in her face, he could only squeak out a pathetic question: “What are you going to do with me?”

  Brie giggled, massive thighs shifting sensually like ocean waves below him. “What am I going to do with you?” Brie repeated. “I'm going to have my fun with you. I'm going to put you through every little game I can think of. I'm going to make sure that this is a night that you're never going to forget.”

  Filled with dread, Paul hung stiffly in Brie's hand as her other hand came up to touch him, her index finger fondling his balls tenderly. Brie giggled again. “This is so good.” Brie said. “You know, I really think this is the size you were meant to be. Being a Tiny really suits you. You never really were all that good as a Big. But as a Small you can at least be useful for my amusement.”

  Paul had never felt so low in his life and the evening was only beginning. The fondling continued for a few more seconds before Brie pulled her finger away and wrapped her hand around Paul. She swung her legs around the bed and reclined back, holding Paul not far away from her boobs and looking at him, possibly running through all the possibilities in her mind in an attempt to decide what to do first.

  The anticipation of whatever act Brie was thinking about was almost worse than the act itself—Brie was still giggling, clearly getting off on Paul's look of fear. “Why are you so scared?” Brie asked in that falsely sweet voice. “I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to play with you.”

  Paul said nothing while Brie continued to giggle. “Actually,” Brie said. “I think I'm going to eat you.”

  And without giving Paul a chance to react Brie opened her mouth and popped him in like a candy. Paul let out a yelp of fear as he was launched against Brie's tongue, his feet sticking out between her lips as his head hurled towards her throat, her wet uvula bumping against his head.

  For a second Paul thought Brie was actually going to do it and he started thrashing around in a blind panic. Brie's lips closed plunging him into darkness and his thrashing was thwarted by her tongue simply holding him in place.

  “Mmmm,” Brie moaned, the sound gigantic all around Paul. Brie started sucking on Paul lightly, Paul forcing himself to relax, though it was hard with his entire world in motion. Brie's lips panted as she let out brief sharp breaths of arousal. Paul looked back between Brie's lips to see her playing with herself above her shorts seemingly miles away.

  Several minutes of sucking later Brie finally released her brother. Coated in her saliva Paul flopped out of Brie's lips into her hand. “Fuck, that was fun.” Brie said, looking down at her soaking brother. “What's the matter, sad I didn't eat you?” Brie teased. “You want to be a snack for your sister?”

  “N-no,” Paul timidly. Brie laughed. For a moment he thought she was going to put him in her mouth again. But instead Brie placed him on the bed and pulled herself up into a sitting position. Like before Paul found himself face to face with Brie's sock-covered toes. They sat across from each other like this, gigantic sister and tiny brother.

  “You're just a little bug,” Brie teased. “Such a little worm. You'll do anything I make you do because you have no choice.”

  Slowly, Brie reached down and pulled off the sock of her left foot. She flexed her toes in the open air, a stale foot smell pervading. Paul could see the light pink paint on her toenails and could tell it had been a little while since she had done them; unsurprising as she almost always wore her characteristic socks.

  “Such a little bug,” Brie repeated, shifting on the bed. Her movement jostled Paul, and he didn't realize until too late that Brie was shifting positions so she could put her foot directly on top of him. Paul was pushed down into the soft bed by the immense weight of Brie's foot.

  “Squish!” Brie laughed, delighted. Paul lay there pinned, unable to move. “Just a silly bug under my toes.” Brie said. “You couldn't get out if you tried. Here, struggle for me.”

  Paul didn't move. Brie applied more pressure forcing all the air from Paul's lungs. Half out of instinct and half out of desperation to obey Paul started struggling, uselessly wiggling under Brie's foot in a vain attempt to get away. Brie laughed, releasing just enough pressure that Paul could breathe again.

  “Now I want you to lick my toes.” Brie ordered. “Come on, let me feel that tiny tongue of yours.” Paul had no choice, he had to obey. He licked the thick skin of Brie's toes and could feel them wiggle in response. “Ooh, I feel it!” Brie said. “Keep going!”

  The licking session dragged on and on; Brie kept shifting her foot so he could hit different areas. He felt his tongue start to get numb from all the effort, and he thought the smell of her feet was filling his very lungs. “Make sure you get between my toes,” Brie said. “Ooh, yeah, right there! That feels great!”

  At long last Brie removed her foot leaving Paul to stay there, exhausted, and staring up at the ceiling. Brie's giant face soon invaded this view as she looked down on him. She held her used sock over him and began to sway it back and forth like a pendulum. Finally, she dropped the sock on top of him, the soft but heavy fabric covering him.

  “No hiding! Come on out!” Brie said. With effort, Paul pulled himself out of the spot where Brie had pressed him into the mattress and emerged from below the sock. Brie's eyes moved from him back to the sock. “Now I want you to climb inside.”

  There was little Paul could think of that he wanted to do less than climb into Brie's sweaty, musky sock. She noticed his hesitation and cocked her head, looking down at him quizzically.

  “Don't want to get in my sock?” Brie asked. “Well, maybe we can see how long you treat water in the toilet!”

  Paul had no doubt Brie would follow through on that threat so he quickly scrambled for the entrance to the sock. The fabric was soft and in a different context this might be a decent place to take a nap. But as it was, he had to force himself further and further into the sweaty interior.

  “That's right, all the way to the toe.” Brie said. The lower part of her sock was the smelliest part and it was a little moist from her sweat. When Paul was almost there he felt the world move around him as Brie picked up the sock causing Paul to tumble into the toe.

  “I can barely feel that you're in there!” Brie said, standing up and walking around her room. She started to swing the sock back and forth causing a stomach-churning sensation as Paul was pressed into the fabric. Then, suddenly, Brie started swinging the sock round and round.

  “Wheee!” Said Brie as the sock and Paul spun in a circle faster and faster. Paul was on the verge of blacking out, the g-force was immense, he was being jammed into the fabric. This was going to be it, he thought, Brie's careless was going to kill him. He was going to rip through the fabric of her toe and slam into the wall.

  But even at high speeds Paul's minute weight didn't damage the fabric in the slightest and Brie stopped the spinning, Paul just laying there trying to regain his breath.

  “Having fun in there?” Brie asked. “Maybe I should just leave you in there for a while. Yes, I'll do that. I have to get prepared for bed anyway.”

  The sock swayed back and forth as Brie walked towards the bathroom. Paul realized that he could see through the fabric as if looking through a thick screen—the unmistakable blur of motion from Brie's white legs passed under him.

  Once inside the bathroom Brie headed for the sink. Paul watched as she opened the door to the medicine cabinet. He felt the sock shift as she put the top inside the bottom shelf and then closed the door—the sock was now jammed there and he was trapped inside. There was no hope of dislodging it or climbing out, and even if he could he was high up in the air.

  “Just hang out there for a while.” Brie said, laughing at her pun as she turned away. Facing away from him Brie pulls the tie out of her ponytail letting her hair spill around her shoulder. She then reaches down to begin taking off her shirt, and at that point Paul turns away. In no world would he willingly watch his sister undress. He knew he'd have to face her nude body at some point but he wanted to forestall that moment as long as he could.

  Paul tried to distract himself with thoughts of happier times, but it was impossible. Between the smell, the discomfort, and the sounds of Brie he couldn't escape into his mind. And Brie was in no rush either—Paul heard her wasting time giggling, pacing around doing god knows what, and using the bathroom. He almost just wanted her to get on with it.

  Eventually the world shook with the sounds of the house's plumbing as Brie turned on the shower. Paul tried not to think about the sound the water made as it hit Brie's skin or what she was likely doing in there. Paul just closed his eyes and waited as air around him became more warm and humid from the shower.

  Finally, Brie was done. But she really wasn't done; she still had to towel off and then she made the decision to blow-dry her hair. The sound of the blow-drier was ear-splitting and he expected that at any moment Brie would turn it on his prison and he would begin to cook there in the sock, but apart from some incidental heat there was no interaction with the device.

  It felt like a million years since Paul was locked in the sock, but finally he felt his world shift as Brie took it out from it's position hanging from the cabinet. Again the rocking sensation as Brie walked back to her bedroom until suddenly his world turned upside-down as Brie dumped him back out on the bed.