Henry didn’t know what to do. Lily was before him. The ditzy, clueless giant they first met back at home, who ran through the forest and accidentally stepped on him. It all began here. If only Henry and his friends hadn’t tricked her into going along with their plans. Although nothing was Lily’s fault, it wouldn’t have ended up like it did if the massive pair of legs before him hadn’t carried the three into Gintessa.

The sight before him was familiar, yet so different. The last time they met, her pale feet were dirtied and travelworn, twigs and other forest content plastered on her soles. Now they were perfumed, perfectly washed to display her pretty pale hue with a darker texture on the soles. She brandished pretty silver anklets and even a toe ring. Henry observed her sandals, a white complementing her colors with a mixture of creamy yellow. To even have sandals along with her jewelries, that she was here to begin with, it all said plenty of her stature. Who was she?

Henry moved past her sandals. One of her feet was placed over the other, idly twiddling. Henry wanted her attention, but only hers, and had to be careful not to startle her. Henry approached the ten digits, thinking.

He couldn’t account for the sudden lunge forward, her right foot punting him down and resting on top of him. A pleasant scent of strawberries and mint overwhelmed him along the warm flesh. The foot twisted, grinding his naked body under the ball and arch. The action was deliberate, explorative, and soon the foot withdrew for the toes to come and touch him, squeezing, exploring this strange thing. Lily’s face dove under the table, her eyes on him, and she was agape.

“It’s you!”

“Hush!” Henry managed to get a hand out and put an index in front of his mouth. “Quiet.”

She nodded and put her index to her own mouth, mimicking him with a sudden, dutiful seriousness.

“What are you doing here?” Henry said, realizing right after how the question was much better suited for him.

“Mother said we’re going to go to a dinner, and I’ve never liked them, but I have to. They were really mad at me for running away.”

“So you’re among the aristocracy?” Henry chuckled. “Would you know.”

Her foot came off him, pinching his head with the big and second toe and raising him up to his feet.  “Why are you here? And where’s your clothes?”

Henry shook his head. “It’s a long bloody story… but it started with where you left us. Right now—”

“What are you doing?” The voice came from Lily’s side, the panic on her face apparent as she hit her head on the table on the way up. “Who were you talking with?”

“No one, mother.” Lily’s toes grabbed him quickly and dove for the sandals. She put them on, Henry now worn with them. He was under the left foot, and the straps of her sandals were three around the middle portion, giving Henry the freedom to poke his head out between the big and second toe. Though the moment he got out, the big toe rose and sat possessively on his face, trying to hide him. She even applied some force, to push his head into the cushy surface of the sandal.

“Try and maintain some manners, for once in your life.” The voice was her mother’s, far darker and richer than Lily’s, and the picture completed in Henry’s mind. When he and his friends found her running, crying, this was the life she wanted away from. She wanted to get out of here as much as he was.

The pressure on his head relented, the big toe pulling back. It settled beside him. She didn’t duck under the table to speak with him again, understandably so, but she didn’t let him go either. Henry had to think of something. He knew Lily could be influenced, the right words and the right argument could definitely get her on his side. But as he looked about, stuck in Lily’s sandal, he didn’t know what the next move was.

It seemed Lily would make that move for him. Lily excused herself and got up, walking out of there, the glamorous ballroom flashing past Henry from the rollercoaster of her sandal. They exited the room, the hubbub of conversation receding as Lily made it down several hallways. Past a door of curtains, the light was dim and cozy, a little room with a large bed lined with ornate pillows and cushions and covers. The room was one where guests could go in, sit back, and relax, and there Lily sat, taking her sandals off.

Lily sighed. “I don’t like it there.”

Henry crawled out of her sandal. “Lily, listen, I need help. I need to get out of here. You could sneak me out by keeping me in your sandal.”

Lily leaned her cheek in against her shoulder nervously. “Umm, I don’t know. Last time it didn’t go well when I did like you guys wanted.”

“No, Lily, this is different. Just keep me in your sandal throughout the day, and when it’s time to leave, walk out with me in there. No one will notice.”

She crossed her arms, eyes to the side, no signs of agreement.

“It won’t take any effort. Just keep me in your sandal, go about your day as usual, and when you’re outside, toss me to the side. No one will know it was you.”

“Won’t they find you anyway? They have those hounds.”

“I’ll get a good, soapy wash to get my scent off, it might help. But I have to do something. Lily, I need your help.”

Lily groaned, her toes fidgeting. “Uhm, I’m sorry.” Henry approached those digits carefully. He put a hand on her big toe, rubbing it, and it calmed them down.

“Come on, I’m in a bad place right now. My friends are gone. I need help.” Henry gave her big toe a few squeezes. His hand went over to the ring on her second toe, a plain piece of silver.

Lily pouted. “I know you’re trying to worship me just so that I’ll help you.” She said it as if it were an act of great discernment on her part.

Henry got on his knees and rubbed her toes more intimately. “Would you want that?”

Lily crossed her arms and turned her head to the side. “Nope, I won’t do it. I did like you wanted last time and it got us all into trouble.”

“Lily, I see what’s going on. You don’t like this life. You want out of this as much as I do, it could be our escape. Am I wrong? Did you not have fun with us out there?” He kept stroking her toes.

She kept her avoidance, though it became a visible effort to do so. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I tried, but it doesn’t work. I’m not so tiny, and my mother won’t leave me alone. I can’t just go away. It’s not that I don’t want to help you. But I can’t.”

Henry sighed and fell back. Despite how foolish she was, Lily had her limits. She leaned down and stroked her index against his cheek. Henry appreciated the gesture more than he believed he would.

“I have to get back. Are you hungry? I can sneak food under the table.”

“I’d appreciate that, thanks.” And so Henry climbed back in under her right sandal, her pale foot entombing him. With Henry’s last days in mind, Lily’s feet were probably cleaner than his body. However, as her foot flattened him with every step on the way, soft foot flesh grinding his skin, mashing his face to the side, Henry became aware of how casual this domination was. He was getting more and more subservient, accepting treatment like this.

The stamping ended as she sat at her chair, conversation at the dinner table bustling well around him. There was the clatter of silverware. Food had been served. Her foot relented its pressure and rose somewhat, allowing him to crawl his head out between the big and second toe for fresh air.

“What were you doing?” Lily’s mother said, somewhat hushed to keep it between them. “Can you sit nicely in this chair and behave? And smile some, a girl so pretty, and you waste it by opening your mouth instead of letting your beauty speak.”

“What a nasty person,” Henry muttered. He felt bad for Lily. Despite his own predicament, he felt an urge to help her, remorseful that he couldn’t.

Lily’s big toe pressed up against his cheek, and when Henry tried to retreat, her second toe was there to flank him, and the two digits began playing with his head. A trace of sweat made it past her perfumed scents. A peek at her other foot revealed they were equally lively. She was nervous. As her toes grabbed at his head, squeezed his cheeks together, contorted his face, she might have simply forgotten about him and was using this round thing between her toes like a stress reliever. Henry wrestled with them and managed to capture a bit of toe flesh between his teeth. He bit gently. They recoiled, froze, remembering he was there. The toes returned, though without the feisty energy. The big toe rubbed up against him, reminiscent of her index finger, trying to comfort him. It kept those strokes going, up the side of his smooth bald head, tender in its touch, petting him like a dog, and the fact that it came from her goodwill, trying to console him, made it more humiliating in a way. It reminded him of their first encounter when she accidentally stomped him, running off and unaware of how he was stuck to her sole like the sandal she now wore. Lily was dominating him without even trying.

The food she promised came. However, Henry expected to be freed and to eat with his own hands, but the foot remained on him firmly, and the little spoon she ate with deposited a puff of mashed potatoes on the toe gap. Henry wondered what was going on, saw the cloud of creamy yellow on her foot with prickles of green spices, and made a decision. He tilted his head forward and ate what was provided on the foot.

Like before, she didn’t intentionally keep him stuck and force him eat off her. She simply didn’t think very far. Licking and sucking at her toe gap to get every bit of potato mash was unavoidable, and again, she dominated him without trying. The moment he licked up every speck off her soft toe gap, another delivery arrived, and he returned to it. He almost couldn’t tell the difference between the flesh of her toe gap and the puffy potato mash, so velvety and soft was she. Henry thought of this giant above him, how she likely didn’t even view it that way, thinking she was just kindly feeding him, and it made his manhood rise up against her sole. The unintentional domination had a fiercer bite than the intentional. When he finished the potato mash, he kept licking at the toe gap, even going up to the toes. She likely couldn’t tell he was flat-out worshipping her like a slave at this point, and even if she noticed, she’d think he was being nice or playful and tickling her or something, in line with her oblivious attitude.

The spoon returned down with dessert, a raspberry-flavored cream dotted with cake crumbs. Henry had his feast, and the flesh of her toe gap melted in his mouth along the fluffy meals, chewing her with his lips, playing with its gummy texture. Henry lost track of time. Then he realized, with a flush of shame, that the food deliveries had ended a while ago. He had flat-out been worshipping her toes with no excuse in between, and now her toes returned to play with his head. As he thought, she considered his worship an act of play. He even heard her giggle.

“What are you doing?” Lily’s mom peeked underneath. “What is it you obsess over under the table?” Lily’s foot couldn’t hide him in time. “What’s that?” Her eyes drilled into Lily with motherly strictness. “Bring him out. Do it now, young lady, before there’s a scene.” Lily’s foot retreated from the sandal, dragging Henry out alongside. She deposited his naked body on the carpet. Henry tried to produce as much dignity as he could, getting up and bowing to the lady. The wide-eyed mother had passed her pale texture onto Lily well, though she had a sharper, more ladylike look, one which complemented the mental image forming under the table when he'd heard the rich voice. Two braids formed a circlet around her scalp, the long yellow hair falling freely thereafter.

Henry didn’t want to draw attention to himself, not retreating when her foot withdrew from the sandal and went for him. Long and mature toes grabbed his head, unkind force suggesting what was to come, and brought him under her chair. “Seems like the young man needs some discipline.” The big and second toes of her left foot had him suspended by the arms, and the second foot slapped him. The toes, the soft ball, they struck him with a relatively muted spank, the entire ordeal comparable to bringing a child over the lap and smacking their bottom. Henry closed his eyes and endured, swinging about wildly. The sounds of the feast concealed the pummeling underneath.

“Always up with some funny business,” Lily’s mother said, her voice strained from minor effort.

“He hasn’t done anything wrong, Mother.”

“Scum like this aren’t your friends. It’s the same attitude that led you to your dumb little venture out there.” The spanking ceased. “You will call a servant and tell them that some trash managed to slip in.” There was no response. “Girl, do it now.” With a swift maneuver between hand and foot, Henry was now held in the lady’s hand. Lily received him, holding him between cupped hands. “Ugh, not like that. You hold him like some piece of precious glass. He is not only trash, but a distraction putting you away from your duties. Do as I said.”

“Um, excuse me,” Lily called, a servant quick to approach. Lily held Henry by his legs, dangling upside-down. “I… umm, I found this little rat sneaking about. Could you take him away?” Henry knew not to take the gesture to heart.

“Of course, miss.” The servant took Henry’s torso in a balled-up fist, legs hanging freely. A few nearby guests witnessed the ordeal, and even Leylee Richwood caught a glance of it.

“Wild humans just sneaking about?” someone commented. “Even at a Richwood banquet, they find some hole.”

“At my castle, no such thing ever occurs,” another guest said. “Humans have grit, you have to chastise them frequently to keep them where they should be.”

The servant hurried out of there and gave Henry to a guard. The guard raised an eyebrow, holding him in her hand. “You’re supposed to be in the dungeons, awaiting your fight in the arena.” And like the servant she carried him in a closed first, and the susurrus of the banquet faded, replaced by passing conversation in echoing hallways. Henry heard their descent as the sounds floated above, moving down staircase after staircase. Iron gates screeched open, the air got damper.

Henry was dropped, soaring through dusty and cool air. A hard and fuzzy carpet received him. He’d been dropped through a hole leading down into a relatively large cell, though not proportioned for giants either.

“Come and sit by the fire.” The voice was an older man’s, his eyes staring into the brazier which burned on a stony patch in the cell.

“Uhh…” Answering the man wasn’t Henry’s first priority. He got up and dusted himself off, probing the surroundings. The cell had stone walls on all ends except one, and there the iron bars were tight. It opened into larger cells made to fit giants, and his was like a smaller pocket next to it. Henry stepped up to the iron.

“Run!” someone screamed, and in the distance in one of the cells Henry could see a cluster of humans running from a giant. She wore shabby clothes, dirty, and clearly belonged in these dungeons.

“Wasn’t very smart to put humans in next to the giant criminals,” the old man said. “But that’s how it goes.”

“What makes us so lucky?” Henry said.

“We’re scheduled for the arena. They want us untouched and whole for the challenge.”

A giant foot entered his field of vision and stepped right in front of him, a small tremor produced. But no, this wasn’t just any giant. There were two pairs of feet Henry would be sure to have in memory, Lily’s, and… Indeed, it was her. Henry remembered their roundness, those long toes which had battled and squeezed him, those firm soles which had worn him across miles of woodlands. His eyes traveled up those firm calves and meaty thighs, ended by a short, tattered skirt barely concealing her womanhood. To see between her legs would be the final detail, for he'd recognize that too, the vagina that had tasted, kissed, and swallowed up his entire body. But he was certain without seeing it, the lower body was enough.

This was where everything had first gone wrong, his opponent in the arena who would decide his fate, Ada.