“I hope you all are ready! Because I just had quite the training session with the professor,” cheered a certain pink-haired seductress as she sauntered into her room, closing the door with a jolt behind her. She scanned the area, her rosy pig-tails swaying in the draft as she reached down to unlace her boots.
Far beneath Hilda’s all-seeing gaze, on the expansive stone field of the utilitarian construction of the floors of Garreg Mach Monastery’s dormitory, a young silver-haired boy scarcely the size of a shrew was stirred from his blessed reprieve from this living nightmare. Fear ran through him, renewed with every beat of his heart, a heartbeat that seemed to coincide with each tremble that ran through the cold cement from his merciless captoress’s steps. With a grimace, Ashe pulled his face off the dusty ground and pulled himself to his feet, once again forced to come to terms with his newly-shrunken fate.
Near him, the orange-headed fighter, caught in this same hellish predicament, also woke. Leonie paled as she locked eyes with Hilda’s objectively cute face, once again witnessing the titanic figure of her new deity standing just a few short paces from the doorway. Paces that, from Leonie’s purview, could have crossed the Field of Eagle and Lion in mere moments.
Leonie glanced at Ashe, who glanced back. Behind their eyes, concern for Lysithea, taken from them days ago, lingered. They knew not where she was or what Hilda had done to her for daring to try and escape and maybe bring back help. Perhaps it was better not to know. Yet somehow, they had a feeling that it wouldn’t be long until they found out. One way or another.
With an insurmountable reluctance, both Ashe and Leonie marched from their places under the couch, like cockroaches, wincing at the full torchlight of Hilda’s room.
Hilda gushed and took a deep breath, smiling as her diminished worshipers slinked out from the legs of her room’s couch. “I bet you two missed me! Wait… aren’t there supposed to be… three of you?” She wondered, putting a finger to her cheek as she thought about this.
Ashe grit his teeth, and glanced across the room.
There, in the far corner, shivering from both cold and fear, the young Bernadetta was watching the scene unfold with utter terror. She -- just like the rest -- had been commanded to stay in the exact same spot beneath the left-most front leg of Hilda’s downy-stuffed couch, painstakingly crafted and brought in through Hilda’s connections as a noble. Only the best for their little girl. It also served as the only semblance of sanctuary the group had managed to yet forge since their internment on the floor of the pig-tailed ditz’s bedroom. Here, at the western wall, near the door, Bernie felt pathetically, nakedly exposed. Nevertheless, she drew the short straw. If Bernie could not get help, the four of them were not getting out of this.
“Okay Bernie… y-y-you can do this…” she stuttered. She glanced at the door, closed with too small a slit to escape through the bottom. She would have to wait here until it opened again.
In the meantime, Bernie had the wherewithal to observe Hilda’s massive movements. Hilda was making her way across the room, and even from a relative distance, Bernadetta still found herself sensing the acrid scent of a hard workout and several mock battles permeating the air. Each footstep deposited a perfectly foot-shaped ring of sweat onto the concrete, trickling through her well-worn, well-knit socks. Bernie stopped in front of the couch, turning with purpose as she intentionally planted both feet of hers next to each other, spraying Ashe and Leonie with the excess of her perspiration, and she fell backwards.
“Ahhhhhh…” Hilda was exuberant to finally be able to relax. She sprawled out, spreading her stockinged legs with little concern to those she threatened to smash as they slapped the ground one after another. On a whim, Hilda dragged her left foot across the floor, creating a shiny sheen in its trail where the thin layer of deposited sweat was created, sprinkled too with the ultra-fine fibers that made up her leggings.
“So I guess you’re really not going to tell me where little Bernie went, huh?” Hilda chuckled, her face morphing into the epitome of smugness as she pulled her left leg from the floor, propping it over her right knee. She massaged the bottom of her sole with manicured fingernails, continuing, “Well, suit yourself. Just know… for anyone who defies me… this is where you will be going.”
With precision and care, Hilda drove a fingernail underneath the hem of her thigh-highs, dragging the precious silk down, rolling it. The material adhered to itself easily, peeling away from Hilda’s soft flesh like a particularly moist tape and revealing the pale, sticky skin beneath. A stickiness that only got stickier and stickier as she traveled down her leg, her ankle, until finally revealing --
Ashe and Leonie gasped, stepping aside to avoid the gooey balled up sock that crashed next to them.
There, on Hilda’s foot, was Lysithea. Sprawled eagle-style on the ball of her fleshy pad, she was panting like a rabbit, utterly drenched and dripping, perfectly bonded to Hilda’s soft light pink skin. Her eyes were nearly shut, barely able to squint as though the light were poison. Lysithea coughed a hoarse cough, her shallow breaths unable to even muster the air for it.
Hilda giggled. “Just a reminder! I guess it was a bit mean to keep her on during our exercises. And on the one day I decide to work too! Go figure.” And with a wet SLAP, Hilda’s heel landed on the floor like a falling stone, her upright sole visible for all to bear witness to.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Chop chop! I’m ready for my massage! Or did I not make myself clear?”
“Y-yes ma’am!” Ashe responded, meekly traveling the the bottom of Hilda’s foot to knead his babysoft hands into the flesh of her heel.
“Crystal!” Leonie recited in kind, joining Ashe. Above them, Lysithea still hung, unable to even form words for the sweat that had invaded every bus of her mouth.
From far off, Bernie witnessed the display of power in Lysithea’s frame, practically catatonic, little more than a near-sticker to demonstrate Hilda’s power over the group. She remembered Hilda’s words, the promise of punishment. She looked to the door, shut, unable to be opened without help. She thought of all that lies beyond this cruel room. She allowed the fear of everything that ever could go wrong to possess her, rather than everything that had yet gone wrong, and she decided in that moment, she would rather take her chances with the latter.
Shutting her eyes, Bernadetta began to run back in the direction of her friends, screaming, “AAAAIIIIEEEEE!!! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
Ashe and Leonie saw as she did this, running into the path of the couch, beseeching Hilda’s forgiveness. Ashe screamed out, “Bernie, no!”
Hilda meanwhile, was caught off guard by the mite-sized exclamations from beneath her. “Oh?!” she asked, looking down at the floor as Bernadetta passed below. “So you were hiding over there!”
“Please don’t hurt me I’ll do anything you want just promise to let me live don’t hurt me don’t hurt me don’t hurt me!!!” Bernadetta’s pleas came a mile a minute, yet she slowed down not a single bit.
“Ah, Bernie!” Hilda said, lifting her right foot, still wreathed in stocking, “You know the rules! And what kind of goddess would I be if I weren’t fair?”
Bernadetta hazarded cracking open her eyes to find that she was now engulfed in a sole-shaped shadow. With a pitiful yelp, Bernie picked up the pace, holding her hands up in some sort of foolhardy gesture to protect herself as Hilda’s foot came crashing down, landing upon Bernadetta with a salty wet:
SMACK!!
Buried in that smack, the crunch of Bernadetta’s bones superseded the sound of her flesh squeezing from out of her skin like a balloon. Hilda rubbed her foot into the floor to complete the job, shutting up the shut-in for once and for all. Picking up her foot from the ground, she was pleased to see much of the imprint was gone, only a ghostly impression of the former schoolgirl’s body remaining. The rest was incorporated into the fibers of Hilda’s sock and some -- with a bit of luck -- leaked upwards and coated the beneath of Hilda’s sole itself.
Leonie gasped, and Ashe choked on his own fear as Hilda’s face erupted in rapturous bliss. A moan escaped from her lips as Hilda suspended her foot in the air for a time, displaying the mass of mangled body parts to her former classmates. The pair could just barely make out the strips of Bernie’s black skirt, now properly incorporated with the rest of her as droplets of blood and viscera rained down intermittently. Lysithea, meanwhile, had no reaction, face completely blank, stuck pointing in the opposite direction, as the cold air of the room chilled the sweat that rolled into her agape mouth that she eagerly gulped down, a reprieve from the sauna she had been forced to languish in for what felt like a lifetime.
“Man, that felt good! Even through my socks, that felt really good!” She set the foot back on the ground again, feeling the warm squelch of Bernie’s former mass spread out and soak deeper into her sock once again. “I wonder how it would’ve felt bare… any of you three want to help me try it out?” Hilda asked, glancing down at Ashe and Leonie’s awestruck faces as they collapsed to their knees.
“Hmm… nah, not right now. Might have you lick it off eventually though… oh!” Hilda’s eyes lit up. “Almost forgot!”
And the reached through the neck of her uniform blouse, reaching beneath her well-endowed mammaries. Through the fabric, the group could barely make out the signs of struggling and squirming from within before Hilda’s hand exited the front of her shirt, now holding a yelling and screaming woman in a red uniform with pure white hair. Like Lysithea she too was drenched in a dollop of sweat from being ferried between Hilda’s breasts for who knows how many hours, completely saturating her clothes, eyes, and hair. But she was recognizable enough.
“Meet your new roommate! For the next few seconds anyway...” said Hilda, displaying the former leader of the Black Eagle House to her toys by the nape of her outfit like a stray kitten.
“Wh… what the?!” Edelgard exclaimed, looking around her as she hung perilously in the air, the smell of Hilda’s bare feet wafting upward. “Where am I? H-H-Hilda?! What did you do to me?!”
Edelgard’s exclamations were only met by playful giggles as she was dangled, her booted legs kicking out, trying with unspeakable tenacity to shake herself from between Hilda’s thumb and forefinger while Hilda meanwhile examined Edelgard like a scientific specimen. The level of attention she put into staring at Edelgard unnerved her, almost as much as being reduced to less than the size of a rodent did. She was not usually this focused. Then:
“Wait… what did you mean ‘for the next few seconds!?’”
“Well, the Dining Hall has been closed for a few hours now and to be honest… I’m still starving,” said Hilda, pouting. “I could use something meaty. You’re a bit thin but… you’ll do the trick.”
Edelgard shook her head as she saw the murderous glee in Hilda’s eyes. “Oh… oh no.” She shook it wildly. “No no no no no! You can’t do this! The Empire will – ”
“Ahhhhhhh…” Hilda intoned, opening her mouth and sending a hot, steamy cloud of moist breathy air directly into Edelgard’s face, stopping her tirade in its tracks as the acrid smell of the microscopic remains of thousands and thousands of hot meals blasted her nostrils.
“No, NO!” Edelgard screeched, before she was lifted straight into Hilda’s gaping maw, her torso landing on Hilda’s tongue.
“Ahhhhhh, youuu ‘aste gwood Edy!” With the squirming screaming form in her mouth, Hilda could barely copulate comprehensible sentences. Closing her lips, Hilda allowed naught but Edelgard’s dangling legs to hang out from her newly-formed prison of breath and saliva, but Edelgard’s screams still yet managed to pierce the meaty pouch in which she had been condemned.
Then –
CRUNCH!!
It was over.
With her legs still outstretched, they twitched for a moment, hanging in the air from between Hilda’s lips as they flexed, before going limp, becoming still.
Hilda smiled, a hint of red dribbling down her lips before she sucked in Edelgard’s legs like spaghetti, offering a few more sickening chomps before rearing her head back and swallowing the perfectly uniform mass, sending it down to its final resting place in the depths of her stomach. The metallic, salty, tangy flavor of her classmate was utterly unique, and unlike anything Hilda had ever sampled before.
Down below, Ashe and Leonie could do nothing but watch, helpless. Ashe fell to his knees, even as Leonie turned to gag, knowing nothing would come out.
Hilda licked her lips, cleaning up the blood that had escaped and said, “That was delicious! I have to try that again. I wonder if all the Black Eagle girls are that juicy… anyway…”
Hilda unsheathed her right foot of its stocking, taking extra care to gaze at the mass of juicy flesh that was once Bernadetta before tossing it aside, now baring both feet for her subjects.
“Well? Rub rub, little ones! I have a date with the Professor this evening and I cannot afford looking or feeling any less than my very best.”
Like zombies, Leonie and Ashe silently agreed amongst themselves before they both trudges to a different foot, both of them greeted eagerly by her splayed toes.
“In the meantime I do have to wonder… who will I pick next?”
Hilda leaned her face on her palm, brow wrinkling as she was deep in thought.
“Flayn could be a good one. She was always so adorbs and huggable! Though Petra is really pretty… and a hard worker too! Or hey, maybe even Professor Manuela! So many options…”