The door to Liza’s room opened. Her quarters reminded them all how she wasn’t particularly wealthy. The bed was simple and against the corner of the room, a plain pillow and dull, yellow sheet. Beside the head of the bed was a night table, at the foot it a dresser. Against the opposite wall was her wardrobe flanked by two square windows. There were shelves stacked with books, hooks which were lined with curious cords, ropes for a human but threads for a giant. Some of them had a toe ring on one end and a collar fit for a human’s neck on the other.

The five slaves, six counting Martin, were on her bed, and Liza had left them with pairs of her worn panties to indulge in. They all jumped with energy, scurrying to the edge of the bed to meet her, verbally showering her with the joy filling their heart upon Mommy’s return. Everyone except Martin.

Liza put Garrick down on the bed. “I’ll be with you soon, Slaves. Mommy needs to spend some time on the two newer ones, just like she did with all of you when you were new.”

“When will Mommy be back?”

“Now, now, be patient.” Liza reached out and took Martin. She held onto the bed frame for support as she slipped her left foot out of her sandal and hovered it over the slaves. Like starving dogs, their necks extended, mouths open. Slave One literally drooled. With a coquettish giggle, Liza pulled her foot back and returned it back to her sandal. “My Slaves can wait, can’t they? Mommy has taught them well, hasn’t she?”

“Y—Yes she has.”

Liza turned around, her teal dress following with a twirl. The sandals clapped against her heels as she left, closing the door after her.

“Did Mommy teach you to like her toes?” Slave Three asked Garrick.

Garrick scowled, the titillations in his groin still lingering from the orgasm. “Don’t talk to me.”

“I was grouchy too,” Slave One said. “I remember, we were all like that at first.”

“Where are you guys from, anyway?”

Garrick’s question made them exchange looks. Slave One said, “Mommy doesn’t want us to talk about our time before this.”

“Well, she’s not here.”

They looked amongst one another again. “He doesn’t get it.”

Garrick sighed. “Hopefully, I never will.” They all went their own ways, two of them to her panties where they lay and snuggled against it, the other two to her pillow. But Slave Five, Harry, he met Garrick’s eyes and gave a greeting nod. Garrick approached him. “You seem to have your wits about you still.”

“You could say that.”

“Slave Five. I’m assuming you came here the latest, before us. Kidnapped, I should say, not came. Where are you from?” Garrick peered about himself. “If it’s ‘allowed’ to mention.”

“From Bellstead, in the west. My father’s a cobbler, and I dabbled in the arcane at the side. I came east to gain an apprenticeship under a witch, travelled through the Koll Mountains, and Mo— she got me while I rested.”

“Her name is Liza,” Garrick said, seeing the part of him that was still there and reaching in with any information that might help him. He would undo the damage she’d done, reverse whatever spell of derangement these slaves had descended into.

“How do you know that?”

“Overheard her talking to herself. Your name was Harry, was it?”

He nodded.

“How do you keep yourself sane in here? Are you really just accepting things as they are? Calling her Mommy and all that?”

Harry presented his forearms, dressed in the black hardgum. “You’ve got any ideas?”

“I’ve had some thoughts… Hardgum, when it dries up and hardens, it’s not the toughest material out there.”

Harry was listening.

Garrick tugged at the bottom by the lower end of his forearm, its texture gummy and yielding. “We spread it thin, let it harden, then find a way to crack it. Everything is large, there’ll for sure be something heavy and strong enough.”

“The air is humid around here,” Harry said. “The hardgum rarely dries. And, well, you saw it for yourself. She gets horny and wet several times a day. And if it’s not straight in her cum, it’s against her body, where it gets hot and moist. Bottom line, there’s a lot of wet interruptions throughout the day, no time to let it dry.”

Garrick noted the elongated square of sunlight stretched across the floor, beaming through the window. “Summer has just begun. The last few days have been warmer than ever before.”

Harry wasn’t quick to repudiate that point. “It’s never been warm during my time here, no.”

“Right?”

“Listen, I doubt it’s the solution you think it is. There’s no simple way out of this. And, frankly, you know why everyone accepts this? We’re well fed, taken care of, have little to worry about. I took this up with your friend just now, while she had you, but she’s a lot bigger than us. She can literally do whatever she wants with us, and we should be happy she’s not a bad person.”

“Not a bad person? Have you lost your mind? She’s kidnapped all of us to make us satisfy her twisted desires, has that part gone over your head?”

Harry shrugged. “You know what I mean. No torture or pain, she’s not selling us to the black market. Far across the seas, I’ve heard there’s a group called the Gray Rhinos, who use humans for experiments. This could be much worse. We should at least be happy it’s some innocent horniness.”

“Innocent ho—” Garrick flinched with his puzzled grimace.

“I’m not saying I prefer this. If a good chance presents itself, I’ll take it. But the way you talk about drying the hardgum, cracking it, in a way you still don’t know, these aren’t good plans. They smell of that unwillingness to accept things as they are. I had that too.”

“I have that for a good reason.” Garrick marched to the slit of sunlight coming through the side of the curtain not fully covering the window by the bed. There, Garrick sat and bared his hardgum forearms to the sunlight. In the background, the slaves were getting cozy in her panties and pillow, bathing in her scents.

Harry joined Garrick’s side, and he spoke about his life, and it confirmed to Garrick that he did indeed enjoy the presence of someone different from the rest, this stupefied bunch of four who couldn’t see anything beyond their life as Mommy’s slaves. Garrick couldn’t quite assess Harry’s mindset, he carried himself with some self-respect, yet didn’t battle the notion of being Liza’s slave.

The door opened, Liza holding Martin in her hand. He had a cloudy look, regaining focus, and given what Garrick knew, his post-orgasmic nature was clear. She’d likely had him pleasured underneath her foot as well.

The slaves once again congregated at the edge of the bed to meet her. And Liza left them hanging once again, dropping Martin off and announcing she had to prepare their food as she left again.

“Did she jerk you off as well?” Garrick asked his friend.

“Yeah… Her foot was soft… Can’t believe how big she is.”

“I’ve thought of a plan.” Garrick compared the state of his sun-batched hardgum to Martin’s, who had recently been under her humid feet. There was a noticeable difference, Garrick’s producing a clunk when knocked on while Martin’s was gummy still. He revealed the idea he had.

“Once it dries and gets stiff, what force do we have to break the hardgum? We’d have the strength if we had access to our magic, but that’s the problem to begin with.”

Garrick shrugged. “Shouldn’t be impossible to find something. We’re surrounded by enormity. Let’s start thinking, at least. We’ve got time.”

“Should something appear in this head of mine, I’ll tell you.”

After a while, Liza returned. “Dinner’s ready, slaves.” She snapped her fingers and pointed to her feet. “Come to Mommy.”

They didn’t hesitate to jump off the bed, landing on the floor with a series of thunks. They looked like ducklings following the hen. Harry took a few steps forward, glanced back at Garrick and Martin, then indicated forward. They followed. They were last to arrive before her great, sandalled feet, the slender and round toes happily waving before the slaves like eye candy, testing their self-restraint. Their heads rotated, following the toes like a cat tracing a fly in the air.

“They’re beautiful, Mommy!”

“Oh yes, they are.” She slapped her hands together and turned around, taking her steps slowly to let them all catch up. Garrick and Martin stared up at the walls of the hallway, noting two more closed doors along their side before they arrived at the open doorway leading into the main room. There, a sink and stone oven stood near the corner, a pile of crudely cut logs beside it with a small kitchen table and two chairs over a blue carpet. The door outside was open, Garrick seeing the tall mountains through it and the windows.

Liza sat at the table, a bowl of porridge and plate of fruits and nuts presented. Garrick and Martin simply followed the others, Harry giving them a few signals and marks to follow. He wasn’t surprised they weren’t placed on the table to eat, but ran underneath it, seeing the vast teal canvas that was her dress rise up with her legs, tuck in over her knees, and up her abdomen before disappearing past the table ledge. Her feet slipped out of her sandals and sat on top of them.

“Slave One to Five, I hope you’ll show our newcomers how the table manners around here are.” Liza leaned back and bent down with a spoonful of porridge. She dispersed the spoonful out over her left foot in two portions, spreading its pasty, thick texture with the bottom of the spoon. “One and Two, eat.”

“Thank you, Mommy!” They ran forward and cast themselves at her foot, beginning before any of it was allowed to skid down the slope of her foot. While they worked, she set out two new portions on her other foot, and Slave Three and Four took that one. The porridge had brownish hue from the cinnamon, with fragments of walnut and apple throughout giving the slaves an interruption to their licking and slurping as they had to chew sometimes. The quality of food didn’t seem poor, especially as Slave Four had a stout frame which he’d been able to maintain throughout his time here, a time which can’t have been short considering how devoted he was.

Garrick and Martin realized they were indeed hungry, and that, as they weren’t willing to resist to the point of starvation, would be licking their sustenance up like the slaves soon enough. They wouldn’t be as slavish as they were, Slave One and Two were clearly going over patches they’d already licked clean of porridge, continuing to lick and kiss the skin. Liza would occasionally lean back and peer down with a mouthful of her own food, watching them. Downsized to their proportions, the chunks off her spoon amounted to more than a bowl for each slave.

When they finished, she let them kiss her for another minute before sending them back. Then, she tilted her feet, letting them rest on the outer side with the soles facing each other. The spoon of porridge returned, leaving a chunk on the top of her tilted left sole.

“Slave Five, show your companions how it’s done,” Liza said, setting down two different chunks on her other foot. “Show how delectable the food is off Mommy’s feet.”

“Yes, Mommy,” he said. Harry turned back to the two of them, nodding with him as he took a step forward. “It’s not worth starving, guys. Come.” He went ahead.

Garrick didn’t move for the first few seconds, turning to Martin. Martin took that first, crucial step. “He’s right.”

Garrick knew it. Though acting on it was different, and it took a great deal to march up to her other foot and lick. But he did, and the porridge was indeed delicious. Her foot didn’t spoil the taste, they’d been so properly cleaned that it couldn’t be much worse than scooping the food off a washed plate.

Liza had her feet tilted back, to not make a straight drop down her soles and give the porridge a slope to decline upon. Her feet, as massive as they were, weren’t wider than they were tall, and Garrick and Martin had full access to its entirety. Garrick licked the porridge down her arch while Martin was on the ball of her foot, and Garrick had to get into the wrinkles to get as much of it as possible. Her sole was so soft that Garrick found himself slurping and sucking until he realized the porridge was long gone and he’d spent his seconds making out with her foot flesh. There was almost a hypnotic feel to the squishiness it had between his lips and teeth, firm yet soft, pleasant to chew at.

Garrick snapped out of it, noticing his position. He had hoped to bring Harry out of the slave-like trance he was in, recruit him back to his old self. But it seemed the opposite was happening, Harry drawing them to the slave side.