Liv always announces her arrival and her bold voice reverberates through the walls as she sings out who’s home. Dan looks at me with terror and shakes his head and blubbers that he can’t do it again. This put me in the middle and as Liv started to come up the stairs I walked outside and shut Dan’s door.

“Who’s that I hear?” She’d be a baritone in a choir.

When she crested the stairs and turned around and saw me standing defiantly in front of his door, the smile of a lion came upon her face, a famished queen of the jungle home from the hunt, blood hot and flushed from working that powerful body of hers, propelling it along the sidewalk. She walks right up to me, each footstep thudding up my wobbly legs and as she looms larger before me, her broad shoulders eclipse mine and I’m eye level with the sweat hidden under her boobs. Dressed in tight running gear that hugs her thick and muscled body, she sneers down at me, that smirk never leaving as a hand goes to her hip and she sizes me up. When she stands this close I can really feel the difference in our heights. She’s somewhere far up in the clouds the upper echelons of six foot something.

“Haven’t seen Dan have you?”

“We were just chatting.”

“And aren’t you such a brave little soldier,” she titters as I stand guard before his door, swapping her hand to the other hip.  

“I’m a steady bulwark.”

“How is the big man?”

“He’s a little under the weather.”

“Poor diddums.” She goes to move past me and my arm shoots out to stop her, a pale twig in the way of a steaming train but she halts, mostly to entertain the idea that I thought I could stop her. “Look at you.” 

“Just trying to do my part ma’am.”

“Bullshit.” She leans down until we’re face to face and even then I can tell her head is bigger than mine, hell when she stands so close to me I can’t help but notice how she totally outsizes me in every aspect of our bodies, she breathes larger, she lives larger. “I know what you like.”

“If you’re so perceptive, why don’t you show me?”

That’s it. Liv grabs a handful of my hair and yanks me behind her, I stumble and almost fall face first into her ass and have to awkwardly fumble behind her to not trip over her legs as she walks with a purpose to her room, she’s really pulling on my hair. She slams the door and throws me on the floor and I land with a soft thud on her carpet. As I roll over my hands shoot up in defence.

“How’d you do it?”

“Do what?” She says as her broad feet land beside me, straddling my torso, each one longer than my ribcage and landing with substantial thumps. The view up her body from the floor is breathtaking, and it’s like the many dreams I’ve had before came alive and now she truly stands over me like a giant. She knows it too, she knows that’s what I’m into, somehow she knows and she’s rubbing it in, letting me really drink in her size and gawk at how her ass eats up those tight shorts and how her washboard abs glisten in the light.

“You know what I mean.”

“But I don’t know what you mean.” Liv squats down until her butt is hanging over my stomach, there’s so much of her I wheeze out when she sits on me with her legs spread out, those trunk thighs of hers boxing my head in and trapping my arms by my side. She plays with me like a schoolyard bully, tensing each quad and batting me back and forth with a final squeeze from both of them as they smush my face together. I can feel my cock poking into the dense flesh of her backside, each cheek covers a large portion of my torso and it’s like we’re detached from each other with this enormous woman setting us apart. “I didn’t do anything. Dan did it to himself, it’s what he really wanted. He might’ve seemed like a big man to you, but I could see it in him, something small and delicate trapped away. He just needed someone like me to show him his place.”

Her words are like music to my ears and I’m lost in the scent worked up between her legs and I’m replaying so many visions I’ve had of her and I start to hump my little hips beneath her, barely budging this behemoth but I try nonetheless and groan as my cock rubs stiff against her plush. I let out a long moan and my eyes roll back.

“Do it to me. Teach me my place,” I whimper pathetically.

Her hand grips my jaw, taking it in its entirety. “Finn…” She says and leans close, I feel her weight roll over my body. “You’re disgusting.”

My eyes shoot open and she’s giving me that smug grin, so close to me I can smell the distaste on her breath.

“I don’t like to make a habit of fucking worms.”

She lets go of my jaw and stands up and I’m left there in a heap with a red face and a wet spot on the tip of my pointed shorts. “W-wait. What?”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

“But, why not?”

“Because you’re a loser. Now get out of my room.”

To say I became obsessed with Liv after that encounter would be an understatement. It consumed my life. I was barely leaving my room letting my mind run wild with thoughts of Liv and her boytoy Dan. I imagined him chained to her cock, even smaller, shorter than her leg and being pulled around by its girth, he lived under her covers and made sure she was satisfied all night, even in her sleep a slight twitch and he was back to work, running his tongue up her length and an absent-minded hand would caress his whole head and press him hard against her pole. Or sometimes I imagined Liv growing larger than all of us, filling the living room with her body, her neck pushed against the ceiling before she bursts through the roof and lets out a mighty roar as she towers over our street. She gets even bigger. Big enough that the tarmac buckles beneath her feet. Houses are pulverised and splinter under the mass of her foot and soon she raises it up and whole city blocks are covered in an ecliptic shadow and down it comes and razes everything to rubble. Laughing thunderously as she scrunches buildings between her broad padded toes.

Each night I hear Liv go at it with Dan and it’s the soundtrack to my thoughts. I’m so jealous of him. At times I drift from being infatuated with her to being impossibly mad with her. It’s so unfair that she won’t do it to me. She can shrink me and she won’t fucking do it. I hate her. I’ll worship her. I avoid her in the kitchen.

When the sun rises the next day, the lawnmower wakes me with its incessant buzzing. It’s so hot today, I can feel it from how the sheets stick to my skin when I roll over. My fault really, it’s been a few days and my room is starting to stink. I am a fucking loser. I repeat Liv’s words to myself. She’s probably the one mowing the lawn too. Now I’m thinking about how sweaty she is and lie there drowning in the thought.

There’s a knock on my door.

“What up boy?” Eric says on the other side.

He’s been away for a week up the coast with his friend learning to surf. It’s a rough reminder of how long it’s been. It must be the weekend. No wonder I smell like cum. God. I can’t let him come in here.

“I’m sick,” I croak from beneath my crusty sheets.

“Spoon of cement brother! Get up, it’s two o’clock.”

“I’ve got covid.”

“I don’t believe you.” He bangs on my door. “La la la la la.” He keeps banging on my door. “Wake up! Wake up!” Eric’s in one of his moods where he’s so happy to be alive that he has to make it my problem.

“Fucking fuck off!”

“I’m coming in Finny boy.” He comes in laughing and is about to say something unrelated but quickly stiffens up. “Bro, okay. Where the fuck is Dan and why does your room smell like that.”

“It’s Liv.”

“Liv?”

“She’s made him her slave,” I say and right as I do the lawnmower roars loudly as it passes by my window.

He confusedly looks at me. “What’d you say?”

I lay back on my bed and the lawnmower is roaring so loudly.

“It’s nothing. What’s up.” I sit up again.

“You wanna go see Dune with me and Casey?”

I tell him no and he hits me back with an argument about how I never leave my room and I tell him I’m just not interested, Timothee Chalamet does nothing for me and Austin Butler turned me off since Elvis which finally gets him to leave me alone. He slams the door shut.

Slowly, I drift back to my perverted mind palace. Listening and imagining Liv pushing the mower outside, she’s probably wearing those brown work boots she wore when she was a labourer and thick cotton socks that bunch up at the top. It’s probably an oven in those boots, those thick threaded socks marinating in the sweat from her size 13’s, they’d be matted flat from her weight. I can already feel sweat seeping across my skin from the sweltering heat as it bleeds into my room, it must be boiling outside. She’d have her hair in a ponytail and short denim shorts and a white tank top stained by sweat. I listen to the mechanical drone for some length of time slowly massaging my dick and relishing in the thought of the stench she’s working up. Being trapped in the tight back pocket of her shorts as her cheeks bunch and tense with each step made, feeling my whole body being pushed to its limit by an ass much larger than I. So claustrophobic trapped by that sun beaten denim against a slab of solid tanned flesh.

When the mower eventually runs quiet it’s replaced by the summer bugs chirping hazily in the air. Since our house is narrow and risen on stilts, I hear through the thin floorboards as Liv passes beneath my room and grunts as she packs the mower away. She lets out a big huff of air and then walks toward the front stairs and I feel the house jolt a little as she takes her first step. She’s so heavy and lackadaisical with throwing around her weight I feel it rattle through my bed as she takes the rest of the stairs up. With one final shaking crash she must’ve flopped onto the couch.

I didn’t realise it but I’d been waiting for this moment and shoot out of bed. I throw on a pair of shorts and walk shirtless outside. My door goes right into the kitchen and the bench overlooks the couches. Liv’s sitting there with her head bent back on the headrest and her big brown work boots kicked onto the low table and there’s dirt and grass shavings stuck in the treads.

“What a stinker,” I say.

Her head snaps up and she doesn’t look happy to see me. “Oh it’s sleeping beauty is it? Really convenient timing fuckhead.”

I stare dumbly. 

“It was your turn this week, you haven’t done it for two months. But surprise surprise. You’re fucking useless.”

“I forgot.”

“Yeah of course you did,” she says. “Just get me a beer Finn.”

“Oh um, where are yours?”

“Second shelf mate, hurry it up.”

God she makes me such a blubbering idiot. I open the fridge and grab two cans of Gold. I walk around the bench and take note of how she’s taking up the whole long side of the L couch with her big arms spread out over the backrest. Her arms are so thick and solid I take a second to glance at them and can’t help compare how much larger they are than my own when she reaches out for the beer.

“Here,” I hand one to her.

She takes it from my hand without thanks and the little can fits snugly in her palm, she cracks it open and takes long, gulping sips. I sit on the short end of the couch and can already smell how the mere presence of her body has started to affect the atmosphere in the room, the windows aren’t cracked a smidge. It’s humid and smells of freshly cut grass mixed with earth and hard-earned sweat. I’m hard as a rock as I crack my own and take a measured sip.

“Are you right?” She says.

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Why are you still here?”

“I thought maybe, we could watch Succession.”

She scoffs. “Oh yeah. Sounds like a great idea.” She doesn’t think that’s true.

I sit back a little awkwardly into the couch. Not really knowing what to say. I’m so bad at this. God she smells good.

She sighs and crunches the can in her hand, already finished. “Get me another one.”

There’s not much I can do aside from oblige and start to wait on her as she scrolls her phone and drinks one beer after the other, she calls me little man. Each time I return I sit patiently on the short end of the couch while she lounges before me, her work boots still laced up and she’s bobbing one foot up and down. I need to be there when she takes them off. That urge builds in me until I have the courage to speak.

“Liv. I, uh. Are you comfortable?”

She stops scrolling and gives me a look. “What do you want?”

It seems ridiculous because I feel like it’s pretty obvious what I want.

“I can’t do anything for you,” she says to my absent speech.

“Maybe I could make you more comfortable?”

She starts laughing at me, not in a fun way like laughing with me. No it started as a scoff then a chuckle and now she’s laughing, she’s laughing at me. The thought of me. She slaps her thigh and her skin ripples behind the sheer mass. “Oh you’re so generous. Such a little gentleman.” She reaches over and pinches my cheek tightly like she’s mad at me then bangs her heel on the table twice. “Well then, up you get sport. Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Sorry?”

“I told you to do something so do it.” She goes back to her phone, trying not to laugh.

I stand up and decide to follow the bait ridden hook dangling before me. I walk around the low table so I’m facing her and kneel down. The bottoms of her work boots face me, if I crouch even lower they’d totally obscure my view of Liv. The treads are enormous, the width of my hand.

“Is this what you mean?”

“You’re on thin ice pipsqueak.”

“Gotcha,” I say but I’m shaking as my hands go to start undoing her laces and it smells so thickly of fresh grass shavings. I have to tug to get the double knot done and I snap away from a sheepish glance when I catch her narrowed but curious eyes staring at me over her phone. I pull one knot loose and then the other and I scoop my hand under the heel and begin to tug on the heavy boot. She lets out a quiet snicker and my cheeks burn red. As it slowly starts to come off I can feel the heat radiating from her socked foot. The muggy scent that slowly starts to ooze out. I pull the boot over her heel and my eyes roll back as I’m hit with the concentrated humidity. It smells like the end of a three-hour hike, like a busy locker room after a gruelling game, like walking home in clothes too hot for the weather, like a seat after a long flight, like the wet and musky underside of thick socks that’ve marinated for hours while she worked on the lawn in the beating hot sun. I breathe deeply. Living in the viscous stench swimming all around.

Something heavy bops my head. I open my eyes and she’s tapping my forehead with her other boot, the thick rubber tread bops me again. “No slacking mister.”

I quickly yank the other one off and sit down further on my heels as I let both of her matted socks take up my whole vision. Each toe prominently pronounced even through the thick cotton, they spread and scrunch the fabric chewing on the cotton and spreading foot funk in the air. I lean a little closer and eye the details of her sock in how some of the threads look fused together and worn after many years of use and toil beneath her colossal weight. The balls of her feet are so broad they span my face and I get so close my nose is practically touching them, sweat breaks on my forehead.

“Can I touch them?” I say.

She doesn’t reply for a few seconds so I pull back to see her expression. She’s shaking her head but she’s smiling.

“So you want to be smaller, right? Is that it? Tiny like a little mouse? Like a teensy, tiny man? Scurrying on the floor, avoiding all us big people doing our big things, hm?” She scrunches her big toes.

“I would do anything,” I say.

“Aw, that’s tough, weally tough. Because, the thing is, I can’t help you even if I wanted to.”

“I’m begging you Liv, please.”

“But Finny, that’s the problem! There’s just not much further down for you to go is all.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“I mean, look at you. I didn’t even tell you to go to my feet and yet look at you. You’re sniffing them like a fucking addict. I can literally smell how gross they are from here, but you don’t mind in the slightest, do you? No you practically jumped at the chance to get my boots off. I can’t make you any smaller because you’re already as small as you need to be. You’re already at the bottom of the food chain bud.”

“But you, you moved your foot,” I say.

“Look, I could squeeze a few centimetres out sure, but don’t you think that’s a little cruel?”

All this while I’m still huffing on this intense scent wafting from her feet it’s making me dizzy. I just want to get back to them. I’m not processing anything she’s saying. I dive back to them and push my cheek against the ball of her foot and I sink into it’s plush, her socks are swollen with her stink and I push my nose to it so it’s going straight to my brain. I start kissing, sticking my tongue against the wet cotton and chewing the sweat out of the fabric, moaning when the salty tang touches my throat.

“Wow.” I hear her mutter and then the powerful vice of her feet grip either side of my head. Her big toes drum my ears flat and she makes me face her, my nose buried in the crevice of her soles. She rolls my head back and forth a bit and I have no choice but to let the rest of my body follow as she manhandles me with those feet of hers. “It’s a little hot I’ll admit, but you’re mostly disgusting. You have the charm of like a, I don’t know, a sewer rat.”

My lips are squished in a pout like a fish as her powerful soles play with my cheeks. “Please make me smaller,” I manage.

“I can’t.” She rolls my head left and my puckered lips kiss deeply into her sole and it’s no longer just a smell but a taste. “I told you.” She rolls me the other way and I taste the bottom of her foot again. “But maybe, we can do more with just a little.”

She separates her feet and I fall to the ground in a heap and cum right there in my pants as Eric and Casey walk in.