Jason walked into his Sociology lecture and looked around at the half-full room for any familiar faces. Seeing none, he headed for the side row, two seats wide, running along the wall. He picked the seat near the wall, about halfway up from the stage to the doors in back. He then set himself against the wall and waited for class to start, dreading the moment that the bell would sound, ringing his wine-headache-addled head to kingdom come. It did so, and he winced.
Professor Timms walked out on the stage. He was old, like most of the faculty. He started the class as he always did - by telling everyone to move forward as far as they could. As the seats in front of Jason were all full, he instead pulled out his notebook. Once it was out and in front of him, he thought better of it - knowing he wouldn't be taking any notes - and put it away, opting instead for a book. He was about to open it and begin reading when he noticed a familiar oof.
"Hey." It was Mark, a coworker.
"What's up?"
"Nothing."
They looked at each other for another moment, each waiting for the other to speak. Jason returned to his book as Mark began digging in his bag for something. He pulled out his notebook, which he placed on his desk, and something else, which he poorly hid under his coat. Jason noticed this but ignored it, as he was clearly in no place to point out anyone not paying attention to this extremely interesting lecture on...
He looked up for a moment at the board. "Group Theory." The rest of the class stared ahead with glazed eyes, or downward at doodles and letters, or into the crook of their arm as they entered their 35th hour of sleeping off the weekend hangover.
Or, as Mark was doing, watching Jason. Jason glanced back at the teacher, who was turned away from the class and writing. He glanced back towards the doors and saw that nobody was behind them. He glanced at Mark, who was pointing something small at him.
"Wh-"
There was a pop - quiet, subtle, very unceremonious - and Jason went blind, seeing nothing but white.
"This is payback." Mark's whisper floated out of the white as Jason closed his eyes and shook his head. He felt dizzy and fairly numb. "Maybe now you'll stay away from Kate." Kate was Mark's girlfriend and also a coworker, who Jason supposedly had a crush on. Although he did, and he hid it successfully, the rest of the staff made it a habit to joke about the two of them having an affair. While the thought had crossed both of their minds (seperately), no such thing was going on. Jason had, in fact, recently come to terms with the fact that one of his friends was dating the girl he wanted to date, and he sincerely hoped they were happy together.
"What? I've... never touched Kate." He shook his head again.
"Whatever. You'll be like this for the whole day, then you'll go back to normal. Supposedly you can't get hurt, either, but I don't know if I'd trust that." He snickered. "See you at work tomorrow, if you make it." With that, he stood and began walking out of the classroom. It was at this moment that Jason realized that Mark didn't actually have Sociology.
He shook his head again. Blind? For a day? He could handle that. But what was all that about being invincible?
After squeezing his eyes closed and opening them, he realized the white wasn't quite so bright anymore. His vision was slowly darkening, shapes and colors coming into effect.
He laughed quietly, as Mark had a tendency to take revenge on people in ways that failed miserably for one reason or another. There was a story that, in high school, he filled a diabetic math teacher's coffee with sugar during recess in retaliation for a bad grade. The teacher, however, was under a lot of stress and had dangerously low blood sugar levels, which he commented on to the glass while sitting and drinking the coffee. The coffee, intended to send him into a diabetic coma, actually saved his life. Mark had revealed this gem to the staff after a bottle and a half of nonalcoholic beer, then proceeded to go streaking. When he found out he hadn't been drunk, he tried to get revenge by buying the booze for another staff party and purchasing nonalcoholic beer. He had, however, chosen the same brand they used on him, and they realized this immediately, forcing him to go out and buy Heinekin to make up for it.
The point is that, by being a spiteful, vindictive bastard, Mark ended up being, for the most part, an extremely helpful person.
Jason went to put his head down on his desk, hoping the relaxation would bring his sight back faster, and realized his desk was gone. Confused, he tried to lean against the wall, but that was gone too. Instead he simply fell over. However, this wasn't the painful, out-of-the-seat fall he'd expected, but rather like sitting on a kitchen floor and rocking over onto your side. He waited for somebody to say something. Nobody did.
And then he realized what the strange shape in front of him was - the back of the chair in front of him. He looked down and realized the floor was the same color as the seats. He looked back, and realized that he was laying in his seat, no more than three inches tall.
The panic that he had been shrunk was immediately replaced by the panic that somebody might see him. Without thinking, he scrambled to his feet and ran forward, right off the edge of the chair. He fell what seemed like forever, bounced off the cement floor, into the back of the chair in front of him, and down further onto the ground below that chair, landing on his stomach and bouncing his teeth off the ground. After getting over the shock of what had just happened and the horror that he would probably be a cripple for the rest of his life, he realized that he was perfectly fine. It hadn't even hurt.
He sat up, facing the cement step on top of which was his chair. He stood, jumped, and grabbed onto the edge to pull himself up, noticing that his backpack was gone. As anyone else would've noticed him, he could only assume that Mark had taken it.
He dropped and leaned against the step with his head, taking stock of the situation. He was shrunken. He was, apparently, unable to be hurt. His belongings were taken care of, and everything would go back to normal in one day. What to do in the meantime?
He turned around and leaned against the step, looking the other way for the first time. He froze. Descending like pillars were two great jean'd legs, ending in a pair of gorgeous female feet that had temporarily vacated their sandals. She had her right toes on the back of one sandal and her other foot crossed in back of it, resting on the heel. He had a foot fetish - one that he'd hidden fairly well for some time, but now was finding it painfully difficult to do so. The toes on her suspended foot slowly stretched out, then clenched, then relaxed again as her big toe began softly rubbing back and forth against the second.
Entranced, he began to walk forward. The smell was nonexistant until he got within a few inches of her soles, mostly overwhelmed by that cement smell. Even that close it was faint, and her feet were totally clean - even a little wet. Jason guessed (correctly) that she had just gotten out of the shower, as he thought that he'd noticed her hair was wet at the beginning of class.
He reached out and put a tentative hand on the ball of her foot, which rested at about chest level. Just as he'd become confident that she didn't notice him, she swung her foot off and pushed it back into it's sandal. The other foot did the same thing, and she sat, shoed again, unaware of the small man with the raging erection who stood, quietly and sadly watching. "This class is boring," she whispered to her neighbor.
"Yeah," said her neighbor. "It's almost over, though, I heard that he let the other class go after this part of the lesson."
Upon hearing her voice, Jason looked right and saw another pair of feet, this time in socks, resting outside her shoes. She had a pair of sneakers, but in that style where the heel of the shoe is gone entirely. Her socks were striped, full of varying sized stripes of various green, brown, yellow and black tones.
Realizing that he had both an opportunity to fulfill a dream and a need to secure transportation before the end of class, he began running towards her shoes. As he ducked inside the (surprisingly spacious) right shoe, he saw, down by the toes, a little bit of the sole crunched up. Realizing that her toes had done this to the sole, he smoothed it out and laid where it had been.
He didn't have long to wait. Moments later, the bell rang, and the girl - Kate, in fact - put her shoes back on. She did it slowly, groaning and stretching before doing so. He looked towards the heel, heart racing, as her foot began sliding in. Just before her toes reached him, they came up in anticipation of the little bulge he had just replaced, covered him, then worked him into place in her crevices. While her sock smelled, it didn't smell bad. It smelled, he noticed, faintly like patchouli - an incense favored by partakers of marijuana.
As her toes began the rhythmic squeezing and releasing that was walking, Jason realized that his headache was gone, and smiled. He -had- to thank Mark tomorrow.
Giantess World
