“You’ll be staying in there when you’re not participating in a session or extracurricular work,” Bridget deadpanned with arms crossed as she stood over the clear cell once again containing her tiny friend, which had been placed atop a bookshelf in the Omega’s living room low enough that staring down into its contents was still a viable option.

            Alexandra had of course been inside the Cade home hundreds of times before since she first visited it ten years ago and was well familiar with most nooks and crannies of it, particularly at table height, and yet the entire five-minute trip back to it felt like she’d been taken to a remote location halfway around the globe.  She could hardly say she recognized the place, despite no noticeable physical changes being made to the furnishing.

            The main room, normally warm in its lighting through floor-length windows and personalized by the various black and white photographs Bridget’s mother kept framed on the walls, along with the various souvenir trinkets her father would send home from his work on the other side of the world, had become desolate and perhaps even colder to Alexandra than the waiting area at Aegis.  She couldn’t help but shiver as she glanced unconsciously around the area, having to recognize its components again like a stranger.

            In that moment, it became more apparent than ever how far away it all was from her, and how much like staring into dead space it was.  How she wouldn’t have a prayer of getting anywhere around the house without a lift from her friend.  How a drop from this bookshelf could snap her legs just like had happened to those Betas she was wrongfully convicted of brutalizing.

            How this was no longer her best friend’s home, but a prison.

            Her prison.

            It was enough to make her want to be sick, but her legs were locked to the bed as she grasped the sides with a death grip, half-expecting to be whisked off to soaring heights again without warning in the threatening fist of her best friend.  Obviously Bridget could pluck her up between two fingers without the slightest effort no matter how tightly she held on, but it was the only comfort she had in this moment when the Omega so clearly had shut her ears to any and all normal logic.

            She couldn’t even find the words to speak up to Bridget as the latter continued staring down at her, doe-eyed and unchanged as a centuries-old monument.

            “Do you understand?” the enforcer asked for probably the tenth time that morning, repeating it after nearly every brief explanation about the proceeding of Alexandra’s incarceration.

            Why did she keep saying that, and in that same brain dead tone, like the words were coming from someone else?  Alexandra knew her friend was a professional and followed the provisions of her job to the letter with uncompromising focus, but she also knew the young woman to be very confident in her abilities.  Such robotic rigidity wasn’t necessary to get the message across, and yet here Bridget was, spouting off as though reading from a foreign textbook, like she’d never had to do this before.

            Alexandra’s senses were lost in a nauseating void.  All she could manage in response to Bridget’s question was a nod, the slight dip in her chin making her feel like she was skydiving for the length of a blink.  Her stomach was swirling far too rapidly to make speaking up at this moment an option, and any additional movement made her feel even queasier.  It was all she could do to remain just as startlingly still as the towering visage of her best friend far above.

            “Good,” Bridget said, repeating another word she seemed to have fallen awkwardly into the habit of using.

            There was so much Alexandra wanted to say but knew the phrasing didn’t exist to use.  She felt the need to throw herself on her knees and beg, let the tears come as infinitely as she felt they needed to, and bare her soul to her best friend.

            All she wanted now was to feel safe again.  In the past, whenever she was in Bridget’s palm, she felt more confident in her personal security than when she was walking around on the ground on her own.  The Omega was known for her incredibly steady hands and could make even the most wildly spinning elevation feel like a dreamy comfort cruise.  Though she wasn’t quite esteemed as the very best at it among Alphas and Betas alike, the title of which was unofficially ascribed to another at Aegis, she was universally known to possess a willing pair of palms for anyone with a need to get somewhere safely in a hurry.

            Alexandra wanted to feel that comfort again so badly she almost couldn’t breathe, yet she couldn’t shake the lingering sensation of her friend’s soft finger flesh, previously such a welcome experience, rapidly constricting around her like quicksand to punish her, and then suddenly she literally couldn’t breathe for a moment.

            Why?

            “Your sessions will take place on Tuesdays, starting today, with timing at my discretion, though each could last anywhere from twenty minutes to two hours, depending on how satisfied I am with your progress.  Do you understand?” Bridget announced with a lengthy blink and a focused frown, and Alexandra was puzzled to realize something bizarre.

            She knew that look.  The expression wasn’t so much out of increased anger, but out of a flash of shaky confidence.  It was a look the Alpha didn’t see very often on her friend’s face, as she was so often fully in control of herself, but she’d known her long enough to recognize it for the rare episodes when Bridget was struggling.

            Could she be suspecting?  Just a little?

            Alexandra held her breath and nodded uneasily again.

            “Good.  Additionally, you’ll have the opportunity for conversations about your time here and what you’ve done, also at my discretion.  I’ll reserve the right to withhold this chance if your cooperation isn’t kept up.  Do you understand?”

            Just as quickly as the crack in Bridget’s exterior had appeared, it was gone again, and her tone was back to the mechanical curtness of before.

            Alexandra was on the verge of sinking into herself.  Every attempt she’d made at disagreeing with the statements so far had been swatted aside, and she had a feeling the same would happen again if she chanced it here.  After the squeeze she’d received earlier, she was too afraid to risk going into her friend’s hand again, and had at last decided passivity for the time being would keep her out of harm’s way a little longer.

            “We’re going to go ahead and get started,” Bridget continued onward without waiting for a nod.  Her hand loomed over the box again, and sent Alexandra’s queasiness into overdrive.  “Impress me, and this will be over sooner than it might need to be.”

            The tree trunk digits sheathed the Alpha in their soft palm and brought her quickly out of the cell.  Paralyzed once again in her friend’s grip, Alexandra remained almost entirely limp as Bridget took several meandering steps across the room with her passenger toward a black armchair in the corner.

            “I don’t think I have to tell you, Lexi.  These sessions are designed to ensure you not only understand your crime, but that you also eventually come to empathize with those you’ve… hurt,” Bridget said as she steadily lowered herself into the cushions.

            Alexandra’s blood became as ice.  She knew this perfectly well, but having it spoken aloud made it all the worse.

            Her knowledge of her friend’s specific tactics as an enforcer were vague at best, as she had decided a long time ago that she didn’t want to be privy to more unpleasant specific information than necessary.  What she did know, though, was that Bridget had a penchant for what she referred to as The Golden Rule, particularly when it came to violent offenders.

            Alexandra herself would’ve more accurately called it an ironic dedication to poetic justice, and right now, based on the description of the crime she’d apparently been framed for, it was making her want to vomit.

            The Omega placed her friend on the ground with a plop from a few feet above that very nearly knocked her over from the impact, but she managed to right herself in time, dusting off her pajamas if only to find something to do with her hands to keep them from shaking.

            Forcing herself to stare up at the Olympian image of Bridget seated in the chair was something else that made Alexandra’s stomach turn.  The black flats, the jeans, the smooth midriff-exposing white top seemed larger than ever before on the reclining giant, and despite the fact that the girl was just in a cushy stick of furniture, Alexandra had to convince herself she wasn’t gazing up at a queen on her throne.  She needed to take a few steps back to even fully see her face.

            The Alpha could scarcely remember specific instances from the decade she’d known the girl where she found herself at this level.  At minimum, she would be placed on Bridget’s slender thigh if they were watching a movie together or reading, and that was only if she refused the consistent first offer of sitting atop her shoulder, swaddled up in a few of her gorgeous golden curls for safety.

            Somehow, she had a feeling that security would not be so forthcoming as she stared dead ahead at Bridget’s black shoes, which the Omega was already quietly kicking off with the tips of each and letting them fall to the floor before placing her bare feet on the wooden floor with a fleshy slap.

            “They… all managed to talk eventually, Lexi.  Except the one you put in a coma, obviously,” Bridget informed her friend pithily.  She swallowed hard and slowly began to put on a show with her toes, drumming them against the floor and crossing her big toe over the second one in a manner that almost appeared playful.  “The kinds of things they talked about… you doing.  What happened last night, it just… I…”

            “Enforcer Cade,” Alexandra choked out, knowing she would never be comfortable referring to her best friend that way as long as she lived.

            “Don’t interrupt me,” Bridget warned in a way verging on spitting, and suddenly her tone had become coiled in thorns.  She took a labored huff, clearly having lost her composure for just a second.  “Like I said.  We will have a conversation later today about this.  This, right now, is not a conversation.  You just need to pay attention.”

            Alexandra had nothing.  What could she have possibly said in response?  The words were enough to want to make her cry again, but she was still far too stupefied by the sheer magnitude of her friend seated above her to manage it.

            “The things that happened…” Bridget continued with more focus, biting her lip and narrowing her eyes.  She leaned forward ever so slightly toward the floor, and unconsciously Alexandra lowered herself deeper onto her haunches.  “…they made me sick.  Having to hear them all, one by one, give their version of it, and the looks in their eyes, after something so simple as…”

            Alexandra couldn’t have been prepared for what came next if she’d known a month in advance and received an adrenaline shot or four.  Her tone dropping off into an aching whisper, Bridget clasped her palms to her knees and suddenly one of her two-story-long lower appendages was lifting up off the ground and swinging.

            Her big toe pointed forward, Bridget kicked into her tiny friend without mercy and sent her flying back several feet where she landed flat onto her back with a coughing gasp.

            Alexandra clutched her hands to her stomach, struggling to regain the air robbed of her on the landing that felt akin to having a sandbag fired at her from a catapult.  Groaning painfully, she pulled herself to her knees and stared up just in time to see the looming shadow of the wriggling digits returning.

            She blinked, and in that split second Bridget had flicked the toe into her friend’s chest, causing her to flop back again.  The pain lingered this time, stinging in her breasts, and she moaned, falling flat onto her face as soon as she tried to right herself.

            “The one you did the… least to… was able to give the clearest account,” Bridget whispered as she calmly placed the slightly greasy pad of her big toe down on Alexandra’s back, pinning her to the floor with the simplest tap.  The Alpha screeched, flailing her arms back and forth against the floor like a fish on the off-chance that she was being given any sort of chance, but she discovered instantly that this was not the case.

            “He told how you started out like this.  Just knocking them over and scattering them, with just your… toe… until they had to stop moving just to make it end,” Bridget said, disdain freely flowing in her words.  “And then you started holding them down.  Just like this.”

            Alexandra bit her tongue and shut her eyes.

            “Was this what you were going for, Lexi?” Bridget asked, trying not to let her question sound like a demand.  “Was this what you wanted them to feel like?”

            “NO!” screamed the Alpha.

            “Then get back up and we’ll keep trying to get it right,” the Omega announced, releasing the pressure of her toe.  Alexandra, panicked, scrambled to a standing position and considered dashing off in the other direction, but could tell already how fruitless it would be.

            “What’s the matter?  Not sure what to do now?” Bridget asked with astounding cool.  “Realizing you’re out of options, and the person above you… doesn’t have to care?”

            Alexandra couldn’t bring herself to look back up at the face of the person delivering these words.  She knew it would hurt too much and almost assuredly break off the concentration she knew was desperately needed right now.  Clenching her fists and taking a deep breath, she started sprinting toward the right of the monolithic armchair and its colossal occupant.

            This move was answered exactly as it had been before.  The rubbery tip of Bridget’s toe swept out her little legs as she ran, causing her to somersault over onto her back.  Adjusting the imminent position of her foot, the Omega then brought her squat pinky toe down against Alexandra’s face, brushing along it hard enough that it was more like receiving a padded uppercut from a prizefighter.

            The Alpha grasped her sore jaw and rubbed it in shock, trying to get over the surprise of the blow as the pain settled in.  Gritting her teeth and choking back fresh tears, she rolled onto her side and stood up, still staring only at the floor and pessimistically plotted her next useless tactic.

            Exhaling, she made another move, knowing based on Bridget’s understanding of the falsified crime that holding still for too long would only result in another impact anyway.  This time she actually moved in the direction of her friend’s still-prone foot, hoping the delay in its rise would allow her to try ducking to the side.

            This assumption proved incorrect as well as when the entire row of toes arched up and the bus-sized foot lurched forward with a sticky pop of suction from the floor, reacting just as soon as Alexandra had made a decision.  Curling downward, the hovering toes bulldozed into the girl like charging defensive linemen, sending her flying back several feet yet again, where she landed painfully on her arm.

            With a yelp Alexandra flopped flat on her back again, huffing and puffing to get over the keen burn of it, though was forced back onto her stomach by a hard nudge from Bridget’s big toe that nearly bruised her ribs.  She fought her way back to her feet and dashed forward again, only to be instantly met with a splayed assault from the first appendage which arched lithely upward at the last second, and Alexandra slammed directly into the rosy ball of Bridget’s foot.

            The pattern continued onward innumerable times in what was almost like a pathetic dance by this point, with Alexandra trying a new maneuver each time she rose to her feet for fear of being pinned back to the ground and having the wind punched from her lungs.  Every single attempt was met with a speedy flick of Bridget’s toes or a floor-vibrating slam of her heel down on the ground mere feet away from the cowering Alpha.

            Finally, realizing with some consternation that she wasn’t going to bring about a change no matter how quickly she ran or how alert she tried to keep her senses, Alexandra bit her lip as hard as was necessary to redirect her focus from her desire to cry and sat down cross-legged on the floor like a petulant child before an omnipotent goddess.

            Bridget’s expression remained unchanged as her feet slowly came to rest back in front of the chair, facing forward.

            Her heightened breathing managed to slow itself to a healthier rate at this sight, and Alexandra allowed herself the luxury of some tentative optimism.

            Was it over?

            A rush of wind followed that watered Alexandra’s eyes as both immense bare feet rocketed toward her on either side, creating a low canyon of peachy flesh that instantly trapped her in the middle.  Before she could even consider trying to run toward the parted toes, the only remaining exit, Bridget’s feet were closing together and sealing the Alpha inside with a terrified squeal.

            Satisfied with her grip on her cornered best friend, the enforcer then lifted both feet off from the ground, keeping her legs parallel with the floor, and got to work kneading them together in gratuitous circles.  Her toes were curled against one another, her heels nudged together, and the only remotely open space in the pocketed arches of her feet was occupied by the overwhelmed and emotionally drained body of her friend.

            The walls of wrinkled pink sole were merciless in their barrage.  Alexandra knew they were all that was keeping her from plummeting down to a final fate as a splintered pile on the floor, but the churning of skin on skin, with her thrashing form sandwiched between it, made her realize what a true loss of bodily control was like.

            Even in Bridget’s clenched fist, and pinned under her toe, she had options.  A tilt of her head, a turn of her wrist.  Something.

            Here, there was nothing, and gravity was almost irrelevant.  The Omega had her utterly in her control and at her alarming lack of mercy.

            Alexandra didn’t care anymore about trying to get away, and fully realized the point Bridget was making.  Focus and determination weren’t going to save her, not when someone more powerful than her on such a laughable scale was so intent on making her into personal putty.  The rough rhythm of the skin, the earthy musk and cottony residue from the shoes, and the omnipresent heat working up a sweat in Alexandra as much as it was creating a frictional glaze on its owner as well: it was all unavoidable and inescapable, maybe even inevitable.  The power was more palpable than anything the Alpha had experienced in her life.

            And all Alexandra could do was wish harder than anything she’d ever wished for in her life to understand why her best friend was doing it to her.

            The tears flowed freely and became instantly lost in the grinding shuffle of the Omega’s warm and repugnant flesh, damning in its force and unforgiving in its everlasting imprint on the innocent girl’s tortured mind.