For the first time since Lyla was stepped on by the cruel pantheon, Sheila and Julie shared a cage with one another. No supportive embrace. No words shared. There were no other sounds in Lakshmi's shaded room save for their breathing, and the steady ticking of a tireless clock.
Brow furrowed, Sheila studied the huddled form of her surviving daughter; the young woman had her naked, pale, scrawny backside turned toward her. Julie shivered. So did Sheila. Really, they always shook. But to be close to her daughter again, to know that no cruel feet would hold them down and keep them apart, restarted a protective algorithm in Sheila that was impossible to ignore.
The mother rose to her feet. If she couldn't muster any words to comfort her daughter -- what would she possibly say? -- she could at the very least be with her. But when she came close, Julie leapt up and growled, her face wild. Sheila yelped and hopped backward as if a feral dog had dashed out into the street in front of her.
"This is all your fault!" Sheila retreated a step, asking her daughter's name, but Julie took a lunging stomp forward, her wiry lean musculature clenching up as she shrieked, shrill and clipped: "IT'S. ALL. YOUR. FAULT!"
Sheila made a helpless noise and Julie screamed "shut up" with spittle flying from her lips. The daughter charged; she pushed her mother to the ground and started kicking at her. Her kicks became more confident; she kicked the fallen woman with an intent to do serious harm. "I'll kill you!" Julie stomped Sheila, bringing her sole down onto her scarred face, and any part of her that tried to escape her wrath: she stamped Sheila firmly in place. Blood and tears ran down the woman's cheeks as she struggled against the blows. Sheila surrendered with a wail, going limp.
"Julie, please. Oh, Julie, please," the battered woman pleaded on the ground, begging in a bruised, beat up, sobbing heap.
The peal of laughter from above was mocking, yet Sheila was queerly happy to hear it. The woman moaned on the ground as Julie let up; a river of bloody saliva flowed from her mouth. Lakshmi's giant hands snared both tiny women in a fist each: Julie was dropped into one of her gray sneakers; Sheila she brought over to her bed. The tiny woman watched with apprehension as Lakshmi stood at the end of the mattress and stripped off her clothes; she squeaked when the giant gripped her once more.
Lakshmi didn't have a body Sheila would typically be jealous of, and yet she was fearful, and in awe of the titan's nude grandeur. "You are shit. Do you understand? You are NOTHING! An insect I could step on. An insect I will step on if you do not obey me completely. I own you, you pale, pathetic termite. You are inferior. I am your goddess!" Lakshmi hissed every word. "This is it. This is your last warning. If you ever displease me again, I will crush you."
"Thank you, Goddess Lakshmi," Sheila whimpered.
"For the warning," Sheila was about to add, but Lakshmi's fist moved down around her thigh as she lifted her leg onto the edge of the bed. Lakshmi's gloating face disappeared like the moon beyond the horizon of her flesh. The giant reached down with her free hand and spread her fingers, holding her asshole open. Then, screaming "thank you, Goddess Lakshmi" hysterically, Sheila soared straight at the giant's anus. She was forced through the plush wrinkles of oil-slicked flesh, and Lakshmi's thick fingertip pushed her slave deep into the clutches of her sphincter.
###
Sheila scurried over when Lakshmi sat down by the coffee table. The giant removed her sneaker, then her stubby sock, and lowered her glistening bare foot to the table's edge. The spidery toes spread as Sheila approached, and the diminutive being didn't pause for a moment, sliding her blond head deep between Lakshmi's digits and lapping at the sensitive flesh.
No amount of time made Sheila used to the boggy cheddar-like stink between Lakshmi's toes. She had long since schooled her face not to show it. She pulled a glob of soggy lint from the woman's flesh and rolled it into a ball between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. It was like swallowing a rough tennis ball. Then she forced a smile and called, "Thank you, Goddess Lakshmi!"
Lakshmi wasn't paying any attention to her. The woman was already embroiled in a conversation with her mother that Sheila couldn't understand. The scrawny, pale thing had seen better days. The hair she had left was cut in one straight slash, like a doll's after its owner has stopped caring and turned into an impulsive barber, gathering all her hair in one fist and snipping. Sheila's neck was red and raw around her leather collar, which was the same she'd always worn. On the one side her butchered hair was short enough to show off the pink knotted line that ran across her cheek, where Lakshmi's fingernail had sliced her open.
Around Julie's neck was a lace collar, which was just one of many that she wore. And clothes -- Anala dressed her like a cherished figurine. Julie enjoyed a higher station than Sheila, or so it seemed. Her daughter was rarely at anyone's feet other than Anala's. The giant girl still shoved her soles in the tiny's face after practice, and spat on her, and yelled at her and humiliated her, but more and more Julie appeared more like a pet, and less like the slave Sheila was.
The ex-matron was left to clean Lakshmi's feet all on her own, and was kicked over to Fatima, or back, when either goddess tired of her. No one petted her, or acknowledged her -- she was invisible, just a subtle sensation to be enjoyed by the giants, or ignored.
The family was going on a trip. The goliathan trio hadn't shared its plans with Sheila, but it was clear by the heaps of brand-new luggage packed and stacked around the apartment. There was still more to fit, even: mounds of gifts, by the looks of it -- clothes and merchandise, and all manner of odds and ends.
There were a few special items, too: cages filled with shivering white families. Huddling together, looking very much like Sheila did, the first night of her captivity. Sheila didn't waste even a glance at them; her tongue lapped dutifully at the feet of her goddesses.
Really, Sheila was glad for the extra slaves. If she had any luck left -- if luck was even a thing that existed -- it would mean less work for Sheila. She didn't consider their misery, or hold out any hope for them. There was no point in that, now.
###
The gay affair was full of women, young and old, darker or lighter in tone, some wearing traditional saris or pajamas, while others opted for casual, modern shirts and blouses and skirts and slacks. Most people were barefoot, or wearing sandals. They all had wavy brown or black hair -- the majority wore their tresses proudly, but a few kept it clipped short. The women were clearly relatives of Lakshmi and Anala and Fatima from their angular features and their thin bodies, long in limb, with big, bony hands and feet; the same malicious spark glinted in their eyes, too, when they saw the little white slaves the three goddesses had brought with them from America.
It had been a humiliating introduction to a culture Sheila knew nothing about, and wouldn't be invited to join. Passed around by leering women who must have been sisters or cousins, or aunts or nieces of Lakshmi. Fingers unabashedly prodded her breasts, and between her legs, and rubbed painfully at her blond hair. Very quickly passing hands gave way to stamping feet, and Sheila was lowered down to the ground and rolled underfoot, or clenched between toes, or ordered with words she didn't understand, but struggled to obey. These women weren't as practiced as Sheila's goddesses; their treatment was rough and uncaring.
When the ring of women had finally dispersed, giant hands reached down and claimed little pets. The miniaturized families were split up, carried off into all corners of the home, which was mostly one large room. Anyone who resisted, or disobeyed, was tortured for the amusement of the giants; obedient pets, like Sheila, were given humiliating tasks. Meanwhile the gathering of looming women laughed, and chatted, and sorted through the bounty of offerings Lakshmi brought with her.
Thus Sheila skittered across the ground, naked and collared like the rest of her kind, doing her best to carry a shot glass-sized cup of something alcoholic, and to dodge the big brown feet that stomped all around her. The glass was icy on her breasts and tummy and hips, and sticky on her skin where the liquid sloshed and spilled. All the small hairs of her flesh raised each time a bus-sized sole slapped near, and she yelped like a startled pup.
She didn't wonder whether she might be stepped on; there was clear evidence it was possible: a woman about Sheila's age had been mashed into the hard plane of the floor, its red-brown tiles camouflaging some of the mangled figure's splattered blood and guts. Each time Sheila passed by the flattened form of the woman, she appeared less like a human corpse and more like an indiscernible smudge as the giants continued to trod on her without a care. Her squashed, pathetic body was grooved from the lined flesh of the soles which crushed her -- like sneaker treads imprinting squashed gum -- and her ripped up pale flesh was caked over with grime and dust.
Only Julie seemed to escape the horrors of the floor. She was with Anala, impeccably dressed as always, and Lakshmi's pride and joy was almost affectionate in her attention. Julie pleased her in the way a well-trained dog might as Anala ordered her to do tricks for her friends, and to prove her subservience. Sheila felt a pang of jealousy for the girl, who she hadn't spoken to in months, who barely seemed her daughter anymore. She wasn't seen as human, but at the very least, she wasn't treated like a worthless insect.
Sheila wasn't told to do tricks. Any giant who passed overhead was liable to press her flat and order her to kiss their sole; and she'd thank them for the privilege as loudly as she could. The stink of their feet clung to her flesh. She caught wind of herself as she scurried around and it only deepened her shame. Clutching her barrel of a glass, Sheila ran into another shrunken woman, younger -- around Lyla's age -- and the two gasped and stopped to look at one another. But not for long: tanned feet smacked by the floor all around them.
The young woman screamed as trunk-like fingers pinched the glass she held, and for a moment in time she was lifted with the glass, before she thought to let go. Gloom swallowed Sheila and her beverage was taken from her, too; the tiny blond fell backward, and stared upward with horror at Lakshmi's grinning face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glazed. Drunk, as was the titanic woman standing next to her, who could have been Lakshmi's sister for all the similarities in their features. Sheila didn't gape for longer than a breath; she fell on Lakshmi's slender, knobby toes and kissed and licked her master's flesh.
High in the heavens, the pair jawed excitedly, though Sheila detected building frustration in their tone even though she didn't know what was being said. When the giants laughed down, Sheila couldn't help but glance up to see if they were chuckling at her: to her relief, both Lakshmi and her companion jeered at the other slave.
Sheila gazed across the floor and saw how the scrawny, freckled brunette was frozen. The girl's knees knocked together as she stared, slack-jawed, at the mammoth beings before her. A wink of light reflected off wetness on the woman's thigh: she was pissing herself. The brunette let out a truly pathetic squeak before gazing back at Sheila and mouthing "help" with a chattering jaw. Then a plump brown toe smacked the girl in the head and knocked her over.
The giant's digit didn't give the young woman a chance to recover. It lowered down with her, and held her head against the tile. She kicked and thrashed and beat at the flesh that pinned her, but, like a squirming insect, she couldn't get free. The thick toe curled and the skin paled where it exerted a powerful force onto the tiny creature's cranium. The teen's face turned as red as a tomato, then her teeth exploded outward and her eyeballs popped from their sockets as -- with the barest of ease -- the giant's appendage plowed through the head beneath it. The young woman's skull smashed flat with a crackle; then the rest of the giant's foot settled on what was left of her.
The gruesome imagery refused to leave Sheila's mind as she redoubled her efforts to stay focused only on Lakshmi's toes. She lapped with abandon, and squealed with desperate frustration when she was kicked away. With fear and confusion, Sheila gazed up at her owner.
"Worthless," Lakshmi intoned as she stared unblinkingly at Sheila.
With fast-growing dread Sheila watched Lakshmi's familiar sole rise into the air. She knew every inch of the towering woman's foot; the sight of it was as identifiable and unique to her as Lakshmi's face. Every curve, and bump of bone, and swell of flesh. The sole was a powerful sight, as if Sheila found herself before an imposing monolith of unknown origin.
Sheila fell to her knees and clasped her hands above her, spewing out garbled prayers to Lakshmi for mercy.
Lakshmi barked a laugh, and then grinned a happy little grin, and flexed the toes of her raised foot with a popping crunch of her knuckles.
"Dumb little bug!"
Giantess World
Chapter End Notes:
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