“You’re really pushing it, you know that?” I grumble/ shout to the huge reclining girl. She’s sipping yet another cup of tea, swallowing gallons of the stuff (the size of her bladder is an amazing concept to flirt with). “Hush” she says with a smile, while an enormous hand comes hovering above me and a large finger pats me in the back. “Don’t lose your concentration, you’re doing great.”
Seeing an object the size of large SUV floating an inch above one’s head is not a sight to take in lightly. The sheer weight of this hand is in itself a serious matter for concern. It took me quite a while to get comfortable with these giants things flying at full speed around me. During the first months of the Shrinking, I would wince sometimes at a fast gesture above. I know, this is my girl, she will never hurt me. Yet it took some doing to consider her massive body as matter-of -factly as I do today. I remember dodging often the vast swoosh of her ample arms as she leant forwards to catch something beyond my little shape. I remember her hurt look at times when she caught me wincing or backing away from her touch. I tried to explain Sarah that it had nothing to do with her, that it was really a reflex of my part. As our size difference increased, the grandiose show of her movements was at first just too impressive to contemplate.
I sometimes wonder if things could have been different for me. If my love for Sarah wasn’t rooted at molecular level in me, what would have happened then? Would I have started to consider her (and other people) as monsters, forever out my reach and understanding, vast menaces in an even more threatening world? Would this all rigmarole have turned into a formless nightmare? After all, at her size the slightest error from Sarah could have me splattered against her skin or shoe in a forgetful second. I shudder at the remembrance of the severe depression I suffered from during the first months, losing my job and my future, when the world was slowly changing into a vast universe of giant shapes and losing both its familiarity and safety. I realize now I could very well have gone insane, alone and scared in a world of giants. Noeleen protected me from that.
I hold on to the large pole, and climb on the book till I come level with the open bottle top. The spirit flagrance is overwhelming, stinging my noise and making my eyes water. I dip the pole in the light pink gooey stuff. And I climb down my book (the fiend gave me this prop to help me get the nail polish and its title is adequate enough: “The incredible shrinking man”. This girl just does not have one ethical bone in her vast body). I fight the weight of the brush and lifting it with all my strength, I let it drop on the nail of her big toe. I ‘m a perfectionist and make sure nothing touches her skin. Next to me the toes rest firmly on the smooth tiled surface, like a herd of sleeping animals. The foot itself is flat and immobile (though inner movements are visible), a whale of a foot, the kind of foot that inspires respect and even awe. My girl could crush anything it seems under this massive foot. At times, when I watch her walking around in our house, her giant feet seem so unstoppable, they look like instruments of doom. I always apply caution in the house. I have seen insects disappear in a crunchy noise under her foot, reduced to a stain under her sole, sometimes sticking to it as she keeps walking unaware of the tiny drama (she’d cried if she knew) and I’m well aware this is one of the most plausible accident that could befell me during our life together.
Yet the toes I’m painting right now are undeniably feminine, well shaped, and flagrant and sexy at the same time. Although I do not have much in me of religious fervour, standing next to her feet like this, is akin to me as being close to one of these giant Buddha statues, and I feel sometimes an inch away from sending her a prayer.( I usually send her a wink, that is enough)
In front of me now a long , very long, and extremely huge leg is stretching in the distance, the knee high above me, like an improbable hilltop. I like Noeleen’s legs, they are awesome to scale up and down, and so soft they are. (Her epilating budget could sink a small country, I like to remind her once in a while). The toenail is nearly done now. The surface glistens, and the pink colour is tearing at my eyes. Man, how long will this stuff stay on her? I sigh. She suddenly wriggles her toes, which takes me by surprise. I stumble back away from this moving boulder of a toe and the brush falls on my feet. A shadow covers everything: Noeleen’s massive chest and head are now right above me, her naked breasts hovering close as she leans forward to see the damage. She smiles gleefully at my now shiny pink feet. “You’re silly, she says, this just doesn’t match your eyes. You should have asked me.” She blows on me, accelerating the drying of the stuff that cakes my feet, to my great dismay . (She blows on her toe now as well, acknowledging my handiwork.). Her breath is very hot, from the tea she’s drinking, and scented too, I feel my hair being brushed away under this warm gale. Above, the lips that produced it are rounded now, and shining red (Noeleen is going for a tart day, I can see it coming, and she does it just to annoy me, I’m sure), her mouth is reduced to this massive muscular ring in which I could easily insert my whole body. Her face is really close and while she checks the damage on her toe, I have plenty of time to admire the roundness of her cheek, the straight noise, the liquid flow of her brown hair, and the amazing brown eyes where the reflection of a tiny man is a reminder of my plight.
While she dries her toes, I walk around her foot, which places me right under her ankle. Above, the long slope of her calf reaches high, an delightful arch to admire, and I can’t help but follow the abundant flesh of the underside of her thigh, as it leads me twenty of my meters to the vast base pillar on the floor. Next to it, Noeleen’s crotch, at the base of a wondrous rosy cliff, is tempting me badly again (she wears rather thin and lacy white panties today) . On my left, the long expanse of her outstretched leg on the floor is now like a hill closing my horizon, overwhelming in its sheer mass.
“Aaaaahh! A bug !! Ewwww!!!” I turn round, suddenly scared, looking for the offending beastie, but can’t see any.” Where? Where? ” I stutter. Up in the sky, a pair of giant brown eyes is fixed upon… me. The giant arch above me is suddenly collapsing. I have moved toward Noeleen inner thigh, and the soft flesh is now closing onto me. With a yelp, I have time to jump just out of reach of the massive thigh. I hear the loud smack of the flesh touching the bathroom floor just behind me as I land flat on my belly, in the dark canyon left between her now resting thighs. The wind of the expelled air is washing over me. Still lying on the floor, I turn my face up to…
“Oups, I missed it. Clever buggie!” A vast giggle seems to float in the air, as the wall of flesh next to me is slowly lifting. The shadow slowly covers me as I see the pink flesh is coming right over me and starting its engulfing descent. I yelp again “Noel….” But the flesh settles on my body, my face presses hard into he soft scented thigh, and as the weigh is settling down, pressing every inch of my body, I can only close my eyes. Everything is black. I cannot breathe. I feel the heat of Noeleen’s thigh on my body; I feel the course of her blood in the veins close to me. In the next few seconds , I take stock of my helplessness, stuck as I am under her thigh, a mere little thing with no strength or will that she could feel, totally given to her power, and that she could squash slowly without even the slightest effort. As my lungs start their craving for air, my mind is bizarrely distracted by the situation, as if aloof, and I perceive that somewhere, this is more that just play for me, but a definite arousal. Still, the seconds are piling up a bit too quickly, I find….
“Okey, the buggie is flattened now”, comes her muffled voice. As the thigh lifts off and moves aside, it is replaced by a smiling giant face. I do not move, making a good impression between a dead body and a flapping fish. (She did leave me there for quite a while, and my chest is heaving). “All flat and tidy”, says my insane girlfriend.
“Noeleen, I swear today to take my revenge upon you and your race, in the name of all us bugs who perished at your whim. Just you wait a bit and then I’ll….”“Ow, it’s moving still!”That now throws me back on my feet. I start recoiling from the huge wall and eventually start into a run towards the open space near her feet, when I see the thigh rising again in the air. A shadow covers me, and the large pincer of her two fingers gently lifts me, my feet still treading air. (Damn, I hate when that happens, I know I must look like a cartoon character, but that makes her laugh). “Now, now, don’t get upset, you started to wander away from your appointed task, my knight. That called my severest displeasure. On you go now”, and she deposits me back in front the last untouched toes of her right foot.
“Noeleen, this is all very well but frankly, this is getting a bit tiresome and, to be true, I don’t like this colour “ ( I glance briefly at my own feet, coated with the stuff).“Any other day, I would have listened to your constructive criticism, I swear I would. But today is special, my love.” And she pats me closer to her toes with a finger. “On you go.” She blows me a giant kiss from above. I pretend catching it and falling under its weight (what a comedian…hum) and with a sigh, resume my choir. The brush is heavy with gooey paste and it’s not as easy as it looks, but after a while it’s just a matter of practice. And these ten huge toes have allowed me much practice. I grab another long string of white cotton and, asking Noeleen to lift her toes a bit I stuff the light material between the last two boulders. I’m being careful not to be caught between them, as turning into toejam is not exactly part of my plan for the future. As I resume the last painting job, the image of the prince charming comes to my mind. My Cinderella is barefoot, and I am about to slip a glass shoe on her beautiful foot to get to marry her (a subject that recently came up in our conversation again). Obviously in my story line, the prince, still smiling smugly in contemplation of the night to come, is smeared under the beautiful foot with a “I don’t think so, buster” from the cruel Cinderella and …“You going to finish this one, my love, or do you intend to keep this grin on your face for the rest of the day?”I blush. I don’t know if Noeleen would approve of my fantasies. Sending her a big smile, I retort: “Noeleen, I was remembering our first dates together” and in a masterly sweep of the brush, I give the “coup de grace” to the last toe.
I’m awfully glad to close this polish bottle. It took me quite a while to accomplish the deed and the vapours have given me a slight headache. I step back to admire the works, those ten wriggling toes, now covered in reflective pinkness. My, that was quite a piece, and my shoulders will remember that tomorrow, I know that. “Thank you” she says with a smile. I step back even further. I need to take in this image a bit more. She’s reclining against the bathtub, wearing nothing but her white panties. Her arms are now crossed over her legs. This mountain of tanned, soft flesh is my girl, I have to remind me of this. After nearly four years of Shrinking, I still feel I should pinch myself. I have to crane my neck to see her face high above, her chin resting on her knees. In front of me the toes have been freed from their cotton reigns and are now above me, a wild wriggling bunch. Two enormous soles (hardly wrinkled at all) are facing me. On the floor, my shadow is struggling to cover even quarter of a tile.
We face each other in silence for a minute. She seems to be examining my minute body and shape, this weird little thing at her feet. I can sense her eyes drilling into my small frame. Being watched so intently by a being so much larger than you is also one of these sensations that the Shrinking introduced me to. This creature is my friend; she knows what I think, what I feel and she knows I’m a person, in spite of my size. But still, the sense of absolute domination is never far away. After all I had the unfortunate experience to be looked at by a woman who saw nothing in me but food to ingest. The remembrance of Helen’s cold eyes on me I something I will never forget. Noeleen is looking at me with a strange spark in her eyes and for the first time perhaps, I have this sense of … danger again, in the total stillness of this well lit bathroom. I feel suddenly really exposed in front of the massive shape of my girl, and involuntarily protect my privates from her sight.
“Err, Noeleen, I know I am a fascinating sight for any woman with good taste, but… would care to tell me what exactly is on your mind?” She seems to be waking up from some day dream. Her eyes are gaining on intensity even as she speaks now: “You know, today is my day isn’t it?”
“Yeah, sure, you earned it all right, sweetie. I’m all for it.” (Who am I to contradict this fragile young girl?)“Well, there’s something I’d like to do now, but I don’t know if that’s going to be too much of your liking.” A hungry smile start spreading across the shiny lips.
“Noeleen?”She starts unfolding her giant body, her legs carrying her chest and head to an impossible height. I feel like I’m shrinking again, under the vast shadow. Her hand is reaching for me.