Winnie was apparently a marathon runner. Becca was crushed with enough force to turn her bones to powder a million times, flying through the air each time the massive woman's leg came off the ground, then being slammed down under unbelievable weight when her foot made contact. There was nothing she could do to minimize it, to protect herself from it, or even to ready herself for it. Each stomp down was a new, fresh torture.

She tried to count the steps, but each time the woman's body weight came crashing down on top of her was such a disorienting experience that she found it hard to keep count above the mid-30s. Lacking any reliable count, a watch, or any sign of what was going on outside her dark, sweat-drenched prison, Becca had nothing to time this nightmare with, and no reason to believe that she was not just trapped in an eternity of being crushed under Winnie's foot.

It fucking felt like an eternity. Every time Winnie's foot came down felt like being punched in the gut, like someone was stepping on her toes, like taking a bat to the stomach, and like an airbag exploding in her face, all at once. And it happened over, and over, and over again. Until her gritted-teeth endurance gave way to desperation, and then to abject misery, tears streaking down her face as she begged an uncaring God for mercy. But, when even that failed, and she had no more tears left to shed, Winnie kept running.

The somewhat steady rhythm of it finally allowed Becca to retreat into herself, once she had finally worked her way to accepting the inevitability of the pain. It didn't help time go any faster, but it made the jarring, bone-shaking impact of each step somewhat less of a catastrophe that sent her emotions into a fresh spiral of despair. It was more of just... another thing... And there would be another that would follow after, and again, and again, and again...

It wasn't a line of thinking she could spend very long exploring, though. The only way to deal with it was to accept the present, forget the past, and ignore the future. Everything else was pure misery, because her life was misery at that moment.

But Winnie just kept running. Becca had to keep convincing herself that it would end soon... eventually... but maybe soon... but not now... but soon... maybe now? No, but soon, surely... Her body was basically fixed in place, arms and legs spread underneath the unyielding arch of the giantess' foot, but her mind was running on its own treadmill, trying to stay one step ahead of the soul-crushing misery of her life.

Winnie's cardio endurance couldn't be longer than her sanity's endurance, could it? But this was an excruciating experience, every step was a test of her will to live, and, man, "just a few miles" had a lot of steps.

But then, just like that, it was over. One time, the giantess' weight came off, just like every other time when sh was running, but, instead of slamming back down on her a second later, Becca felt a sudden, frigid wind of fresh air on her back. Winnie had slipped off her shoe and sock in a single motion, finally freeing the shrunken prisoner under her foot. The boiling hot, sweat-soaked flesh of the sole of her foot kept Becca's miniscule weight stuck to it for a moment, but she didn't have to fight to get free. Barely a second after the tight prison of the massive woman's running shoe had been stripped away, Becca tumbled to the ground far below, landing with what felt like a deafening thud on the ground, right next to the giantess' other foot.

Her bare foot, she noticed. Winnie had chosen to take her other shoe off first, giving Becca just a few more moments of torture.

Becca was ready to lie there forever, just try to recover from what had been an eternity of unwarranted punishment. But she was startled upright by the giantess' foot slamming back down to the ground right beside her; if she had fallen just a few feet to the right, she would have been stepped on again.

She recognized the cheap carpet of the sorority house bedrooms. The light peeking in from behind the curtains was still the dim gray of early morning, illuminating the unusually pink and fluffy confines of Winnie's bedroom. For all her hard-edged scholarship and athleticism, the woman decorated her bedroom like the inside of a Hello Kitty store. Just a few feet away was a throw rug so plush that Becca would have been lost in the strands at her size.

Winnie ignored Becca as she unzipped and stripped off her sports bra, freeing a chest that was slick with sweat. Then the running shorts hit the ground, then she slid off the compression shorts, making her way across the tiny room and losing an article of clothing with every step. The hairtie that kept her ponytail up was the last to go. Finally, bare naked, sweaty, and still breathing hard, she crashed onto her bed.

Becca was happy to lay on the ground as the giantess lay on her bed, both of them recovering from the workout. But while Winnie just needed to catch her breath, Becca felt like she needed far, far more. Some ice cream, maybe a vacation.

She almost let herself believe that it was over, but the prey instincts that had developed over her time as a shrunken woman reminded her that she was still in the predator's den. The door was shut and locked, she was too small to escape and had nowhere to hide. Winnie was less than five seconds away from stomping on her again, or eating her alive, or any one of a hundred tortures that she could subject Becca to at this size

But there was also nothing she could do about it. She could only wait; every second was a second that Winnie didn't spend torturing her, and a second closer to Winnie having to leave for class, hopefully leaving Becca alone and unattended in her room.

So Becca lay there, listening as the giantess' breathing grew slower and more measured. Then, with groan, Winnie pushed herself upright; Becca's heart stopped, sure that the next torture was coming soon, but the naked woman just grabbed the water bottle off her endtable and started chugging.

For some reason, Becca couldn't help but watch. Winnie was attractive, sure, but the thing that captivated her was the way that her throat moved and flexed as she downed the bottle of water. She could just imagine being trapped in that bottle, riding down the rapidly descending water level, unable to escape her inevitable descent into the giantess' mouth. Then all it would take would be one swallow...

She shook herself. What the hell was she thinking? After all that time hating life under Winnie's foot, why was she fantasizing now about being eaten alive?

Winnie drained the bottle, which probably didn't have any shrunken human beings in it, and set it back on the nighstand. She didn't fall back into bed, though, but her eyes fixed right on Becca. Fear gripped the shrunken woman, not certain what was coming next but sure that it would be bad. Winnie crossed her right leg over her left knee and rubbed at the sole of her foot. "That was less fun than I thought it would be."

"It wasn't fun for me either," Becca muttered. But she was too small to be heard from that far away, and Winnie wasn't looking for her opinion anyway.

"I think you gave me a blister," Winnie continued. It sounded like an accusation. It sounded like something that she would contrive a punishment for Becca having done to her, even though she did it to herself.

"I guess it seemed more fun in my head," Winnie concluded. She put her foot back down and stretched like a kitten, arms over her head and eyes screwed shut. Then she fell backwards onto her bed again, bare legs dangling over the side.

“We can still have a litlle fun...” Winnie offered. Becca couldn't see the woman's entire body, but she did see her hand reach down between her legs for a quick, exploratory rub. Becca's breath froze in her throat, dreading what might come next. But, after a few seconds, Winnie apparently decided against whatever 'fun' she had in mind, and said, with a frustrated sigh, "Nevermind, no time."

The giantess might be frustrated, but Becca was relieved. Having decided that their time was over, Winnie kicked herself out of bed, taking a few short steps across the room to scoop a pink bathrobe off the floor. She draped it across her shoulders and wrapped it tight around her waist, then stepped back over to Becca. Now barely decent but still with a surprising amount of her chest and legs showing, she loomed overhead, as if having second thoughts about deciding not to use the shrunken woman as a sex toy.

Winnie had been bare naked, from head to toe, just a second ago. But now she was wearing at least something, and the way that Becca could still see up the hem of the robe to the sensitive flesh between the massive woman's legs somehow seemed naughtier, more intimate than just seeing her naked had been.

"Time for you to go back home," the giantess told her. And then she bent down, her head drawing frighteningly close, horrifyingly quickly, and her hand coming out of nowhere to snatch Becca off the carpet. Her fingers went from distant abstractions to massive, fast-moving snakes, closing around her body with unrelenting force. Becca had to fight the urge to recoil, or even to scream in panic. Even after all this time enduring these sudden assaults, the urge never went away, it just became a bit easier to suppress.

Once Becca was ripped off the floor and sent flying through the air, swinging wildly at the side of a giantess draped in terrycloth, it only took a minute, maybe two, before she was back under her impromptu glass prison. But it was a chaotic minute. It felt like Winnie was being intentionally violent about moving her, her limbs flailing around like ropes. Her view of the world span and blurred with every step, with only brief pauses for her to identify where she was. The bedroom, the doorway, the hallway, the stairs, the common area...

And then she hit the ground... no, the table... and then... thunk. All fell still. She was back under the upturned pint glass, the hefty weight of her size remote on top of her, making sure that she wouldn't go anywhere unless a giantess wanted her to.

And it would be a giantess. It would always be a giantess. She was in a sorority house. Her sorority house. The place where she thought that she had developed close, personal friendships. Where she thought she had found besties for life, earned over laughs, tears, and more than a few drinks. But all of them had turned on her the moment that she had a remote controlling her size. Overnight, she had gone from sister into good standing to... well...

She had become exactly what she had thought that Holly was, when she had first shown up at the house.

"Hey there."

Becca twisted to identify the source of the voice, and was surprised to see Suzy, of all people, standing over the table behind her. The Sisterhood Vice President of the sorority was dressed in pretty standard clothes for a trip to class: mid-thigh jean shorts, with the cuffs rolled up once or twice, a t-shirt in the garish school colors, and a backpack that dangled off her left forearm, one of the zippers wide open.

Suzy was the pure, innocent one, right? The one who still went to church? The woman who blushed like a nun caught staring too long at Michelangelo's David? Wrong. Suzy was the woman who attended back-room sex parties, who brought tiny women who they knew personally into their sorority house to be abused by a hundred other women. She was the biggest sexual deviant on the planet, and the rest of the world had no idea.

Becca knew that it had only been one night. She had expected days of torture, with plenty of hours of being ignored, punctuated by minutes' long sprints of sexual abuse from the women she thought had been her friends. She did not expect that Suzy would drop her off, then return the next morning for whatever she had in mind.

"Did you have a good night?" Suzy asked cheerily, all bubbles and smiles. Becca had to look around, and did not fail to notice that, at least from her perspective, she and the giantess were the only two people in the room. She hefted the backpack in Becca's direction. "How about you come with me?"

The remote holding down Becca's prison disappeared, scooped up by Suzy's deft hand and tossed into the bottom of her open backpack. The giantess took a look in the open pocket of her bag, and then planted her hand on top of the glass that kept Becca imprisoned.

Becca watched, seemingly in slow-motion, as the woman's hand flattened against the clear glass, palm against the base, fingers wrapping around the sides. It was like watching a sea monster's tentacles tighten around her bathysphere. And, as the fingers pressed down, flattening the textures of fingerprints into fleshy pads, she could imagine the glass shattering and imploding on her.

And then the glass was gone. It seemed instant, and the fresh air hit Becca like a wall. A second later, Suzy's other hand slammed down on her, pinching her by the waist between thumb and forefinger, and hauling her high, high, high into the air.

She flew, she soared, she fell. There was light, wind, noise, then darkness. Then a slam, an oof, and Becca was suddenly at the bottom of Suzy's backpack, her own size remote a bus-sized body right next to her.

No, she prayed. Not like this. She needed to be somewhere else. If Suzy left her like this, the remote would bowl her over and rattle around inside the bag like the plastic ball inside a spraypaint can, pounding her tiny form to death. She raised her hand, about to scream her protest.

But Suzy didn't even care. The zipper that closed overhead was louder than anything that came before. And, in an instant, all was dark.