Overbearing silence riled Sierra awake. Having drifted into sleep so quickly and so early, she was unable to rest for the entire night. She spent minutes awake on the couch, twisting and yawning, trying to fall back -- but couldn’t. It gnawed at her to know that she was not in the usual neighborhood, with its simulated sounds and environment to disguise the silence. She was in a cage, a box within a cage, which itself was locked in a secure room distant from any normal-sized human. This did not feel like a world to be resting in, but one she should be escaping from.

Of course, there was no reason to escape, but the sensation burned inside her nonetheless. Sierra pondered if this was a natural reaction to anyone who was imprisoned; truly that was how she felt, captive to a situation she had no control over. At least let me sleep through this, she begged herself, flinging an arm off the cushions in frustration. She closed her eyes, exhaled, but remained wide awake.

Then, a tapping was heard. Sierra lifted her head, though she knew it was no knock at her door. From where she lay, she tried to peer out the blinds of the front window, but all she saw were vague shadows moving across what dim lights had been left for the shrunken people. It was evidence enough, however, that someone was out there. It was short of midnight, Sierra noted, so what business did anyone have in the safehouse?

The tapping happened again, but another detail was figured out. Sierra sat up, and she waited to hear it again. Another tap, two taps. The same as before. There was no coincidence to this pattern, its familiar but simple beat resonating in Sierra’s palm as if it was there to be tapped against. She stood up from the couch, only then realizing that she had never undressed from the white outfit given to her. It would have to come with her as she slid to the front door, curious and hopeful of what she might discover.

Outside the community and on the other side of the glass window, the gigantic face of Duval waited, her size swallowing the entirety of the view. Glimpses of her shimmering dress could be seen, indicating that she had also not yet changed out into other clothes. Her eyes lit up upon seeing the tiny front door open, the figure she had come for peeking out from the little gap. Excitement flourished across her expression, but she did not vocalize even a peep of that energy. Through the silence and sternness of her gaze, Duval communicated to Sierra -- she was breaking her out.

Sierra stuttered over nervous laughter, but Duval was quick to shush her with a finger against her lips. The situation was serious; this was no daydream that Sierra was lost in, but an actual departure from the safe and secluded storage of houses. Despite the risks, Duval had come this far, and she would not see her efforts ruined by waking up the wrong person. She was elated to have gotten Sierra’s attention, but it was urgent that they leave immediately, and so she unlocked the safehouse and opened its window just enough for her to sneak a hand in front of Sierra’s miniature house.

In Duval’s grasp was a transport pod, just like the ones used at the lab. Dozens of questions made Sierra hesitate, but the pleading eyes pointed at her persuaded her to take the same leap of faith that Duval had. There was no time or place to talk this out first, and so after gathering her courage and wishing for the best, Sierra hurried into the pod and situated herself in its harnesses. With the same stealthiness as before, Duval resealed the safehouse and crept out of the dim corridors of the security room, her hands tightly balled around the pod as to hide it from view.

Sierra could only guess as to what the world outside the hands was like as she was rushed through it. Only cracks of light filtered past the coil of fingers, followed by the vague murmur of people or an ongoing event. Duval was not caught saying a single word, likely hurrying past others and sneaking through the edges of crowds. It was a crime happening unbeknownst to any of Duval’s peers, a pressure that weighed heavily on both her and Sierra. There was a break from the noise only once they had reached the elevator; neither would dare jinx it, but both felt fledging confidence that they had managed to go undetected.

Finally, the fingers uncurled from around the transport pod. The light blinded Sierra after she had become used to the darkness, but she forced her eyes to open anyway, desperate to see Duval and where she had taken her. Her face was waiting for her, just like before, but there was now an uneasy smile that greeted her, a shamble of joy for having made it this far.

“Sierra… a-are you alright?” Duval asked, checking first for Sierra’s safety. She barely breathed, still choked by her own silence. “I-I was moving so fast, I was afraid I was shaking you, o-or that your harness snapped, or--”

“I’m… I’m fine,” Sierra answered, her hands held up to try and slow Duval’s rambling. From within the confines of the pod, it was all she could do to calm her. “I’m really confused, though. Uh, where are we?”

Duval sighed, relieved that Sierra was unharmed. Before answering the question, she first sought a place to set Sierra down, propping the legs of the transport pod so that it stood evenly on a black marbled surface. “Well, take a look,” Duval chuckled nervously. “It’s the only place where you and I can… be alone.”

With Sierra’s view of the outside fully opened, the answer spoke for itself that this was Duval’s hotel room, an elegant chamber that was plenty wide for the one person occupying it. A warm, secluded atmosphere was made by the color scheme of the walls and furniture, creating a prestigious scene of wealth and comfort. Where Sierra was placed was a mini-bar in the middle of the room, complete with two clean wine glasses out on display that loomed over her position. One half of the room was a living area with lounge chairs circling a coffee table, dimmed lights keeping only the minimum illuminated. The other half was a more open area that surrounded a pristine bed, its thick sheets and comforter yet untouched, and a courtesy curtain provided for privacy when demanded. Most stunning of these sights, however, were the tall windows surrounding the mattress, which offered a fabulous view over the nighttime cityscape.

“This is your hotel room?” Sierra exclaimed, so taken back by the setting that she struggled to undo her buckles within the pod. Even without the significant size of everything in relation to her, the impressive and rich design of the room itself was stunningly modern and elite. “It’s… so much. It’s so pretty!”

Duval glanced over the room and some of its finer details. “Shoote really, um, goes over the top like this,” she said. “We’ve traveled a few times, and it’s always to such gorgeous places like this. Normally, none of us even spend much time in our rooms…” Her attention went back to Sierra, smiling at how bewildered the little woman was in reacting to the hotel room. “Tonight, that’s going to be different. Tonight is very different, ha ha…”

Sierra worked her way out of the pod and onto the cool surface of the mini-bar. The openness immediately chilled her into huddling into her own arms, feeling no less alien to these surroundings while wearing a dress outside her usual wardrobe. “It’s certainly no lab,” she commented. Indeed, there was none of the structure or sterility that the labs were designed with -- it was an unexplored frontier, and Sierra’s spirit for adventure had succumbed to timidity under such overwhelming circumstances.

“I’m sorry for being so hasty about all this,” Duval chuckled nervously. She paced around the mini-bar, her heels clacking against the tiled floor of the kitchenette. “Y-You can imagine, I’m sure, that I had to be quick about doing this. You know… kidnapping a subject. Just kidnapping a subject…”

Sierra chuckled into a cough, feeling about as anxious as Duval. “Would it really be considered kidnapping…?”

“It’s breaking the rules, so it... might as well be.” Again, Duval snickered, but the seriousness clearly weighed on her. She sighed, “I didn’t think this through very far… I never do once alcohol gets involved…”

“Oh. You’ve been drinking?” Sierra had noticed how Duval’s cheeks were flushed and the slacking posture she walked with, but only then connected the thoughts.

“A little bit,” Duval admitted, fixing loose strands of her hair. “A few martinis, a-and some other drink Ericka gave me… oh, and the shots with all the overseers. Hah, th-they’re all partying pretty hard down there. The showcase was a big success… You should be down there too!”

“Me?” Sierra shuddered as she imagined such a scene. “Err… I don’t think I’d fit in.”

“I mean all of you! All the subjects!” Duval clarified. “You were all an important part of the showcase. Thinking of that was, well, what inspired me to come get you in the first place. I never feel comfortable in big crowds, anyway.”

“Neither do I…” Sierra turned where she had been standing, having been too hesitant to move once having exited the pod. “Especially, err, big crowds.”

“Mm. I suppose the experience in the Rook was… a little much?” Duval’s shoulders dropped, reading accurately into Sierra’s pause to reply. “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this, Sierra. I-I wanted this to be a fun experience… I’m hoping I can help turn things around.” She offered a smile, wishing to inspire some positivity, including within herself. “Oh! Y-You look amazing in that dress! I-It sure beats wearing that jumpsuit, right?”

Sierra glanced at her white gown, yet again forgetting she had it on at all. “I-It is lovely,” she bashfully replied. She gazed over Duval’s dress, an excuse to awe over the overseer’s innate charm. “But, you look… stunning. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing when you came to get us.”

Duval giggled, her cheeks warmer than before. “It’s definitely fancier than a lab coat and slacks…”

“I do like the lab coat, though,” Sierra added, but after such a bold comment, she fretted back a pace. Though Duval’s smile was welcoming of the compliment, Sierra felt embarrassed for what she had said. The environment was so unusual to how they normally spoke to one another. As relaxed as the setting was, it equally had its own stresses. It could not be shaken from Sierra’s mind that she was alone in a hotel room with Duval, a dynamic that had her feeling even tinier.

Duval’s hands rubbed together as she sought to fill in the silence. “I suppose we should be celebrating, shouldn’t we?” she said, her eyes sparked with more life. “I did bring you all this way. H-How about I open some of this wine a-and we can have a toast?”

Sierra stuttered to answer, but Duval was already knelt down, fetching a tall bottle of burgundy from the rack under the bar. She was in her own world as she retrieved a wine opener and removed the cork, resulting in a gunshot pop that made Sierra jump. “Oops. S-Sorry about that,” Duval apologized through gritted teeth, continuing to open the bottle with more care. She sat the bottle on the counter and arranged the two glasses, casually repositioning what were tall pillars to the woman on the bar. Duval twisted the label towards her, “Do you, um, like burgundy?”

“... I-It’s alright, but,” Sierra coughed, “I don’t think I can… drink that.” She gawked at the bottle in front of her as though it were a monument that overshadowed her. Despite its grand weight, Duval made light of it in her hands as she reconsidered the idea. “B-But you can drink! Don’t let me stop you!”

“Are you sure…?” Duval wondered how good of an idea it was -- it was not a good idea, she plainly knew, to once again be drinking alongside a shrunken subject. That was a serious rule to be abided by, but the night was a trail of broken rules thus far, and so she was convinced to follow through with what would certainly ease her nerves, if nothing else. “I-I’ll find a way to make it up to you,” she promised as she poured what seemed like a swimming pool’s worth of wine from Sierra’s perspective. With the bottle still in hand, Duval lifted the glass and took a long, satisfying sip, not realizing how intrigued Sierra was to be watching such a mundane scene.

Sierra shied away into the middle of the mini-bar. The light scent of alcohol wafted in the air, tingling her nostrils with its alluring sense of excitement. As Duval enjoyed another drink from her glass, Sierra pondered on the amazing world she was surrounded by, and how out of reach it all was. All the luxuries that a normal person could cherish were far too huge for her; once again, she felt disconnected from her surroundings. It was only Duval herself that brought a familiar center to the surreal landscape, and like an idol to be followed, Sierra felt herself pulled towards this newly rebellious nature the scientist was exhibiting. All of this fraternization was wrong -- yet temptation nevertheless crept up Sierra’s spine.

Duval leaned forward as the pause kept her in giddy suspense. “Is there, uh, anything you want to do?” she inquired, eager to know how she could vitalize Sierra’s experience. “You’re finally out of your cage. D-Don’t you want to explore? You know, stretch out a little?”

Loose hair was nervously curled around Sierra’s finger. As Duval ushered closer and pressed more for her to open up, Sierra trembled towards announcing her obscure want. “Well, there’s… some place I’d like to be,” she giggled quietly, “maybe…”

“Oh, do tell,” Duval pleaded. Her eyes were bright with curiosity. “Anything! Or, anywhere! Ah, anywhere within this room, rather… I know it isn’t much, but…”

“C-Could I, uh, go onto the floor?”

Duval blinked over this request, her smile frozen how it was before Sierra spoke. “... Where on the floor?”

“Just… the floor. In front of you.” Her tenseness briefly broke as she slouched into nervous giggles. Whenever Duval spoke, gusts of wine-hinted breaths passed over her, the scent of desire wanting to lure her further. “I-It’s silly, forget about it.”

“It isn’t-- well, perhaps a tad silly,” Duval confessed in an abrupt giggle, “b-but I’ll do that for you. Sure! Just, uh, why?”

Sierra froze up again, realizing she had no real answer to that reasonable question. “... I’ll feel more comfortable, pr-probably.” She looked towards the edges of the bar, coming up with a lie. “It feels high up here. I-I think I’d feel more grounded if I was on the floor, for a moment at least.”

Duval rose off the counter just enough to extend a hand over to where Sierra stood. The depth of her cleavage was unknowingly on display while positioned this way, presenting a sight that Sierra stared into as she climbed aboard the flattened palm. Once the transition towards the floor began, Sierra instantly felt sick, as if she were exploring the outer boundaries of a dream. This clash of emotions, her intrigue versus her anxieties, riddled her with regret, but the move was over as suddenly as it began. Descended to the floor, Sierra nervously stepped off and turned towards Duval, who had knelt down onto her haunches to reach the clean tiled floor.

The hand disappeared back towards Duval, laid onto her knees with the other. Duval sat awkwardly over top of her heels, her balance no better after a night’s worth of drinks. Sierra initially feared the unstable pose the giant was seated in, but her angle of Duval was far too alluring to just ignore; instead of worrying that Duval might tip over onto her, she worried it would be too obvious that she was staring openly at how she squatted. The bottom of Duval’s dress was tucked between her legs, but Sierra’s perspective was yet advantaged to see the roundness of the giant’s rear, the plushness of each cheek sunk into the backs of her heels for support. Duval’s legs were like an elegant gate meant to be looked through, so big and significant in how it conquered Sierra’s sights. The grace of her blue heels, the smooth musculature of her calves, the boldness and weight of her thighs -- Sierra was immensely grateful that for being so small, her staring was certainly more difficult to notice.

Duval, however, did take notice of how Sierra did not absorb all of her surroundings. She told herself that Sierra was likely scared stiff and could not move on the cold tile, but another thought drunkenly swirled through her head. Her subsequent blink was slow as she wondered, Is she just going to stare up at me? Is that all she wanted? Duval’s cheeks grew hotter, though she believed the redness could not be seen by someone so low beneath her.

“Well… This is the… floor.” Duval giggled, though she managed to maintain her balance by keeping an arm pressed against the rack of wines beside her. Her legs closed together more tightly, hugged by her other arm. “I-Is there anything else you want? Err, to be honest, I’m worried you might get stepped on, even if it’s… just me that could, well, do that.”

Sierra’s stiffness melted into a shiver when posed with such a concept. She warmed into a chuckle as she replied, “I don’t think you’d do that.” She vaguely looked elsewhere around the hotel room, but the indirect mention of Duval’s feet had her focus swaying towards that lowest point of the towering scientist. The base of such tremendous weight, planted into the ground like unflinching redwoods, yet the exposed toes remained fluid, curling when Duval was ever nervous or shifting to stabilize her squat. The sole of her heels was intimidating by itself, but the life inside the footwear effectively sang to her; a pitiful and lowly part of Duval’s body, but at a magnitude that Sierra could not deny was impossibly attractive.

The trance Sierra had fallen into was broken when Duval began to stand. Sierra flinched backwards as if dropped back into reality, gawking up at Duval as she rose to her full titanic height. She stood so she could savor another taste of wine, but her gaze always kept the tiny woman in her peripheral, genuinely afraid she would otherwise lose track of her. Her swallow of the wine was not very smooth as her worries bubbled up mid-drink; casually repositioning a foot felt more immense, and she clumsily overcompensated her balance by shaking over Sierra.

“... Did you say something?” Duval chirped, tilting her head in confusion. She knelt slightly with her ear turned down towards Sierra, but she giggled rather than listened. “Gosh, i-it’s hard to tell when you’re talking or not. You’re so, so far away… or, maybe that’s the burgundy…”

But Sierra had said nothing, still trapped in her own silence as she surveyed the beauty of Duval’s height. She had been on the floor before with Duval towering overhead, including the time they snuck into the studio and Duval had to quickly retrieve her from under the Rook. During those times, Sierra was unable to truly appreciate the staggering scale at which the scientist stood. At full height, Duval was a sheer mountain of a person, one that teetered side to side, sneaking in an extra drink of wine. Leagues of emotion spiralled inside Sierra, and yet all she had thus far was a steep view of her overseer, enamored with her slow giggles and drifting gaze.

The massiveness then faltered -- Sierra gasped and cowered, falling into fear when she noticed Duval misstep and rebalance herself. The amount of power in this one accident was like a car wreck not far from where Sierra stood, but Duval merely scoffed at the trouble it was to center herself while drunk and in heels. Sierra’s shock went without notice, her feebleness overlooked because of sore feet.

“Hey…” Duval began, hesitating when she had trouble setting down her glass. “Uh, I would feel a little easier about this if I got out of these heels…” Without waiting for a response, Duval kicked one foot behind her and unwedged her foot from the shoe. “My feet are killing me, anyway… I-I hope this isn’t an issue.” She giggled in graceless bursts as that same foot was set down, allowing her to do the same to the other. She shook her head as she added, “Of course this isn’t okay. It’s a big, naked foot. Ugh…” Despite her self-disgust, she held both heels together in one hand, deciding that it was safer overall to be barefoot than risk stumbling forward in one lethal misstep.

It was an innocent gesture that Duval thought would be disliked, and to some degree, Sierra had expected the same. Yet when the naked feet, as Duval had phrased it, were rooted back onto the floor, an overwhelming trill danced through Sierra’s body. Her breathing hastened as if making up for the breathlessness of before, her heart drummed with an energy that she couldn’t justify. Duval’s feet had well been visible while inside the heels, but when stripped of that shell and placed on a level field, Sierra saw this lowest point of Duval as something innately more sensual. As her thoughts raced about in a blur, the odor reached her, a subtle scent of sweat and soaps that hypnotized her with abnormal desires. Beyond even the smell was an attraction to the noises Duval’s steps made, the fleshy thump of her soles flattening out against the hard tiles somehow a sound that Sierra was drawn one step closer towards.

“They’re gross, aren’t they?” Duval laughed in a drunken admission. Not noticing Sierra’s approach, she lifted one foot and tucked it behind the other, nervously sliding it up the calf. “I hate my feet. How can you stand looking at them down there…?” Both amused and tipsy, Duval moved the same foot to where Sierra stood, stretching out the big toe into a point. She giggled as it neared her, “Look out~ It’s gonna get you~”

When met with the toe, Sierra still lacked the drive to move aside, only retreating a step when the toe had hovered right in front of her. The round digit huddled into her, its size close to a big beach ball that was shoved into her arms; Sierra grasped it, stuttering over herself in a mix of conflicted feelings. She quivered into it, Duval’s toe more capable of supporting Sierra’s weight than the other way around. A husky chuckle hummed from high above in response to Sierra’s openness, and deciding to press matters forward, Duval pushed her toe more into the little woman, forcing her to stagger backwards even further.

“Heehee… Get it outta here, get it out~” Duval quietly teased, vaguely mimicking Sierra’s voice. “Th-That’s what you’re probably yelling down there, huh?” Far from obsessed with this interaction, Duval returned her foot to where it was, though she felt Sierra’s grip more tightly than she had expected.

The sudden movement left Sierra stumbling forward, but her brain was more tripped up than her legs. Blood rushed to her head for a dizzying result as she stared forward blankly, her emotions staggered like she was. Her fingers curled, remembering the texture of the toe’s skin; her arms shivered, remembering the width of the foot that could easily have bore down on her at any moment. Her heart felt beatless as she pondered what Duval thought -- was she oblivious to the effect it had on her? Sierra blinked and deciphered the expression hanging up above, a slightly amused arc in Duval’s brow with her grin hidden above her chest.

But Sierra also stressed over what that effect exactly was. The enigma that was her fascination kept her paralyzed as Duval buckled her knees, her hands crossed over her lap along with the heels she still held. Each one had the weight of a dump truck, and yet all it took was a casual toss towards the carpeted section of the room to dismiss them. Sierra jumped to life as she felt the distant sound and resonance of the heels falling to the floor, a shiver running her up her spine that made Duval wince with pity.

“Ooh, sorry…” Duval weakly apologized. She chuckled, “B-Better than getting stepped on, right?” Continuing her teasing, she lifted a foot over Sierra, its length away being indiscernible as far as the shrunken woman could tell -- despite being a fair height overhead, it might as well have been directly over Sierra’s head with how she tumbled onto her rear in astonishment. Yet, Duval still giggled, “I can’t even see you down there like this… Where’d you go, hm? Sierra~?”

The sweet singsong tone of Duval’s remark carried far more immensity than intended as it dropped on top of Sierra. From her prone position, Sierra studied the sole and the details that made it Duval’s own. It was familiar, this exact dynamic; it was a detail she envisioned faraway in dreams, a fantasy that she had assumed could never come to be. But as part of Duval’s drunken stupor, she was experiencing this secondary fascination, struggling to comprehend it as real. When the foot sank closer towards her, and its odor once again forced itself onto Sierra, there was no denying the sheer arousal that was overcoming her. She could argue against it no longer, that she was deeply attracted to this humiliating interaction.

The foot shifted to the side, revealing Duval’s mild concern as it lit up across her face. “Oh dear,” she muttered. “A-Are you alright, Sierra? I-I must be making you sick. D-Do you need a bucket, or…?”

Sierra choked on a reply, unsure of what she wanted. But when the foot began to slip aside to return to the floor, she sat up and reached for it. “Wait! N-No, err--!”

Duval froze, hearing just a cheep from Sierra. She knelt down lower and aimed an ear at her. “Sorry, what was that? I-It’s hard to hear--”

“I want your foot!” Sierra’s eyes clenched close, pretending that if she were blind, none of this would be real, and that her shouted confession would just be a figment. “B-Bring it back! I-I want to-- to hold it!”

“... Sierra?” Duval paused, then scoffed amusedly. “Uh, are you okay?”

Sierra felt too close to let the opportunity be pulled away. She remembered the risk she took sneaking into Duval’s glove, she remembered delving into her cleavage while she napped on her desk. Those were far greater risks to her literal life, and yet she had been bold enough then to leap. When presented with this dreamlike chance, in the seclusion of a hotel room separated from rules and regulations, she committed to her desires -- obtuse as they were.

“I… I want your foot…!” Sierra repeated, opening her eyes to the light of her request. She shuddered under the curling toes, but held steady. “I-I love your feet! I-I don’t know! I j-just love them…!” Her face boiled over with redness, but her glare hardly wavered.

Duval bashfully tried to veil how her lips quivered back and forth, uncertain of how to feel. A long pause persisted as she digested this confession, her flustered mind trying to piece together a puzzle like she would a math problem. “... What would you-- What do you want to do with… them?”

Sierra blanked.

“... Alright.” Duval’s voice was more blunt. Sierra motionlessly panicked, frantic over what ‘alright’ could possibly mean. Duval’s foot returned to the floor, seemingly spelling defeat for Sierra’s fantasies. She watched as the overseer swayed into the counter, downed the rest of her burgundy, and sighed contently. Then, her right foot slid forward while she looked back at the wine bottle, pouring herself another glass in silence until it was filled. “Alright.”

“... Al-Alright?” Sierra repeated the cursed word, nearly mad over the vagueness. She cleared her throat and spoke louder, “Alright…?”

“Yeah,” Duval nodded, her lips concealed by the rim of her glass. In truth, Sierra’s words were not heard, but her hesitation spoke volumes. “Go for it. I’ll watch.”

“Huh?”

“I just want to understand. I’ll observe.” A giggle bubbled into her wine as she sipped from it as an excuse to say no more.

The foot inched closer to Sierra, ushering its availability. Though confused, Sierra stood up and shambled forward, closing the distance between her and the row of toes awaiting her. When the big toe twitched, she flinched backwards and continued more cautiously. As if pulled by a leash, she was bound to this direction, incapable of fretting away like her instincts suggested. Her hand stretched forward, nearing a threshold of seduction that she fathomed could break her spirit.

After a touch with her palm atop the broad nail of the big toe, the anxieties plaguing Sierra melted away. There was a calm that followed as she felt the tremendousness of Duval through this lowly part of her, a single toe representing a skyscraper’s worth of weight in the shape of an ornately dressed woman. It was a plain connection to simply be holding her toe, but Sierra’s heart burned like an engine roaring to life, driven to seize the moment.

It began with a kiss before unrolling into a powerful lust. All restraints broke down after Sierra’s lips were laid upon the toe’s skin. Her head moved back with a heavy sigh, her eyes rapidly bouncing across the other toes. Her body shivered in delight before being flung into her desires. She slid between the big toe and the second, succumbing to its grip like forcing herself into an embrace. The wetness of leftover sweat immediately dampened her white dress, but Sierra took pleasure in the moisture, wallowing in its clinginess with an audible moan. Her teeth clenched, recognizing the moan as mannerless, but all rules were null in this space. Tight around her body were two of Duval’s toes, the most bottom points of the scientist’s idolized body; she moaned louder, grinding her crotch into a toe’s side while slumping her torso over the flat nail, her hands itching at their smooth surface like wanting to coil around bed sheets.

The intensity of Sierra’s unchained sexuality was scaled to that of a tickle for Duval’s foot. The reckless and passionate spasms of the woman’s fantasies coming to life were met with a curl of Duval’s toes, a normal reflex in response to the writhing she felt. Duval allowed the scene to unfold with as little interruption as possible, perplexed by what she witnessed and too curious to interfere. Sierra appeared lost in her own world, but Duval remained in the hotel room like she had been, unaffected by the emotional outpour happening at her feet. She felt pecks and gropes, all parts of a miserable display that made no sense to her, but undoubtedly made her feel prized. Beyond just desired, beyond just an ordinary crush, she knew this tiny woman worshipped her, a love that bordered on obsession. Even the most minor twitch of her toes sent chills over Sierra, her diminutive size nearly swallowed when the two toes rose up around her; it was a sight that had Duval giggle aloud, finally tickled enough to release a humble laugh.

Such a melodic tone lured Sierra’s focus temporarily overhead. She panted with her tongue hung out, dry from how it had dragged across the meager inch of sweat-touched skin. Above her, the weight of Duval’s gaze physically drilled onto her. Enormous as she was, Duval had to press her chest inwards in order to peer over it and down at Sierra. It belittled her how the overseer giggled, so unphased and distant, yet that was perfectly how Sierra wished to be humiliated, dismissed like a nuisance. The embarrassment drove her to more shamelessness, pushed past the precipice of regret, and so she nuzzled the knuckle of the big toe with her cheek, massaging what little fat clung to such a minor aspect of Duval’s body.

The rest of the wine was gradually being finished while Sierra tossed and squirmed. Drinking was all Duval felt comfortable doing, but the spinning sensation tempted her. Warmth bubbled up deep within her gut, surfacing atop her cheeks with a red glow. She dwelled on this interaction, this dynamic -- Sierra was an adult woman that willingly submitted herself to this, sacrificing her pride and even risking her health in order to succumb to some obscure fascination. It pained Duval to admit it, but the ridiculousness behind Sierra’s motivations was flattering, and how could it not be? Beneath her, wedged into her toes, was a willing soul that was eager to be not unlike lint trapped with her foot, looked up to like some supreme deity. She humored the thought that they were far beyond being mere researcher and subject, a joke that corrupted what little sanctity remained of their professional, sterile relationship.

Sierra felt the titanic body sway into the counter, her own body nearly uplifted as the toes moved to rebalance. The newly applied tightness on her body was more choking than she expected, but the fact that she had less control was only more enthralling. Duval’s foot succeeded in making her feel weightless as it gently lifted up with Sierra still stuck to it, lifted high enough that her tiny feet could kick at open air. The toes separated and thus her body eventually unclung from the flesh, dropping her back on the tile floor. Disoriented and numb, Sierra collapsed to her knees. She glanced up the enormous body, her questions already answered by what she saw descending over her. Like a stage curtain let loose, the beautiful blue dress Duval had been wearing was undone, released from her body and left to pile up around her ankles.