Erik had absolutely no details, no context for his situation now. He had been passed off from Kim to this woman, and dumped unceremoniously into her purse, and then everything else was darkness, motion, and whatever context he could piece together from outside noise. He was trying desperately to figure out where the hell he was, and who his new owner was. Or, as Kim had told him, his new mistress.

He hated both words. He was a free man, dammit! All he had done was swipe right on a promising date! He had no "mistress," he had no "owner," he was caught up in a terrible mistake, and he was sure that he would be able to set things right soon. If not, the company that owned Syze, which spent a lot of time and money assuring its users that its service was perfectly safe, would kick one of those safeguards into gear. And lawyers, like knights in well-tailored wool armor, would come riding to his rescue.

Or so he told himself. But none of that mattered if nobody knew where he was. And, for now, even he didn't know. And his new... person... didn't seem interested in telling him either. He wasn't even sure if she spoke English. All he knew was that she looked, and her language sounded, vaguely Asian. So he was somewhere in Asia.

Probably.

Fuck, this was hopeless.

But he had time to piece together the facts, while he was still trapped in the giantess' purse. At his size, it didn't take long for him to settle to the bottom, underneath the boulders of larger objects like lipstick, tampons, and her wallet. After only a few minutes, he was lying on a bedrock of crushed receipts and loose coins, so he was relatively well settled and didn't have to suffer the pain and chaos of being tossed about like a pachinko ball every time the massive woman moved. For now, the motion, and occasional stillness, of her going about her day was a distant thing, an ambiance, like the sound of traffic outside the window.

He already knew that he had flown very far to get here, and he had been smuggled, probably illegally, by Kim through whatever checkpoints that she herself had to pass through to get there. That was why she had had to put him in her mouth for so long, he suspected. In the moment, all he had felt was panic; and he still was still a bit twitchy about it in a way that he knew would be waking him from his sleep someday in the distant future; but he had been able to figure out that it was simply a tactical choice on her part. The body scanner, magnetic thing, or whatever it was, wouldn't detect a tiny tucked away in her cheek like a breath mint.

So he was far away, far enough away that this new woman didn't even bother speaking English to her new toy. Or, well... To Erik! To the free man that she thought was her toy. But what did that mean?

She didn't speak English. He was clearly someone who only spoke English, and had been introduced to this woman in English. She had responded in her language, apparently not caring that he knew what she wanted from him, or even who she was. And, since then, she had made no attempt to communicate with him at all.

That's not how you treated a person. Erik was certain about this. He had only been with this woman for a few hours, maybe less, but absolutely nothing she had done to him made him feel like she acknowledged that he existed. So all that was left for him was the conclusion that she didn't think he was a person. To her, he was property. Just as much as the tube of chapstick and the coins that were bundled up around him at the bottom of her purse.

And what did that mean for him? Normally, when there was a Syze match, the giantess who had the matching phone controlled everything. He thought that it had been Kim, his erstwhile match from another continent, but now it was clearly this stranger. Had Kim turned over the phone to her?

The sounds that came from outside... They were alien, inconsistent, but strangely familiar. With time, Erik realized that it was the sounds of mass transit. Of a subway car stopping and starting, the chatter of strangers, the overhead voice of an announcer. But all of it was in a different language. Something he couldn't understand.

So he was in a city. That didn't help him now, but he was desperate for information at this point.

A city, probably in Asia, with an unknown Asian woman who had claimed him as her property. That's all he had. By his reckoning, that narrowed his situation down to about two billion human beings. If that battalion of lawyer-knights was going to come over the horizon any time soon, he would need more than that.

The giantess' purse was an absolutely terrible window through which to view the world. He could only feel motion and hear vague sounds. Nobody was there to tell him what was happening, and, even after it had already happened, he had to work to figure out what the hell it was.

But the inside of her purse was all he had, and it stayed that way for a very long time. Multiple times, he heard the environment they were in shifting as the strange woman passed through some unknown threshold, replacing the hum of traffic with the noise of crowds, or quiet music, or an overhead voice that he couldn't understand. He knew that he was hanging from her shoulder still, with the way that he rocked gently back and forth, and shuddered slightly every time her foot hit the ground. But even that sensation wasn't constant. A jarring shift in motion, a deafening slam, and a sudden stillness, was his sure-fire sign that the giantess had set her purse down on... something. Some horizontal surface she found suitable for this purpose. And then she would leave him alone, neither light nor air piercing the entrance far above, for some interminable period of time, until she scooped his prison up and carried on her way.

All he could tell was that, no matter where she went, it was crowded. He thought he knew what cities were like, but at some point she should have retreated into some quiet place, right? An apartment, a car, a single-person bathroom, even a restaurant with too few patrons. But, no matter where she went, there was noise everywhere. Most often, it was the wall of noise that came from an untold number of strangers going about their business, but sometimes it was the blanketing noise; the quiet music in an elevator or a subway car, the droning fan inside a bathroom; that some locations used to help people who wanted some pretext to ignore one another when the situation they shared was too awkward to be social. But at no time, rattling around at the bottom of this woman's purse, did he think that she had entered a space where she would be comfortable sleeping.

He had no real way of knowing how much time was passing, either. He thought he had a good guess, but eventually he realized that he was being startled back into awareness from a lull every time the situation around him changed enough for him to notice. His environment was so boring that he couldn't help but zone out, and he knew that time tended to do funny things once you were in a place where you no longer paid attention to its passing.

So it was either thirty minutes, or ten hours after he had been handed off to this stranger that he realized that he was in the presence of true, uninterrupted quiet. The giantess had set down her purse, jarring him from the friendly, familiar rhythm of her gait and snapping him back to his senses. And he realized, after a delay, that there wasn't really any ambient noise at all. All he could hear was the squeak of the giantess' shoes against polished concrete, echoing strangely, like she was in some unusually large space.

The massive woman tore open the top to her purse, allowing blinding, fluorescent lighting from above to trickle its way through layers of sediment to Erik. She dug her hand through the chaff that covered him, and her massive fingers wrapped around his tiny body effortlessly. Erik couldn't help but notice, in that moment as those living, flexible extensions of a goddess' will sough him out, that the fingernails were freshly-painted a dark blue color.

So he knew at least one thing that she had been doing while she was out.

The stranger ripped him out into the open air and brought him up to her massive face. Once more, he was confronted with those dark brown eyes, touched by a bright smile that shone through her face. She was Asian, of one type or another, young, and seemed honestly excited to have a shrunken man in her custody. She rattled off a quick sentence in whatever the hell language she spoke; Erik couldn't understand a word of it; and then she made her message more clear by using his tiny body as a prop.

His vision spun, and he was faced with a view of the floor the giantess stood on. Polished concrete, just like he thought he had heard her shoes squeaking on. But what she wanted him to see became clear when she pulled open the elastic waistband of her pants. Beneath that layer of fabric was a dark, shadowy pit of flesh and cloth, unevenly shaven pubic hairs framing one side of a juncture where her clothes met her skin.

"Something something something something, yes?" the giantess asked. Erik had no idea what she was saying, but he heard the upward inflection, and he wasn't so dumb that he couldn't at least figure out the last word from context. Maybe it was "no," but it sounded more like a rhetorical "yes."

Rhetorical either way. The giantess let go of her waistband, and Erik's view of her crotch disappeared. The giantess wasn't done teasing him, though, whether or not he understood what she was saying. She held him out at arms length and waggled him back and forth a few times, "Something something something..."

The inflection of this sounded like a warning. He tried to piece together what the hell she was saying from what she was doing, but nothing came to him. She was toying with him, that's all he knew, and it was appropriate, since she apparently thought that he was her toy.

She giggled quietly to herself, confirming that it was some sort of weird, fetishized warning. And then, suddenly, there was a sound from somewhere else, a banging, followed by a clamor of voices, that echoed incoherently through the space that they were in. The giantess twisted her head in the direction of the noise, then drew Erik close to her massive face.

"Something something," she whispered. At this range, her lips were a whirlwind of pure chaos. God, he wished he even knew what language she was speaking. "Something something something something."

After delivering that mysterious message, she lowered him down, down, down to the floor. Or... no. Down to her shoe. She threaded him, head first, through the loose shoelaces atop the pristine white tennis shoe on her right foot. The rubber at his back smelled surprisingly fresh. These were new shoes, maybe so new that the giantess had bought them during this mysterious outing he had been a passenger for.

But while he was pondering at what point along his journey it seemed like he had been inside a shoe store, the giantess wrapped the two loose ends of her shoelaces around her fingers, and yanked them tight. The lacing that, a moment ago, hung gently over him like a tunnel of vines, slapped downwards, constricting his entire body from the neck down. The moment the pressure came, his body panicked, but while he wanted to thrash and flail his way to freedom, the shoelaces, wider than his neck, were a surprisingly effective straitjacket for his tiny body. He couldn't lift his arms or spread his legs, he couldn't gain an inch of purchase against his new prison.

"Fuck!" he yelled. He knew that nobody could hear him at this size, but he had to let out his frustration. These were fucking shoelaces, for fuck's sake, but they held him hostage like steel handcuffs.

Above him, the giantess' fingers worked deftly at the loose ends of the laces, tying them into a familiar knot. From his minuscule perspective, the action was massive, rapid, and terrifying, an inscrutable ritual that demonstrated the absolute power that this massive woman had over him. Then, once the knot was tied to her apparent satisfaction, she tucked it away underneath the tongue of her shoe.

She stood up, finally allowing Erik to see more of her than her round, brown-eyed face. But, from this point of view, he didn't get any more context about what the hell she looked like than when she had teased him with the view down the front of her underwear. But he could see that she was wearing a mid-thigh length, dark blue athletic skirt, complete with built-in compression shorts to prevent any embarrassing exposure in case the hem came up. Above it, as far as he could tell, was a sports jersey cut into something like a crop top, mostly white, with symbols and lettering that he couldn't make out from his position.

Only one kind of person in the world dressed like that, in a place like this. His new giantess was a cheerleader.

It was a good view, though. He got an amazing look up smooth, slender legs that seemed to carry upwards to infinity, with only a few inches of spandex blocking him from seeing that divine junction between her legs. Even so, he had a unique view underneath that athletic skirt she was wearing, and the shorts underneath were so tight that there was very little left to the imagination.

That tiny space between the tops of her thighs, covered by the blue spandex of the compression shorts underneath the skirt, and wrinkling in... very interesting ways whenever she shifted her hips... Well, he was already shrunken... Why shouldn't he be there, instead of down here on her shoe?

Well, she had already teased him with the view down the front of her panties, maybe he would have his chance soon after all.

The clamor of voices, and the squeaking of rubber shoes against polished concrete, drew closer and closer, turning quickly into a deafening cacophony. The giantess shifted her weight and her foot around enough that Erik could tell that he was in a locker room, benches and lockers as far as he could see in any direction, but the ceiling was unbelievably high. Fluorescent lights dangled down on steel cabled more than twenty feet, and were still far out of reach, even if a full-size person had been standing on top of the lockers. It was such a cavernous space that he had to wonder what else it was being used for.

The crowd of other voices turned quickly into other people, and he quickly noticed that, not only were they all women, but they all looked kind of the same. They all had the same clothes, they all had the same build, and they all seemed to be the same race.

Fuck, this was an entire cheerleading squad.

Erik felt a sudden stirring between his legs. He may have been trapped underneath the shoelaces of a single giantess who didn't know or care who he was, but this was a cheerleading squad, and he had been shrunken by an app explicitly designed to use size for sex. This was every man's dream. Beautiful women in every direction, and any one of them could just pluck him up and... have her way with him.

God, he would love that. He could imagine himself as a sex toy passed around by these women, used relentlessly to satisfy the desires of a dozen athletic, horny women. He could be a dildo for those women who wanted penetration, or a vibrator in the panties of those girls who only enjoyed clit stimulation. Just passed from one beautiful lady to another. It was exactly what he would have dreamed of when he had first set up his account on Syze.

But it was a fantasy. Even if the libidos of a cheerleading squad perfectly aligned as to turn into an all-day sexual marathon, he knew that he would never use someone else's sex toy. And that was exactly how Syze worked, too. There was no 'party mode,' his size, and all the other goodies that came with the app, were controlled by one phone, by one person, and he was tied to her shoe.

But he had to admit that he had a hell of a place to be. There were seven or eight women milling around each other, chatting happily in their strange foreign language, and Erik had a straight view up every single one of their skirts. Of course, they were all wearing the same uniform, and that uniform had compression shorts underneath the hem of their skirt to keep things from getting inappropriate in public, but, like the woman whose shoe he was riding on at that moment, being offered this unlimited, almost voyeuristic view from underneath was intensely arousing.

One voice cut above the rest, and he only realized that it came from his own giantess when the rest of them turned around to look at her. He let his gaze drift to her as well, although he couldn't see her face past the view he had up her skirt, and couldn't understand a word she was saying. It sounded excited, though.

Her foot, the foot he was mounted to, surged up and she planted it on one of the benches. He saw her gesturing downwards, and then her face appeared over her breasts, as bright and cheery as it had been when he had first been introduced to her. She waved in the same way, and all of the other women, in unison as if it had been rehearsed, looked down as well. The faces were all pretty similar; whatever country Erik was in, he wasn't very good at telling its people apart; and they all reacted more or less the same way. All excited smiles and waving, a few repeating a strange foreign mantra... maybe 'hello?'

It was not the reaction that a man would expect if he had been discovered spying on a woman's locker room. It was not the reaction Erik would have expected if he had been revealed as a woman's shrunken sex slave to a room full of strangers. Still feeling a bit voyeuristic, his first reaction was to shrink back from the attention, as if that meant anything when straitjacketed by shoelaces as thick around as his arms and placed on open display by the woman who had put him there.

But he realized, once he got through that initial spike of fear and embarrassment, that these women were expecting him, or at least not surprised by him. The idea that their teammate on the squad had picked up a tiny man as an ornament for her shoe was the most normal thing the world for them.

That boded poorly. And Erik's fears were confirmed when one of the women leaned forwards and fished a necklace out of the depths of her jersey. She brought her head down just far enough that the ring at the bottom of the necklace could dangle within Erik's view. It swayed back and forth wildly, and fell just barely still enough that Erik could see the ornament inside it before the giantess snapped it back. Trapped in the ring, arms and legs spread wide like the Vitruvian Man, was a tiny man, bare naked, rail-thin and pale-skinned, with a thick mop of black hair on his head and a shock of black pubic hair between his legs.

Oh shit.

A second woman shoved a key-chain into his face, each key rivaling him in size. Dangling from the key-ring, though, was an ornament made out of another shrinkee. A black woman, bare naked, who was more than twice his size, bound up in a thin silicone rope. No... not bound up. The rope itself went down her throat, forcing her mouth open wide, and filled her swollen belly until it came out of her ass. What was left was used to smartly tie her ankles to her legs to force her into a kneeling position. She was fully penetrated by the cord, and the giantess demonstrated it by pinching both ends between her fingers and giving it a little tug.

Oh fuck.

That poor woman, reduced to a key-chain ornament in the most humiliating way possible. Was she even alive?

She was snatched out of his view before he could figure out the answer to that question. He realized, though, with a sudden sense of fear that felt like a lead ball in his stomach, that she probably was. A corpse wouldn't last long as a necklace, or as a key-chain run through with God knew how much silicone cord. These women wanted a live shrinkee, a living piece of property, a real human being whose existence they coud use and abuse as they saw fit.

He looked back at the woman who fancied herself his owner now, still smiling down at him. Her face was still all cheer, no malice, but he couldn't help but see, behind that smile, the same cruelty and hunger that had turned those two strangers into ornaments.

The other women quickly lost interest and went back to whatever they were doing, and even his own giantess stopped waving and brought her foot back down to floor level. She carried back on getting ready for whatever performance she was about to give, and, despite the fact that he was once again given the view of the century at her tight little body underneath the skirt, the dread that had settled in his gut kept him from enjoying it at all.

He could hold out hope for a rescue, but, in the meantime, the giantess had total control over his body, and all her closest friends apparently spent all their time brainstorming inventive ways to extract torture their shrunken toys. And now she had a shrinkee to call her own, a shiny new toy that she could try out all her fantasies on, as soon as possible.

A new toy. Him. Erick. What on earth did this woman have in store for him?