Dinner for One (Chapter 5)

Cody heard Bri murmuring above, and watched as the calf she’d just had propped across her knee suddenly began to slide back, while her colossal waggly-toed foot isle stretched out into thin air, no longer supported by her dance-toned pillar of a giant leg. And then it started to come down toward him. He gazed up in horror to find the sky almost-literally falling. Only instead of a serene blue cloudscape, it was a grungy meaty pith-lined surface area of pure seemingly-endless feminine underfoot mass, all rushing straight toward him without so much as a conscious thought by said foot’s towering owner.

Of course Cody did his best to run, powering toward the closest edge of the growing shadow with all his reserve energy, but knew in his heart that he might as well have immediately laid down in surrender, for all the difference it made. One defeating split-second later, Cody was reburied under the carelessly leaden WHUUUMP of Bri’s brutally unclean foot, only now he had a taste of the other side. Unsurprisingly, it was every bit as taxing as her opposite foot, especially when the giantess was evidently switching which leg she had crossed, which meant that her micro-victim was now made to tank the broiling sole-gluing air-tight mass of a foot which had no obvious intention of moving again anytime soon. Unable to see, hear, or even feel much as his body began to numb from the pressure, Cody grimaced meekly in frustration while splayed out like a squashed insect and tried for as long as he could to ignore his still-grumbling stomach. When he could handle it no longer, he sighed using what little air he had available, then resumed dragging his tongue along another sole groove within the hyper-constricted space they were forced to share. Chewing on a soggy lint-jam lump that felt like a massive seaweed cluster and tasted just as briny as one, he wondered how tonight might’ve gone differently if his luck was even a little better, and wistfully counted down the seconds until Bri would finally step off him once more.

When the girl did at last relent some of that continuous planetary-flattening pressure she was naïvely applying through her sole in order to stand up and walk, Cody no longer felt he even had the right to be surprised when his body again went right along with her as if he’d been tattooed in place there again. Just like that, it seemed his next-best window of opportunity to flee had closed, pathetically thwarted and completely dominated with the simplest swapping of cross-legged postures by Bri. And if only he’d known what was about to happen next, he’d have cursed himself even more furiously for blowing that single chance. Once more made a speck-sized prisoner upon the capacious traveling penitentiary of Bri’s school-dirtied sole underbelly, Cody had resigned himself to another seasick pummeling while she wandered yet again around the house, and decided he’d just have to be much quicker the next time she came to a standstill with one foot lofted. When that time finally came again, though, he was only able to wriggle his arms free from the creamy perspiration-spackled ceiling of arch bulk before freezing up in blood-chilling recognition of the fact that the giantess wasn’t sitting down and crossing her legs. She was raising her bare foot, with her toes pointed down in unison and her sole curve flexed to its creasiest extreme, above the black leather mouths of her dance shoes.

In the heartbeat of time between Bri’s foot diving toward its corresponding vessel, Cody emergently flailed to wrench himself free from her body with everything he had, only hoping to plop somewhere beside the shoes instead of becoming trapped within. It was just by the frantic swinging of his arm, however, that the micro-shrinker became aware that all those countless load-bearing stamps from his unknowing captor’s naked sole had damaged the transmogrifier bracelet’s clasp just enough that when he moved, the device tumbled free from his arm and then fell so far toward the mile-distant floor that he couldn’t even tell where it landed, let alone dream of retrieving it now. The exponentially-worse circumstances he’d just been thrust into, officially with no way to return himself to size post-recharge, dawned on him so gut-wrenchingly that he couldn’t even muster a sound in crestfallen dread. And only then, as Cody was involuntarily sprung southward and violently submerged through the footwear’s opening while still stuck to her sole (minus his life-saving gadget), did he vaguely recall that tonight was Bri’s weekly evening dance practice.

Far too late to put that information to any good use, his world turned pitch-dark, supremely musky, and suffocatingly claustrophobic as her foot wiggled mercilessly into place, still with her granular victim caught somewhere in the landscape of sole now imprinted heavily down upon the tattered inlay. Everything was going to shit so quickly here that Cody could barely even process the true depth of how screwed he was – especially once his senses were violently preoccupied again with the heaving cinching leather-entombed frenzy of being worn in a shoe while smaller than most of the jellied toejam morsels globbed on the walls and upon the giantess’s skin, as she secured the opposite shoe and then began to walk. He’d thought things were bad enough when he was being stepped on barefoot by Bri, but it turned out he’d been taking a few comparative blessings for granted back then: namely the fact that he’d still been able to grab gulps of air, light, and unpressurized reprieve whenever her foot wasn’t touching the ground. Now, though, with her shoe’s vacancy tightly filled in and then laced even snugger so she wouldn’t slip on the dance floor later, it felt like the Earth itself was following the giantess’s every move, keeping Cody ruthlessly sandwiched at all times between those boundless opposing surfaces of a hard impression-concave basin and Bri’s own plush-yet-heartily-firm runway of athletically beefy sole span.

Abruptly then, she was off, headed out the door and hopping in the car to drive herself to what promised to be an exertive high-energy activity for her leather-cooped bare feet to show what they were made of, no matter how much heat and sweat and stink were created therein. Though the circumstances were dire, Cody did his best not to have a breakdown, and just focused on the precious-few things he could still plan for and control. Even if he had the ability to climb out from under Bri’s ponderous sole and clamber toward the light high above, which would be an impossible feat of mountaineering in itself, it would essentially be suicide to escape her shoe now that she’d left the house, since he could no longer alter his size on a whim. As small as he was, it would be like stranding himself on another planet with no rocket home. The device had landed somewhere near the door where all the shoes were stored, which meant his only shot at rescue was to wait out Bri’s practice, then jump off her foot right as it pulled out of the shoe afterward, and search for the transmogrifier. Assuming it wasn’t destroyed by the fall. He could do this, Cody told himself. He’d already stomached every flavor of dingy saltwater-pickled lint from between the familial giantesses’ toes, and suffered Bri’s gigantic footsteps unwittingly compounding him like a lost molecule of raw hamburger on a barbaric loop, but was still alive and kicking. How much worse could one more hour be than what he’d already faced?

As it turned out, “significantly worse” was the answer.

When Cody first snuck into Bri’s room to poach some of the sloppy freshly-produced filth off her ripe after-class feet, they were certainly unkempt, ruddied, and flecked all over with gooey detritus from her socks, shoes, and calcified sweat, but they weren’t heinous, either, all things considered. It wasn’t like she’d run a damn marathon in those shoes. Just attended a day of school. Cody had tasted far nastier strains of vinegary pungency those times before when he’d been forced to claim his warped diet from Kayla’s gym-rat soles, which meant that Bri’s peds were almost clean and flowery by comparison. At least that was true until that moment earlier when he panic-shrunk himself down to such an inconsequential level that his body was mistaken for toejam crumbs and light enough to be kidnapped by a single smushing footprint, and then that moderately balmy rankness to the girl’s feet was amplified to new revolting sense-clobbering heights.

Yet still, even then, Cody was grossly unprepared for the onslaught which awaited him at Bri’s dance practice. The first hurdle was the dramatic difference between being pinned inside the giantess’s shoe while she walked around at a leisurely carefree gravity-guided pace. Once the music, muffled but audible to Cody through the shoe, began to play in the background, every move that Bri’s foot made was charged with rhythmic purpose. She almost never let her sole just fall back to Earth, but kept it in constant motion, with the finely-developed musculature beneath that puffy edifice of sole divots not only flexing and rippling in overdrive to help her deliver the best performance, but ceaselessly driving toward another destination, tapping and hopping and sliding off the ground with a rambunctious bone-wracking clap-SLAM each and every time.