Dinner for One (Chapter 1)

Dizzy from hunger, his throat painfully parched, Cody stumbled over the vast carpeted landscape at scarcely an inch tall toward the hopefully-concealing shadows beneath Diane’s dining table. High above, the four blissfully unsuspecting giantesses happily feasted and joked amongst themselves, with the fifth seat (formerly his own) now vacant. If only he’d been able to realize his altered “dietary” requirements a few days sooner, Cody knew he might not have needed to resort to such desperate measures as this, where the chances of being caught were dangerously raised, but it wasn’t like he had better options. After losing that bet to Kayla and then spending a week getting grappled between her meaty tan toes practically nonstop, and finally returning to normal with thankfully no one else the wiser to his smelly disgrace, he’d been so busy trying to mend his psychological wounds, that he’d taken notice all too late that, even after returning to full stature, his playful tormentor had failed to reset his bodily processes to allow him to consume ordinary food and drink again, rather than an exclusive cuisine made of slimy sweat, earthy scuzz, and cakey toejam hunks.

            Unfortunately, with his tiny body on the verge of shutting down now if he didn’t feed it something useful and fast, Cody had no choice but to sneakily shrink himself – something he’d vowed just a week ago that he’d never allow again – and creep toward these colossal mighty-soled sources of the repugnant grime-glistening substances which alone could satiate him at this size. Making matters worse, Kayla hadn’t seen fit to make Cody’s tastes change along with his needs while he’d involuntarily served as her living foot ornament for a week; every bite of chewy grime was just as stomach-turningly over-salted and raunch-clotted, even as the debris both liquid and solid borne of all the giantesses’ feet was now the only thing standing between the shrunken victim and his own starvation.

            Standing in the center beneath the table, Cody revolved in paranoia to choose a destination, knowing all it might take to be humiliatingly discovered down here was one of the towering ladies to accidentally drop a utensil to the floor. He needed to act quickly, before he either passed out from thirst, or was caught and then faced with some incredibly uncomfortable questions about why he was snooping around by the feet of his now-gargantuan girlfriend and her family. Weak as he was becoming, Cody took one look at Diane’s petite but still-humongous bare peds half-nestled into her farm-worn blue Toms, and recognized that she was his best shot. Kayla, Ashley, and Bri, though each one appeared to have at least some leftover filth adorning their immense feet in the form of lint smudges and grass stains, paled in comparison to the family matriarch’s grunge status, which only made sense, after Diane had just spent most of the afternoon working outdoors in the summer-sticky humidity. Even with a healthy distance still separating him from the maternal blonde’s soiled soles, he could detect their sour dirt-smeared farmland stench, amplified by the same heat which left her shoe-swollen foot flesh so rosy and visibly damp still. Nauseating though it was to imagine eating such material, Cody didn’t know if he’d have the time or the energy to hobble elsewhere if the other girls’ toe-smut wasn’t enough to fill him up. So he limped reluctantly toward Diane’s monumental partially-shoed pair.

            Her toes were tucked deeply into both the canvas vessels of her weathered footwear, but her smooth heels spilled out well-past the smashed-down back lip of the shoe’s opening, the fabric permanently crumpled low from so many hastily improper applications. Standing more than close enough now that his every breath consisted only of Diane’s cloying hard-working odor, the inch-high Cody’s knees went pre-emptively weak, and he heard his stomach growl with ravenous urgency at the same moment it ironically twisted from lessened appetite due to disgust. Though her immense halfway-arched feet each created shade beneath their ripply-wrinkled underside slabs, it was simple enough when he stood at the back and stared into the squishy cavern to view his horrific buffet options.

Both giant Toms’ insoles were sunken and sodden a sickly gray from repeated perspiration collection over many months and years, and even seemed to be pooled in places into thin gluey puddles of sweat leftover from today that hadn’t yet managed to seep all the way into those warped cloth tongues of shoe flooring. Grains of dirt comparatively the size of tennis balls to Cody littered the interior as well, wet and unappetizing as unmixed clumps of coffee grounds left at the bottom of a mug, though of course he would’ve happily drunk a whole gallon of nothing but that, if only it would save him this current task. Finally, above was where Cody noticed the real treasure trove. With the peachy heat-billowing soles of Diane’s feet each raised by a sliver off the crusted basins of her Toms, the shrunken patron of this repellant meal could plainly see squalid gel-like clods of dark juicy shoe-jam peppering the abundant creases of the giantess’s naked arches, stuck there by gleaming layers of stewed sweat still basting her skin. Based upon his prior week at Kayla’s feet, although Cody knew these artifacts found on the insole could serve him in a pinch, far more sustaining (and in his near-comatose state of hunger, necessary) were those molded blobs of cottony fleshy saltwater-frosted detritus tacked directly onto Diane’s actual foot instead.

“Just get it over with. Just… do… it…” he silently commanded himself as an attempted pep talk while clambering miserably up and over the smushed rim of left-side Tom’s backend, though it did little to help his spirits. Cody covered his mouth to keep from coughing or retching aloud while trekking delicately across the moon-like quashiness of the soggy insole. Though he was pretty confident that, at his current size, he could start sneezing wildly and the titanesses on high would still miss his noise over their own booming chit-chat, he couldn’t take that chance. Especially because, bad as it would be to get caught here and have to reveal to one and all the mortifying embarrassments he’d endured under Kayla, it was also entirely possible to accidentally startle Diane, make her mistake him for a bug, and the grody mass of dimpled funk-steaming bare foot that was meant to feed him could in a single squishing collision end his life instead.

Even with both hands cupped over his nose and lips to help filter the aroma, Cody still felt his lungs straining against the loamy ripeness just as they had for that whole dream-like hellscape of a week miniaturized at Kayla’s mercy. The heat in this shoe was shockingly oven-esque, stagnant and misty, such that the shrinker could feel sweat on his puny body that belonged just as much to Diane as himself. Standing near enough now to where the burly ball of her foot was planted firmly into the depressed frontside of the insole flap, then, Cody could reach over his head and touch her sole. Biting his tongue both in pessimistic prayer and to keep himself from gagging, he shakily grasped for a toejam glob gummed into a pithy trench of sole divot and picked it free. It had the consistency of an apple half-rotted into sauce already, though that too would’ve been preferable to what he had to eat instead. Vinegary mush oozed hotly from it in his diminutive fingers, but just one close-up whiff of the loathsome festering chunk was enough to make his direly underserved stomach roil in pain, and so Cody remorsefully tucked the toejam ball in his mouth whole.