On Pointe (Chapter 5)

Though even more noticeable was the instantaneous quadrupling of that streaming stench’s unyielding sucker punch. Now with the two incubators of that smell not only positioned so much closer, but with the open hovels aimed directly for where the shrunken party stood on a highly-exposed rooftop, it felt like River’s micro-peers were caught in the eye of an odorous storm. What was already the tangiest slimiest most-potent single sniff of their lives had again been usurped by a huge margin. Though it was technically the same baking underfoot perfume now curdling the whole of the city and her fellow dancers’ airways alike, having those shoes cornered so close around their toy haven like kaiju-esque predators brought out all manner of newly-detectable flavor dimensions, in addition to upping the sheer muscle of River’s godlike raunch. The shrunken actresses, still somehow doing their best to play the part of grateful devotees, wallowed in the unleashed waves of rugged earthy bitterness and cheesily rotten scourge. Even though River was no longer wearing her actual ballet shoes, there was an unmissable stink imprinted into her flats, as well as her feet themselves, of leathery disintegration and reheated spattered-in sweat that had percolated so long in those shoes that it bordered on alcoholic. Every meager breath the miniaturized group tasted like the air itself was made exclusively from infinite drops of cloudy juice wrung from the giantess’s worn insoles like decimated sponges.

And all this was before River even applied the final element of the hotboxing hell she’d been instructed by Emilia to create, though naturally the other three weren’t told until it was far too late to do anything but bask in the smelly madness. Still conscientiously, though even less obvious about it now, the ultra-colossal brunette raised her right foot steadily overhead of the entire city, keeping it several inches above the skyscrapers. Yet that was more than close enough to ensure that her shrunken peers could now see nothing above but a wrinkly effort-puffed peachy-reddish sky of sumptuously meaty sole. Not only that, but the relative narrowness of the city’s footprint meant that River was able to touch the edges of her foot upon the capsized vessels of her flats, forming an expansive town-eclipsing roof out of her own arch length. At last the makeshift structure built from the giantess’s shoes and sole was complete, just as Emilia had planned, and the foursome were plunged into a vigorous spiral of maximum saltwater-drenched fetor. The climate jumped to an even more scorching extreme, as River’s naked foot acted like a local sun radiating over everything below. What little tainted oxygen the group could still gasp was fully soiled now, as a now-palpable pea-soup sweat fog drifted like dry ice over the rooftops.

Naomi, Jade, and Melanie did their miraculous best to stuff down their horror and disgust, simply because they’d invested this much dignity already and to quit now would make it all a waste, but it was getting more difficult with every passing second. And though they believed Emilia when she swore to the PMRD’s essential invulnerability-granting, they all felt just enough respectful dread of their sky-high fellow dancer that none of them could quite summon the courage to say screw it and drop out of character. As if the story had become real, and displeasing River now with anything except total unflinching devotion would result in their demises as the giantess’s burly sole came barreling toward the earth, scrunching her mountainous toes and burying buildings into soggy sole ravines. So they acted out this fetishistic insanity with almost as much passion as they put into their daily ballet, all while a stagnant tornado of the giantess’s brackish flat-boiled malodor held the whole model city – and its four micro inhabitants, by extension – in its sticky nostril-singeing grip.

“See? Didn’t I tell you? What could such little nothings like you ever do to honor someone like ME? You’re not even worth my time. All I’d have to do is step down, squish you all into dirt, and there’d be nothing left of you except the crud stuck to the bottom of my foot that gets washed down the shower drain. Well, don’t stop now. WORSHIP YOUR GODDESS!” River bellowed.

Her foot tipped suddenly back and forth, almost threatening to push her sideways-pitched flats onto the city. And while that didn’t come to pass, it was plenty to stir up the humidly entrapped atmosphere she’d created for her shrunken worshippers, making it impossible to adjust to the stench. Worse, as River’s foot rocked side-to-side, just enough pressure was plied upon her pruny flesh to visibly expel growing globs of glistening sweat from her pores. These drops, though so small that the giantess couldn’t even feel them dripping free, began to rain down from her sole-sky, splashing down over buildings in the distance and glossing that pestilential stink all the way down to the streets below. Frothy streams of grayish athletic brine formed in the roads, toppling lampposts and washing model cars onto the sidewalks. By chance, only a single sweat bead plunked onto the roof where the shrunken group was filming. They saw it coming from above, fattening and hanging from the squishy crags of River’s arch sole creases like nectar about to leak from plump fruit.

Yet the micro dancers could do little more than crawl out of the way and shield their faces as the stewy payload burst upon the surface and drenched them all like a weather balloon full of gunky perspiration had just been overfilled to the point of combustion. Now coated in a more-tangible sample of the giantess’s oozy liquid undersole runoff, as well as ensconced in that putrid glottal salt-ingrained squalor which seemed to be permanently staining the whole city, the tiny actresses did their best to keep up their performances. Though a great deal of authenticity crept into their behaviors anyway as they squealed and sputtered and hacked relentlessly for fresh air that wasn’t going to arrive anytime soon. Even Emilia struggled now to keep her composure, doing everything in her power to remain steady and stifle her gags, and mostly succeeded, for the sake of the video. She was especially glad now that she’d made a point of waterproofing the camera. Still coughing and near-weeping from disgust – while River’s exploded foot sweat seeped into their clothes, hair, and eyes – the three troopers nonetheless fought to carry on, just praying that they’d nearly captured enough depraved footage by now, as they cried:

“You’re right, Goddess! We’re n-not worthy!”

“Please, Goddess, don’t crush us! W-We only want to serve you!”

“We’ll serve you f-forever!”

“Your feet s-smell more delicious than anything in the whole world!”

“They’re the most beautiful feet I’ve ever seen!”

“And your sweat is a b-blessing to us all! Please, we beg you, g-give us more!”

At once, River’s foot nudged hard to the sides, causing both her shoes to fall soles-down again with a bracing clatter. While it looked for a second like she was taking apart the sweaty underfoot hotbox she’d constructed for them, much to the three not-quite-willing participants’ hesitant relief, it turned out the giantess was only making more room for her foot to descend even lower. Deeper and deeper her sole descended, as if the sky was literally falling, until the highest buildings came into contact with her hot creasy-flushed skin like bendable blades of grass about to be treaded in a field. Naomi, Melanie, and Jade all let loose screams that could’ve easily been from elation as well as terror, which in Emilia’s opinion made for the perfect suspenseful closing shot of their little magnum opus.

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THE END (for now)