Unwelcome (Patreon)

The worst possible thing to happen to a mant is to become  lost, far from home. As a human, you could take a bus back home. Look at  your phone, GPS your location… As a mant? You rely on your caretaker,  unless you're in a mant-designated area which are few and far inbetween.  This was the reality Jordan was now dealing with.

While  trying to reenter his Dad’s apartment, some giant hooligan plucked him  up and shoved him into his pocket. It happened so fast that Jordan could  barely tell what happened, let alone who his kidnapper was.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” He screamed and struggled, but there was no response.

He was being toted somewhere, that much he could tell.

Nearly  an hour passed and he was still in this mysterious stranger's pocket.  At this point, he’d gathered that the giant had hopped onto a bike. He  thought he was being taken to his captor’s home, but that was not  exactly what was happening.

The  giant came to an abrupt stop, lifting himself from his bike. Jordan  yelped at the sight of massive fingers sliding in and hoisting him from  the pocket.

It  was a younger guy, backwards cap. Seeing the mant’s fear must’ve made  him happy, as he was grinning ear to ear. Before saying anything, the  giant began ripping Jordan’s clothes from his body.

“Who the hell are you, freak?!” He screamed, but the giant didn’t respond.

After  stripping him naked, he tossed him into a nearby patch of grass, right  next to a neighborhood sidewalk. He walked away, giggling to himself.

Picking himself up from the dirt, Jordan wanted out as soon as possible, lest some bug or animal snatch him.

After  clearing the grass, he could see where he was. It was a neighborhood; a  suburb. Not one he recognized, however. It must’ve been just outside  the city as he wasn’t in the pocket long enough to have been that far. For a giant, at least. Rows and rows of similar looking houses, likely full of giants.

He looked around. Maybe there were other mants nearby?

He yelled out. No answer.

But it wasn’t peace and quiet. At least, not anymore.

A loud creaking noise came from the house nearest to him. Someone was coming out.

A  woman, looked a bit older, maybe forty-five, fifty, walked barefoot to a  mailbox at the end of her driveway. She didn’t look too scary, but as a  mant, you need to be wary of giants. You never know which ones hate you  just because of your height.

The giant did a  double take. She’d spotted Jordan. Whatever his plan might’ve been, he  had to deal with this new situation. She was quickly approaching.

Boom. Boom.

The  woman’s two giant feet planted themselves firm in front of him. Her  nails weren’t painted, but still looked well taken care of. His eyes  traveled up her legs, past her waist, and up to her face. She did not  look happy.

“What are you one of you little things doing here?” She asked, tapping her massive toes.

“I was, uh, I was kidnapped-”

“I  can’t believe this. This is a nice neighborhood, we don’t need little  rats running around like you. God above knows what kinda trouble you  lil’ demonspawn can cause.” Her stern, southern voice alarmed the mant  to his core.

“I-I’ll leave, I’ll go-”

The  giant raised her foot up, revealing the ever so slightly dirty sole. As  the foot descended closer, the intense, sweat-filled smell invaded his  nostril. A drip of sweat even plummeted from her footskin, smacking him  in the face.

“What’re you doing, why’re you-” He protested, but to no avail.

The  foot pushed him into the concrete, but not with enough pressure to  crush him. She simply wanted to pin him under her mature sole. As much  as he wiggled and moved, the foot was not wavering.

“It’s my God given duty to exact his mercy. This is exactly where you belong.” He heard the giant say.

There was nothing he could do, he was to be under this woman’s foot for as long as she pleased.

“Think,” he thought to himself. “What do I do? I don’t want to die,”

An  humiliating idea popped into his mind. He’d heard stories, and  overheard giants talking… They get mant slaves to lick the feet of their  masters. It was how they exercised power over their pets, as well as  getting a massage and pampering in the process. Maybe…

He  stuck his tongue out and shoved it into her foot flesh. Immediately he  could taste the sour skin that oppressed him. Tears dropped from his  eyes. He licked again, his mouth filling up with sweat droplets and the  tiniest flakes of skin.

Even still, the giant was not lifting her sole.

He  licked again. And again. And again. And again. Over and over he licked  until his tongue was running dry, his face covered in his own spit.

Finally, she lifted her foot. There he lay, crying and shaking in fear on the ground beneath her.

Even though his vision was blurred from tears, he could see the woman shaking her head above him.

She crouched down and picked him up. Looking him in the eyes, she uttered one phrase. “I will pray for your soul.”

Her  maw opened wide. Just past her perfect, white teeth was a giant, wet,  and hungry tongue. This was it. This woman was about to eat him.

“I’m begging you, please, I’ll leave,” He pleaded, but it was too late.

Awm.

Into her mouth she went, her tongue assaulting his body and sucking him to the back of her throat. And then…

Gulp.

He was gone. Down the woman’s throat. Before long, Jordan would be dead. Eaten alive by a complete stranger.

“If there are any more bugs in my yard,” she shouted. “You’d best get along before I find you.”

Before she could head back in, the man who kidnapped Jordan returned.

“Hey mom,” he said, nodding to the woman.

“When did you leave, AJ? I’ve been blowing up your phone for an hour!”

“I just…” He paused. “I just went out.”

“Get back in the house.”

He nodded before following his mother back into the house.