Bad Vibes (Patreon)

Mark was in a living hell. Here he was, standing on the coffee table of some random giant woman who’d plucked him from the street on his way to work. She looked like some twenty-first century hippie. But, he had no idea who she was.

He was not like other diminished. Sure, he’d suffered his fair share of prejudice, but the man was connected. Rich. The only reason he shrank is because some psycho ex-boyfriend of his withheld his amplidine from him for too long. But he had respect, mostly because of his money, but it was respect nonetheless.

While on his way to meet his driver, who was just down the street, the woman had walked over him, standing in his way.

“Get outta of the damn way!” He shouted up at the purple haired woman.

She shook her head and bent down, picking him up. He cursed and protested before getting quickly shoved in a purse. It smelled of a mixture of lavender, cigarettes, and weed. Just where was this woman taking him?

Shuffling around, he stumbled upon her driver’s license. Her name was Daniella, she was twenty-three years old. Five foot eight, though at Mark’s size she might as well be several stories tall.

He took out his tiny smartphone and attempted to call 911. Unfortunately, he had no service. He wasn’t sure if his mant-sized smartphone was just on the fritz, which they often were, or if there was no self service in her purse.

All he could do right now was wait. He’d call when he was free of the purse.

Mark was trapped inside the purse for hours. It seemed his captor was in no rush to mess with him. He continued to remind himself to just wait, stay calm, and wait.

Finally, the rumbling of the woman’s purse stopped. There were no muffled sounds of traffic, crowds, music, people talking… Perhaps she was home? The zipper that hung overhead began to slide backward, an ocean of light poured into Mark’s leather prison, blinding him.

When his eyes finally adjusted, a massive hand dug through the crevice of the purse and scooped him out.

“Oof!” He groaned as he was dropped onto a hard coffee table.

He looked up, and there was Daniella. She had a blunt in hand, a smug look on her face. It seemed she’d already made herself comfortable before releasing Mark.

“Who do you think  you are!” Mark began shouting, “You think you can kidnap me off the street? I’m not some everyday shortstack on the street you know! You’re gonna regret this, you sick freak!”

He dug in his pockets as he accosted her and pulled out his phone. He had service. All he had to do was dial 911, and even if she took the phone from him, they’d send somebody.

As fast as he could, he pulled up the call app and started to hit numbers.

“Yoink!” Daniella leaned forward and plucked the phone from his grip. He fell forward, hitting his knees against the wood. “Who’re you, like, calling? Can you even call somebody on this? It’s like a little toy for a doll.”

“You give that back Daniella!” He shouted.

Daniella raised a brow, a little confused. “Oh…” she said with a nod. “Saw my license did you? Well, like, I go by Danny.”

The giant took the minuscule phone and dropped it on her tongue like a pill. She promptly swallowed. Down her throat his phone went, and so too did his only real chance of escape.

“Y-You bitch!”

“Hey!” She scolded, “You need to, like, relax. Okay?”

“What do you want with me?!”

She shrugged. “I kinda, like, got some pretty bad vibes from you. Not like, the usual bad vibes I get from people. Nah, yours was different. I can’t really, like, explain it…? Buuut, I really feel this kind of energy from the universe that just kinda told me that I should take you.”

He blinked slowly, confused as to what she was saying. “W-What the fuck are you talking about?”

She snorted, taking a drag of her blunt. “I don’t, like, expect you to understand. Just know that the universe wants me to keep you as a pet.”

“A pet?! You can’t be fucking serious, I’m getting out of here—”

BOOM. BOOM.

What felt like an earthquake knocked Mark over. He looked up, the source of the quakes becoming clear. Danny had placed her two bare feet on the coffee table. They wiggled, as if to mock him. Mark quickly covered his nose. Her feet smelled like old, leather shoes and sweat.

“What the hell, don’t you ever wash yourself?!”

“Once every other day,” she said, taking another puff. “Y’know, like, people don’t have to shower as much as society tells you. Our bodies, like, can keep itself clean pretty naturally.”

“Get your feet away from me!” He shouted.

She burst out laughing, her toes scrunching in the process. “Dude, like, my feet’s the whole point. You're a foot pet now!”

Mark was becoming angry, and scared. “I’m a grown man, I own a goddamn business, who the fuck do you think—”

“Don’t care!” She interrupted, sliding her feet close to him. “Doesn’t matter, you’re a pet now. Start licking, squirt.”

It didn’t take long for Mark to be broken in.