Living Hell (+alt) (Patreon)

“Lookie, lookie!” Opal said, gesturing to a tiny, frail looking student sitting atop a cluttered desk. She was trying her best to pretend as if she knew they weren’t talking about her. They very obviously were.

“Tiny lil’ bug-girl,” Justin, a friend of Opal’s, joined in.

It wasn’t exactly an incorrect insult. Nailah was a diminished person, shrinking just a year previous. Being the only shrunken student in her class, life at school was not easy. It was no secret the abuses, injustices, and prejudices diminished people faced. As if shrinking to two inches wasn’t terrible enough, the stomping, eating, enslavement, and killing of shrunken humans en masse made life as a ‘tiny,’ or ‘mant,’ a living hell. And to an eighteen year old with her whole life ahead of her? To shrink? It felt like a death sentence.

“Do a little dance for us, Nailah,” Opal said, standing to her feet.

Nailah began quickly gathering her things into her tiny backpack, hurrying to a desk lift, a small elevator made for diminished to ascend and descend high spaces.

Stepping menacingly into the view behind the lift, were two giant thighs, covered in white denim. Looming overhead was Opal, a giantess whose bullying of Nailah had been increasingly severe as the week went on. Justin, someone Opal was always with, stood behind her, struggling not to smirk.

The giantess dropped a finger onto the wooden surface, blocking her path.

“Hey,” she said, her voice commanding the attention of the room. “Dance for us,”

“Can we, n-not do this, please?” Nailah stuttered, “I just need to, to go—”

“Phtew,” Justin spat on the desk in front of her, a frightened expression staring back at her in the saliva’s reflection.

“Wha—”

Opal swiped Nailah with a fingertip down, falling headfirst into the pool of spit. The two giants burst into laughter. Justin placed a finger onto the tiny’s head, making sure to soak her face.

“Y’Gonna dance for us now?” Opal asked.

“C’mon you little fuckin’ bitch, dance!”

“Hey!” A voice called. It was Mrs. Dawson, the class’s preppy, overly nice teacher. “Now that’s enough with that mouth!”

“I didn’t say anything!” Justin pleaded.

The giant, middle-aged woman approached the desk. She looked down at Nailah, who had stood pathetically to her feet. She gave her a look that said, ‘Please help me.’

“We were just playin’ around, let’s go Nailah!” Opal said, reaching forward to grab her.

“W-Wait, no!” Nailah shouted, “Let me go, I don’t give you permission to pick me up, put me down!”

Opal, pulling the tiny by her forearm, carried the mant through the air, soaring directly to her mouth. Her thin, lipstick painted lips separated giving way to a hungry mouth. Strings of wet saliva connected the roof of the mouth with the soft, plush tongue dripping with Opal’s spit.

“NO, MRS. DAWSON, PLEASE HELP!” Nailah screeched. Mrs. Dawson didn’t act fast enough.

“Awm,” the sound of Opal sticking the tiny student in her mouth was all the poor mant could hear. The air was humid and hot, like a wet oven. Opal, savoring the taste of her victim, began rolling her around inside. Her tongue assaulted Nailah like waves crashing into a pier.

“Opal!” Mrs. Dawson scolded, “Spit her out.”

“She wets me dou thish!” She babbled, mouthful of Nailah.

“W-What?” Mrs. Dawson asked.

Opal quickly rolled her eyes and pulled Nailah from her mouth for a moment. “She lets me do this! She likes it!”

Nailah, soaking wet with Opal’s saliva dripping from her lips, could barely protest before being shoved back into the bully’s mouth.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Mrs. Dawson raised her hand in front of Opal, palm outstretched. “Spit her out.”

“Fiwne,” She conceded, rapidly moving her tongue around sucking every little bit of flavor she could before releasing her.

She leaned forward, pushing her hair to the side away from her face, and slowly released Nailah; her body gently sliding out from the giant’s lips and into her teacher’s palm.

Nailah looked up. Mrs. Dawson had a look of disgust on her face, likely from holding a spit covered mant.

“Okay, get out of here,” Mrs. Dawson said, “Don’t let me catch you doing this again, okay?”

After the shellshock of nearly being eaten by another person wore off, something else struck Nailah. Mrs. Dawson, while annoyed in tone, simply let Opal and Justin off with a… warning? But, she was almost eaten? Sucked on like a piece of candy? She’d never felt so dehumanized… and it was something the faculty just gave warnings about?

Nailah peeked through inbetween the teacher’s fingers to watch Opal and Justin walk off, starting a casual conversation as if she wasn’t almost murdered by them.

“You’re coming with me,” Mrs. Dawson finally spoke, demeanor changing.

“Can I just get a minute to—”

The giant gently clasped her hands together and rubbed, a lazy effort to wipe the student clean of saliva.

While being ‘cleaned,’ Nailah could tell Mrs. Dawson was walking somewhere. She’d give a polite ‘Hello,’ to fellow teachers and students in the hall. The whole time, Nailah was stuck in her hands.

“Okay, Ms. Nailah,” Mrs. Dawson said, finally lifting her other hand from the mant, “I need to talk to you about your behavior.”

Nailah was thrown off. “My behavior? What do you mean?”

“The other students,” she said. “They pick on you because of how you act.”

She was baffled that a teacher was talking to her like this. “What?” She exclaimed, “They were bullying me— No, they almost killed me!”

Mrs. Dawson shook her head, “Opal is a good girl. She gets good grades, gets along with everyone… You’re safe at this school.”

Nailah’s thoughts were total confusion. What did she ever do except show up to class, get work done quietly, and leave? Opal had bullied her before, was the school really not going to take any kind of action?

“You’re going to sit with me for the duration of lunch,” Mrs. Dawson began, “You’ll be free to go afterwards.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” She protested, but the giantess was ignoring her.

Mrs. Dawson grabbed hold of Nailah’s shirt collar and pulled upwards. She tried to struggle, but it was in vain against her massive fingers.

“Excuse me, you can’t do that!” Nailah yelled as the teacher continued to forcibly undress her.

First came off her shirt, then her pants, shoes…  Then bra and panties.

Nailah tried to curl up in a ball to cover herself, but she didn’t get too long before the giant teacher plucked her from her palm.

Still holding her tiny clothes in her hand, Nailah watched as the teacher popped her outfit into her mouth and swallow.

“Y-You’re crazy!”

Mrs. Dawson leaned down, dropping the naked Nailah on the shiny, cold floor. Next to her sat the giant’s two feet. Using her toes as an anchor, she popped each shoe off to reveal her bare, sweaty toes and soles. She placed her heels down first, her feet towering over the tiny girl. Slow enough to make Nailah watch, but fast enough to where she couldn’t get away in time, Mrs. Dawson lowered her feet until the balls of each foot hovering directly over her. They wiggled as if to taunt her, releasing hot air with each micromovement.

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO A STUDENT! I-I’LL GET YOU SUED! HAVE YOU ARRESTED!”

Mrs. Dawson slapped down her sole atop of the tiny mant, feeling every inch of her naked body beneath it. The little air Nailah was getting under there was thick with the warmth and odor from her teacher’s feet.

“Start licking my feet,” she commanded, “Don’t disobey me. You’ve misbehaved enough, today. Do I need to call your parents?”

Nailah tried to dare her to call them, but with a mouth full of foot flesh, she had little luck.

“This foot’s staying on top of you until I feel a tongue,” she said with a shrug. “It’s your choice, Nailah.”

Nailah began sobbing. Her life was hell, always existing at the whim of her bigger betters. Was licking this woman’s foot really the only way she’d be set free? She’d heard of other mant students being placed into the shoes of teachers, and even of other students… Would it happen to her?

Her fear reached a boiling point, and she began to lick. The taste was a mixture of a salty, dirty skin taste and shoe fabric. Nailah was so small that she could feel the micro-ridges of Mrs. Dawson’s foot on her tongue clearly.

Above, Mrs. Dawson let out a relieved sigh. Was this discipline, or was it simply a convenient way for her to get a massage?

For twenty grueling minutes, Nailah was passed between the teacher’s two feet. Her tongue covered as much as she could. Around her heels, up the arch of her foot, in between the toes… Mrs. Dawson was putting her through a foot gauntlet.

The bell rang, and Nailah could tell it startled the giantess. Her foot twitched, pressing firmly into the student’s face. She slid it to the side, the bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling nearly blinded Nailah.

“Okay,” Mrs. Dawson finally sighed, stuffing her feet back into her pink shoes. “You may go.”

“W-What?” Nailah said weakly, her throat hoarse and dry from expelling so much of her own spit. “I don’t… I don’t have clothes.”

Mrs. Dawson shrugged, “School policy obviously says students need to be wearing clothes, but it says nothing about mant dress code.”

“I am a student!” Nailah shouted, “I-I’m not going out there naked!”

“Human students need to be dressed, I should say.” She said with a fake smile. “Have a great rest of your day!”

Nailah watched the teacher’s massive footfalls grow farther away as she left the room. The door shut, and save for the muffled sounds of students being rowdy in the hallway, Nailah was left alone in the silence.