Goddess: Book 1, Chapter 9 (Patreon)

He awoke at the rumble of heavy, lumbering footsteps. At this size, and due to his extended stay within Amelia’s sandal, he had gotten rather familiar with the cadence of the woman’s steps, to such a degree that he knew that this new set of footsteps he knew not to be hers. Sitting up and still aboard the slightly crumpled napkin from earlier, he pulled himself to a higher fold, and turned toward the door. Making her way inside was Rachel, that vindictive nerd-girl that had gotten him into this whole mess. Well, she didn’t shrink him, he didn’t assume, or she probably would have been more intentional about tormenting him. Either way, it was her apartment, she was responsible for what happened to people while they were here...right?

“HEY! Hey, you giant freak! I’m down here!” His tone immediately shifted to one with a substantially increased amount of vitriol, all of his anger and lust for revenge aimed at the giantess who might as well have just come down from Mount Olympus itself. He waved around the one arm he had that wasn’t attached to an injured shoulder, while pulling himself up to higher and higher ground. Rachel was moving closer, and her books were still on the table from earlier. Eventually she would have to look down and see them, and maybe she would see him too.

***

Amelia stepped out from the kitchen just as Rachel got home, barely missing the rain. With a sad smile on her face, she held a mug of piping hot coffee, offering it to her frustrated roommate.

“Here’s your coffee...you doing okay?” Amelia said, trying to initiate a meaningful conversation.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just annoyed. It’s not even noon yet and today has been pretty shitty.” Rachel answered as she peeled off her sneakers again.

“Well...if you’d like, I was thinking about inviting some of the other girls over and just having a girl’s night in...maybe that would make you feel better?”

“...Oh, maybe…” Rachel perked up, finally accepting the coffee her roommate had offered. She immediately took a sip. “Mm...thank you.” With a sigh, she settled onto the couch. “Who were you thinking?”

“I dunno, Kristin? Liz?” Amelia considered, reaching down to clean up her plate from breakfast.

“Not Kate.” Rachel responded firmly, pointing at Amelia as she took another sip of coffee.

“No, not Kate…” Amelia agreed, as she grabbed the napkin and crumpled it into a firm ball, then began to carry her plate toward the kitchen. Rachel sat up, noticing an untouched piece of toast, slathered in fresh avocado on Amelia’s plate.

“Hey, you’re not gonna throw away that away are you?”

“Yeah, I got full pretty quick, do you want it?”

“Yeah I do!” Rachel grinned, standing up and grabbing the avocado toast, taking a quick bite. “Thanks, girl.” She said, mouth partially full. Amelia nodded, glad to see even a small smile on Rachel’s face.

“Sure. I’m gonna get things ready for tonight.” Amelia responded, disappearing into the kitchen. Rachel pulled her socked feet up onto the couch and tried to relax. Saturday wasn’t ruined yet, despite Andrew and the weather conspiring to do just that. She would have a great day in spite of both of them. A quick swallow and a sip of coffee later, she took another big bite of her toast.

***

Andrew only became more enraged as Rachel moved right past him, without so much as a glance. He continued to hurl profanities at the clueless college girl as she meandered lazily by, taking a seat on the same couch that, not yet an hour ago, she’d flattened him under her ass with. Growling, and thinking of ways he could exact revenge on her when he got back to normal, Andrew should have noticed the shadow of Amelia’s hand coming from above. It wasn’t until her hand had surrounded the napkin that he was scaling that he realized that things were changing yet again.

Amelia’s hand clutched the napkin with such force and speed that he’d hardly been able to comprehend what happened. One moment, he was hatching a plan to fill her car with shaving cream and roaches, the next, he was airborne, hurtling through the sky with no sense of direction or ability to determine it. He had become used to this falling sensation, but previous attempts had much less momentum behind his x-axis movement. 

He landed with a disconcerting squelch, his entire being immediately sinking waist deep into something with the consistency of thick, chunky mud. His torso, face, and hands were covered in it, and he couldn’t even immediately open his eyes to discern what the substance was. Despite being unable to see what slimy world he’d been tossed into, he could smell and taste it. Avocado.

Panicking, Andrew began clawing at his eyes desperately, his one good arm tossing mushy avocado away from his face as quickly as he possibly could. It was slimy and thick, both difficult to get off, but difficult to grab ahold of. After several panicked seconds, he finally freed his eyes, and peered through the mess at a vast wasteland of green, slimy tundra. It stretched in nearly every direction for a mile, except behind him, only a quarter of that distance. The land was littered with similarly green and yellow hills  and uneven terrain, and emitted an earthy, familiar scent. It all came to him at once, he’d been thrown onto Amelia’s avocado toast.

The goddess herself loomed above, his few seconds of panic had been long enough for her to pick up the plate the toast was resting on. He could see her thumb, distant, beyond the toast, but behind him, within an attainable distance, if he could get through this terrible green spread. He had to act fast though, he would need to cover a lot of ground to…

There was an exchange between the girls above him. He, as usual struggle to discern the conversation, and realized he’d been ignoring it for at least the last several seconds. He looked upward, at Amelia, who was holding the plate, then toward Rachel, hand outstretched, fingers stretching to take hold of something. She was reaching for the plate...the plate holding the toast. The toast covered in avocado spread. The avocado spread that Andrew was stranded within.

“Amelia! No! Don’t let her take me!” He screamed up to his deity of choice, his heart sinking to his chest as he felt the exchange take place. “Don’t feed me to that bitch! I’d rather be eaten by you than that fucking nerd!” He pleaded and prayed, feeling his legs grow weary. Everything up to that point was trivial. Crushed under Rachel’s firm ass cheeks...that would have been an acceptable way to go. Smeared against her shorts...less acceptable, but still not unfavorable given the options. Even if he’d been stepped on by her, he’d have preferred that quick death. And of course, still, there was death by Amelia. Being gently crushed under her sole, or smothered between her toes were immensely better than any death Rachel would have caused. Hell, even being swallowed alive and sacrificed to Amelia’s belly, these were all highly preferable than this fate.

Rachel was his nemesis, his direct equal and polar opposite in so many ways. She was the epitome of what he refused to become, the antithesis of his entire being. Death at her hands, feet, or ass would have been a tragic poem. Unfortunate for him, but fair...she’d bested him. This, however, this was not only his loss, but in his death, he would be fueling her existence. His last moments would be the cavern of her mouth, or the pit of her belly. Both would mean being digested and served to her metabolism, enough energy for her to raise her hand and answer Professor G’s question with a cocky smirk, and nothing more. 

“NO!” He screamed adamantly, turning toward Rachel again, to find the situation was more dire than he realized. Instead of taking the entire plate, Rachel had only taken the toast from Amelia’s plate. The entire vessel was now settled in her palm, leaving no plate to escape onto, nowhere to hide. If she were to devour the entirety of the offering, she would devour him just as well.

Her fingers had settled around the edges of the toast, massive pillars that flexed and rotated the crunchy snack until it was supported from underneath, not unlike how Amelia had handled her tea cup. From here, Andrew could see the landscape clearly, her face in the far distance. He was on the far edge of the toast, angled toward her so that the corner was pointed toward her mouth. She wasn’t even going to give him the honor of making it quick, he was going to have to suffer through every bite.