Time-Out: Nancy's Way (Chapter 1) (Patreon)

“Scott, sweetie, I really don’t know why you’re making such a fuss about this. It’s only for three days, and then I promise, Mommy will come right back to get you,” Judy Stevens scoffed with a condescending coo and a maternal shake of the head, as if her legally-shrunken son was instead throwing some childish tantrum over eating his dinner vegetables, rather than being temporarily transferred into the assuredly-frightening custody of just about the last warden he could’ve ever wished for on Earth, which was in fact what was going to happen the next morning. “This trip has been in the planning for months. It might not be a long stay, but it’s vital to my campaign. If you’d bothered to pay more attention to the work I’ve been doing this year, maybe you’d have had more warning about this. And you know how the R&R provisions work. It was difficult enough just getting permission for the site of your… at-home rehabilitation… to be reassigned while I’m gone with Maggie and Kyle. My hands were tied.”

Bowed on the carpet under his towering mother’s desk at only three inches tall, Scott continued compliantly swabbing the senatorial-hopeful giantess’s pedicured toenails to a mirror-shine, even though every ounce of him wished to sprint screaming for the nearest mousehole and hide out there until it was too late for Judy to take him, no matter the consequences he faced later. Somehow it seemed unlikely, even if he’d believed wholeheartedly in his parent’s totalitarian platform of nationwide shrinking discipline, that he could’ve truly had any idea of whatever degrading horror Judy had plotted next for him, especially when his miniature vantage point was almost exclusively relegated to the floor on foot-tending duty, or even more restrictively, inside someone’s shoe. Having a set of colossal sweat-oiled feminine toes grappling with his body while confined to the stuffy darkness of a high heel tended to make it difficult to pay attention to the political discourse happening a comparative ten stories overhead. Though he could already tell it would be in vain, as the anxiety shivers began to take over the shrunken twenty-two-year-old’s frame, Scott knew he at least had to try and appeal Judy’s maddening decision.

“But… Mom… please,” he uttered in desperation. “It’s… Nancy.”

“Yes, I’m aware it’s Nancy,” Judy replied, unperturbed, as she carried on multitasking whatever work she was doing at her computer upon the translucent desk, while also periodically checking how her three-inch boy was handling her bare toes below. “As I told you, I’m aware that you two have had your differences. That she hasn’t always handled you in a way that you appreciated. That she may have even severely mistreated you. And I am sorry about that. But she’s practically family, Scott, and I don’t trust anyone else as much as her. I made sure to have a long talk with her, before transferring your custody to her for these three days, and she swore to me that she’s seen the error of her ways. She wants to make amends, and get along with you again, like you always did before.”

Lost for words, Scott had to shut his eyes, both to keep anticipatory tears from welling up and to prevent his pupils from visibly rolling all the way back into his skull in sarcastic disbelief. Considering Nancy’s repeated history of toe-molesting him inside her shoes while literally in the same room as Judy, plus that psychologically-damaging one-off occasion when she’d “used” his head for certain self-serving purposes in the family pool house, the little guy found it incredibly difficult to believe that it only took one conversation with her best friend to make the flirtatious age-defying cougar give up her overly-forward ways with the powerless shrunken house inmate. Especially when all she had to do to be given unrestricted access to him for three entire days – by far the longest Nancy had ever been allowed to caretake Scott, which in itself was terrifying – was promise Judy that she’d treat him extra nicely this time.

Naturally, a part of him wanted to believe her remorse was sincere, and that these three days would merely be a tedious-but-tolerable variation from the norm with his family, but he also knew he’d only be setting himself up for an even bigger letdown later if he fell into that hope. And really, even if they could turn back time and erase some of the woman’s more-selfish choices when it came to casually dominating her friend’s incriminated little offspring, it wasn’t like they’d ever “gotten along” before his extended time as a stature-changeable house servant. Nancy hadn’t just magically become a selfish teasing predatory man-eater the day Scott first shrunk; there was simply “more” of her now to go around, and absolutely no way to stop her from getting her way once she had him in her clutches.

“So, I’m sure I can count on you to be on your best behavior with Nancy. Can’t I?” Judy murmured, after a long enough silence from her near-crestfallen mini-son had passed. When this question didn’t earn an immediate answer, she chuckled under her breath, and then nudged all her toes forward just as Scott was robotically preparing to cotton-swab the next polished nail. In a flash, his three-inch body was halfway pinned beneath their meaty writhing heft. “Ahem. C’mon, now. Tell Mommy what she wants to hear.”

No matter how often the young man heard his parent refer to herself with this demeaningly childish third-person nickname, even in a sweetly mocking tone, it never gave him any less of a stomach pit. It seemed he really would always be the “little” boy in her eyes. At least he was about to get a three-day respite from his mother’s particular brand of hurtful condescension and firm-but-gentle underfoot mistreatment. Though he had a bad feeling that after just a few hours at Nancy’s house, he’d be yearning to be literally anywhere else in the world, including stuffed back inside Judy’s shoe and squashed stoutly under her beefy naked sole, if that was the cost of getting away from his new temporary keeper.

For one pessimistic moment, as he laid limp under his mother’s insistent toes and the ball of her foot pinned down upon his helpless frame, Scott considered his sorry potential last-ditch escape options, before it was too late and he was delivered to Nancy tomorrow. He could try to convince Judy to let Maggie and Kyle stay at home and watch over him instead, because even his little sister would be an infinitely preferable babysitter to Judy’s best friend. He could ask to be put in the care of literally any of her other friends, most of whom did still get a little pleasure out of toying with Scott and enjoying his foot-butler talents, but would nonetheless be a relaxing paradise compared to the same time spent with Nancy. Hell, he could ask Judy to stick him inside a locked cat carrier and leave him alone here for the three days in solitude with a pile of food scraps and a paper cup for a toilet: much closer to a real prison experience, and surely lonely as it was humiliating, but still much better than being a pet to the one and only Mrs. Nancy Dugan for half a week. Yet before he had the chance to feebly offer any of these poor suggestions, Scott could already hear his mother’s readily-prepared answers in his head shooting down each and every possibility. Somehow even more powerful than her political acumen or her gigantic feet when encountered from a shrunken scope was the woman’s ability to turn any idea back on her son and make him feel idiotically guilty for it. Her mind was made up, his fate was already sealed, and to mope any further about it would only leave him worse off.

“Yes,” he defeatedly sighed from under Judy’s toes. “You can count on me.”

“Good. I knew I could,” the blonde titaness replied with a triumphant smirk. However, after getting the desired answer, she didn’t immediately pick her foot off her son, or allow him to reacquire his maintenance tool, but instead gingerly scrunched the malleable shafts of her digits against the boy’s chest and neck. “As long as you’re lying there, though, you might as well give them a little rub. I did always prefer a massage by hand than with an instrument, anyhow. Go ahead and get to it. We’ve got to squeeze in as much time together as we can before I leave tomorrow, because Mommy is really going to miss you, sweetie. More than you can know.”