Beta in an Alpha World (Chapter 2) (Patreon)

Izumi’s flats didn’t come all the way off right there on the table, which was a blessing because then I would’ve been in serious danger of a timber situation, but instead were kept suspended by her toes still added up into the most-northern point of either slip-on. However, now just half-wearing her shoes, it required only the most lackadaisical flexing of her digits and a simple rhythmic arching of her soles for Izumi to make those mammoth objects dance, bopping and swooping them repeatedly away from both her humongous pinkish-rosy bare feet. This was obviously an almost-totally automatic act on her part, and judging by the tapping of fingertips I heard beyond, my roommate was clearly tinkering on her phone in her lap while using the kitchen table surface as a personal ottoman for her titanic feet.

As a Beta, you have to learn to put up with a lot: whether it’s a giant’s startling overly-aggressive movements, the deafening boom of their voice, or an oblivious lack of hygiene in certain semi-neglected areas. For that reason, even while Izumi somewhat-rudely treated our meal surface like a coffee table by kicking up her worn-out shoes and nearly bowled me clean over like an unnoticed speck of debris under that stiff rubber sole, I didn’t hold it against her. My undying gratitude for her overall compassion and protection toward me, at least when she was paying attention, meant that my roommate could usually get away with a lot of minor “shortcomings” before upsetting me. Yet even my highly-tolerant limits were tested then, as two random and highly-innocent yet nonetheless tragically inconvenient little gestures unfolded at once to spell even greater trouble for me.

First, the tea mug budged hard, bumping into me, as I realized it had been pushed another inch forth when Izumi stretched forth to grab it and down the remaining room-temperature beverage inside. Which would’ve been good news, since she might’ve been able to see me once the mug was picked up. Except she didn’t, because simultaneously with the mug knocking into me like an oversized carnival bumper car, the giantess’s mocha-hued leather slip-on swung away from her heel at the behest of her flared toes. These two subtle actions perpetrated by Izumi, peacefully and without thinking, served to bounce me right off that porcelain monument and sent me rolling straight into the shadowy sliver of space between my roommate’s naked heel and her dangled-away shoe like a game of putt-putt.

In one chaotic flash, I found myself sprawling in the dark muggy aroma-thickened void between the rugged flaked-up insole of Izumi’s slip-on and the dense meaty rotundness of her propped-up heel. As I was still struggling for breath and clarity after that unfortunate sequence of disorienting errors, it certainly didn’t get any easier coming back to my senses once I was abruptly immersed in such a hot stagnant claustrophobic arena so ripe with the damp earthy salt-sprinkled flavor of my roommate’s post-work foot musk. Granted, having been a Beta my whole life, this wasn’t exactly the first time I’d inadvertently been placed in closer-than-desired proximity with a giant’s foot, nor was it even the first time I’d come this near to Izumi’s. Yet I’d gotten better with age at avoiding such situations, which meant it tended to happen a lot less. And at least with my humongous roommate, after learning of her occasional lack of laser-focused awareness when it came to her behavior around me, I’d so far managed to only be anywhere close to her feet while they were still fully encased in shoes, or when she’d freshly emerged from the shower. Right now, I was experiencing a rather-unsettling pair of first-time misadventures: being almost-literally inside Izumi’s massive shoe while her foot could so easily push back within it for wear, and arguably even worse, utterly submerged in the dank misty bittersweetness of her after-work sole.

Logic and survival instinct told me to crawl back toward the light immediately and get myself out of here. Yet the wind caught in my throat and it felt like the controls for my limbs had all switched places. Helplessly, stupidly, I let myself gulp up a hearty lungful of that hazy piquant stink steaming so vividly and almost tangibly from Izumi’s upstanding foot, then quietly hacked and spasmed, overcome by the raunch of it and still not quite catching up with the present moment fast enough to react on my own behalf. Though I was quickly brought up to speed again when the giantess resumed bopping the flat against her foot, by waving her toes back and forth and deepening the bend of her arch. Suddenly, I was ping-ponged repeatedly off the backend of Izumi’s worn-down slip-on and the moist rubbery obstruction of her heel. As if I wasn’t already out-of-sorts enough, I fully lost all sense of direction or agency then, as my roommate unknowingly bounced me in that warm thin space between her balmy foot and dirty shoe. Regrettably, even direct contact with her bare heel wasn’t enough to alert her to my presence, as she kept on doing this for what felt like a full hour but was likely only a few minutes. Beyond, I heard her contentedly sipping from that cooled-off tea and occasionally murmuring with inquisitive interest while reading something on her phone.

And so, with literally no other choice, I just endured this nerve-wracking and highly-coincidental mayhem as best I could. The dizziness got to me even more than I expected. Eventually, my best and safest choice was just to ball myself up in the fetal position for protection, until she eventually finished toying with her slip-on, and I’d have the chance to crawl back out with what remained of my dignity. At least the movement of her gigantic foot offered some mild airing-out to this cramped space, but I doubted that wet musty scent was going anywhere anytime soon without a proper bathing. I wasn’t in any hurry to experience it again in the future, yet curiously, I wasn’t quite as nauseated by that distinct odor as I might’ve feared. Luckily, Izumi’s passive toe-scrunching shoe-bobbing conduct was performed with just enough unwitting gentleness that it felt more like being moderately roughhoused in a padded wrestling gym, rather than getting violently smacked around by her heel. I could scarcely imagine how sorry she’d feel about what happened. And so I resolved to keep this “little” accident to myself, if only I could scramble out of here just as unnoticed as I’d entered.