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Life Changes (Chapter 5)
🕑 Added 2025-09-15 13:00:06 +0000 UTCThe giantess giggled at my unfortunate adjustment period to my new four-inch height, then crouched down again, whipping out her phone camera for the second time. This time, I luckily didn’t see a white insole staring back at me, but I didn’t see myself either; instead, I saw David, though “he” looked just as miserable and caked with fusty secretions as I felt. I realized Kayla had now transformed me to look exactly like the family’s shrunken friend-turned-toy. The real David, still unconscious on the couch, was turned into an insole himself so as not to arouse suspicion, leaving me with his identity. Just then, I heard the distant front door opening, followed by Grace cheerfully announcing her arrival.
“Don’t forget, my little slave-in-law…” Kayla whispered. Her hand opened up, fingers threateningly clawed, and collected me into a tight fist. With my back to the mattress-like plain of her palm, those digits coiled like iron cobras around me, until all I could do was wheeze in her grasp. “…part of our deal is that only I know who you are. You better not say anything to Mom or my sister that lets them know. If you do… you can kiss your chances of winning the bet goodbye forever. I mean, you’re still not gonna win, obviously, but if you tell them, you’ll lose right then and there. Understand?”
“Y-Yes…” I quivered in her colossal fist.
“Good,” she cooed, just as Grace entered the room with a big smile on her pretty face. Unlike her daughters, the woman was not exactly in Olympic athlete shape, with an average build, but that didn’t detract at all from her loveliness; Grace was young for a mother, and defied middle age with her natural beauty, giddy personality, and long almost-glimmering golden-blonde hair that she shared with her second child.
I couldn’t help but admire the sight of the equally-astronomic blonde, shapely yet full of raw power owing to her sheer size, almost majestic in her grandeur compared to my four-inch self. She didn’t need Kayla’s muscle mass to appear intimidating in her own right, when from my perspective Grace looked to be one hundred feet tall. However, my appreciation quickly turned to anxiety when Grace’s attention fell to her daughter’s closed fist, and the affectionate gaze she usually reserved for the “real” me was replaced with a playfully vindictive smirk: the same one I saw on her face that first day I discovered David getting gently pulverized between her pale soles.
“Oh, there he is. Are you finished with him now, honey?” Grace politely questioned her offspring, though her expression was just as malicious while aimed my way.
“Yep! He’s all yours, Mom,” Kayla said.
“He looks pretty worn-out. Putting him to work, were you?”
“Well, he did lose that bet two years ago, fair and square. What, I’m supposed to wipe off my own feet after the gym? That’d be crazy, when there’s a perfectly good mini slave standing right there, just waiting to be told to drink up the sweat from between my toes!”
“I couldn’t agree more, sweetie,” Grace said. She held out an open hand below Kayla’s fist. “So, mind handing him over? I’ve been in these heels all day, and I’m dying to kick them off and relax for a little while.”
“Sure thing. Have fun, you two!” Kayla said. She looked me straight in the eye, winked, then even blew me a mocking air-kiss before opening her hand and allowing me to fall into Grace’s waiting clutches.
I was nervous the instant I landed on the cushy plank of Grace’s hand, even though the sensation was infinitely more comfortable than the various foot-pounding activities I’d just suffered through. Much whiter than her daughter’s own sun-tanned tone, my future mother-in-law’s palm was also notably softer and creamier, lacking the calluses of her gym-rat child’s habits. When her fingers closed around me, she even had the generosity not to squeeze me like a tube of toothpaste, like Kayla so gleefully had, but merely held me firmly in place so I couldn’t fall out or escape as she exited the room, her arm swinging at her side. Soon we found ourselves in the living room.
“You’re looking a little worse for wear, David,” Grace said, almost piteously, which made me wonder for a foolish second if she was going to give me a rest period. After all, the woman was far more soft-spoken and selfless than her aggressive go-getter elder daughter. Then she added: “I hope whatever Kayla just did to you didn’t make you too exhausted to work, David, because if you can’t do a good enough job of helping me unwind right now, there will be punishment, and you know what happened last time you tested me.”
Not being David, of course I had no idea what that punishment had been, though I was pretty sure I was better off not knowing. This was punishment enough.
“I’ll do my best,” I whimpered, indeed quite spent.
“Let’s hope your best is plenty,” Grace warmly intoned. “You, especially, should hope that.”
Listening to my fiancé’s loving mother speak to me in this way, a woman who’d hosted get-togethers and made me feel welcome in the family, was almost as surreal as being turned into an insole. When Kayla had spoken to me earlier post-shrinking, it was with her trademark control and degrading snark, just as she did when I was full-size; I was used to it. This, however, was haunting, if only because Grace’s quiet lullaby of a voice did not match the menace coming from her lips. I shivered in her loose grasp as she took a seat on the couch and propped up both feet on the ottoman, setting me down beside the monumental shapes. Clad in skin-tight nude stockings and a pair of glossy black pumps, Grace’s tired upturned feet emerged into view to the tune of her musical sighs.
The mature goddess began rolling the stockings down her legs one at a time, layer by layer. At last she was tugging them up her sole and plucking off her toes. The nude fabric swished like running water across smooth bedrock, until Grace’s still-baby-smooth peds emerged naked from the silken folds before my very eyes. She tossed these aside, then leaned back again into the pillows. Like the rest of her body, the woman’s feet had aged like fine wine, still supple and smooth, though she remained relatively young, which might’ve offered comfort to me in different circumstances. Of course, no matter how polished or disgusting Grace’s feet were or weren’t, the fact that I was staring up at them from four inches tall made their appearance irrelevant. The things towered over me like fleshy obelisks, her toes scrunching down against the balls of her feet, and in so doing wrinkling and stippling the rosy skin of her arch into a variety of peachy hues and malleable sculptures.
“I can’t recall, David…” Grace murmured. “Help jog my memory. When I told that you were going to help me unwind, did I stutter? Give me the usual.”
