Hello my lovely little spring chickadees and kinksters!
I have a wonderfully written fantasy to share by one of my very favorite pets Chris. You may remember Chris from the awesome interview session he did for me a few months back. Please Enjoy this amazing Giantess essay with this excellent wordsmith.
There aren’t many practical uses for a minuscule man like me, but according to Mistress Fiona, there are plenty of fun ones as long as you’re even a little creative. I’m not the best person to ask about what’s fun – I love anything as long as I’m serving my Goddess – but Mistress Fiona is, among many other things, very creative. For example, once she wanted to show off her superiority over me (and over everyone else!) while simply going about her day. She also wanted it to be subtle – failing to notice would then serve as one more proof of your inferiority. As it should be.
Mistress Fiona placed me in the palm of her hand and held it up to her gorgeous face so that she could hear my tiny voice. She had some ideas for how to accomplish her goal, and she wanted me to help narrow them down, but she also wanted to surprise me with her plan. She was direct, but her question was not one I could answer easily.
“So, little man, I have a question for you.” The words blew out of her lips like a strong, warm breeze. I am, after all, only an inch and a half tall; Mistress Fiona’s breath could bowl me over like a hurricane, if she wanted. “What is your favorite part of me to worship?” I had to think for a few moments.
A crueler giantess might have meant it as a trick question, so that she could punish me for a “wrong” answer. But while Mistress Fiona is many things, she is, at the very least, not nearly so crudely sadistic. (Her sadism is much more refined, of course!) She wanted my honest answer. No, I had to deliberate because there is no part of my Goddess that I don’t love worshiping, and I said as much.
“That was much too big a question for my tiny pet, obviously.” She smirked at me. “I’ll make it easier for you, then. Don’t think, just answer: where do you want to worship me right now?”
That question was just as difficult as the first, if not harder. (Like I said, her sadism is sophisticated!) But without the luxury of time, I could only answer with the first thing that came to mind: the part of her that I can always reach from my low, lowly perspective. Where I am still not worthy to touch, but maybe I’m just a bit closer to worthiness than where I am now, raised level with her divine face.
“My feet, little man?” She giggled. “I can work with that.” And with that, my Mistress put me away for the night. When she took me out again in the morning, she didn’t even speak at first. After placing me on her desk, she pulled out a small, very fine chain, and then she drew several loops of it around me, pulling my arms snugly against my torso. She then clasped each end of the chain to a golden band roughly half as wide as I was tall, and pull the remaining length of the chain until I was pulled tightly against the band at my back.
“I custom-made this little ring just for you, my little toy. Enjoy!”
Mistress Fiona picked me up and bent down from her seat, but she held me so that I was face up and could only watch her face as I descended. By the time I could see her smooth, redwood-like legs, I had to have been at her feet. By the time her fingers relinquished me, I could only directly see straight up (to her magnificent, angelic face), but my peripheral vision caught the lavender-painted nail of her big toe. She wiggled all of her toes, making me ride their scrunches and stretches.
“You’re going to be my toe ring for the day, little pet. I hope you like the view!”
I spent that day accessorizing Mistress Fiona’s right foot, complementing a cute pair of beige flat sandals and enduring the constant thud of her steps. I had no choice but to gaze upwards at my Goddess as went about her day, flaunting her ownership of me to anyone who thought to look down at her beautiful feet.
In fact, I loved the view, thank you very much. She couldn’t hear me from my place at her toes, but I needed to say it, anyway.
“Thank you very much, Mistress Fiona.”
And thank you Chris!
Oh yay! Little man jewelry! Ms. Fiona, I love this story by your “little” wordsmith. His stories are, indeed, very good! I love the imagery of him enduring the bumps while you’re walking around. I imagine him riding your toes and holding on for dear life!
Oh yes that would be so hot!