For Richer, For Smaller (Chapter 29) (Patreon)

“Well, if you’re sure I can’t get either of you anything to drink, just make yourselves at home, and let me know how I can help clear things up! I’m an open book. Because, above all, what I want – and what my darling husband Tony wants too – is for the truth to be out there, as we step into this new chapter of our lives together,” Lillian invited, now audible again to her half-foot-tall prisoner after she’d claimed a seat on the sofa and raised her heel an inch off his legs again. She spoke with a breadth of such politician-like polish and delightful hostess-sunshine that made Tony even sicker than he already felt while having his organs compressed so hard together inside his borderline sheet-thin torso beneath her titanic leaden-arched weight that it almost felt like his internal systems were swapping functions now at random. His wife really thought she was going to pull this off. Quivering like an epileptic, direly exhausted from the crushing pain, and anemically pale from head-to-toe as though Lillian’s strides had finally squeezed all the blood out of him, the shrinker nonetheless listened now with the closest emotion to hope that he was still capable of feeling. He was so close to being home free of this insane podophilic worth-draining phantasm that his miniature shriveled-up life had become. All he had to do now was wait for the cunt to knot her own noose.

“Thank you,” the male cop said, still professional, though his tone had notably softened to a friendlier pitch since they were welcomed inside. “Maybe we could start by just reviewing a few of the facts, based on conversations we’ve had with your employees.”

“Your company was, until about two months ago, actively involved in the development of atomic size-alteration technology, meant to permanently shrink organic matter to any chosen size,” his partner continued. “Is that correct?”

“Yes, you could say that entire limb of the business was a passion project for my husband,” Lillian said. “We’re no longer pouring any capital into its development, though.”

“I see. Now, according to those who were involved with the actual creation of this permanent shrinking technology, it was only tested on one subject before the project was shut down. Your husband himself. Is that also correct?”

“Correct. Not just tested, but successfully carried out, I might add. Tony is a risk-taker in that way, but also a pioneer. A visionary. And, if I can brag on his behalf, something of a genius. He knows exactly what he wants, and then he takes it, no matter the challenges or costs in his way. And it’s always for the best, even if the rest of us can’t see it at first. That’s just his gift. Anyone who knows him would agree.”

Tony couldn’t have explained the reason to himself, but he found his irate mood boiling even faster to hear Lillian speaking about him in such affectionate and complimentary terms, rather than condescendingly trying to tear down his reputation, especially because she sounded so nauseatingly genuine in every word she spoke to the police. And that migraine-inducing temper was only pushed into hotter turmoil for him by an especially potent round of his spouse’s favorite new tramping-related pastime. Or at least one of many favorites, wherein she’d impress the ball of her foot down upon his torso, with her toepads rimmed just around his head like a broad halo, and then continuously revolve the pressure around from the five pliable dome-spiraled tips of her digits before coming back to that velvety hump of her upper sole silhouette, smooth as a perfectly spherical ice cream scoop glistening in the sun just seconds before starting to melt. The tension on Tony was not only consistent and disproportionately hefty, even for a giantess so much grander in scope than her shoe-coffin subject, but was timed just expertly enough to give her ruined husband’s sagging entrails and decrepit little bird-thin bones a partial breather to painfully reinflate into abnormal shapes – only to smush everything inside him back down again when her blemishless arch flexed rife with squishy wrinkles and her peachy-rose flesh whitened from the effort compress him for the next controlled lap.

Though as flagrant as this disfiguring punishment upon the shrinker’s crumpled abdomen was, the worst and most vibrant circle of Tony’s personal foot-hell was reserved – as always – for his head. No matter his size, everything always came down to that primal union between his face and Lillian’s foot, and his longing to live forever at this mythic crowning moment of trampled pressure between nuzzling plushness and skull-bending aggression. It often only happened for a few minutes at a time back in the old days, before he’d so foolishly surrendered his stature and all his life’s works to this woman, but it was still always worth every dollar paid and every evening hour spent supine on the floor while she cautiously blessed his facial features with the taut warm marshmallow-soled constriction native to her impeccable peds. Now, reduced eternally to six inches tall (unless all the constant slow-motion stomping inside her shoes at last caused his body to buckle under Lillian like an accordion and he folded to half his prior stature or less), Tony was lucky to receive even a split-second of that specific feeling: the purest fetishistic alchemy of spongily heaven-sent undersole textures and compounded soul-gripping treading stress. Everything else he felt instant-to-instant now, whether night or day, awake or unconscious, was just another exponential echelon of unthinkable heaviness imparted into his wobbly-frail little face by his colossal wife’s vengeful goddess-divine sole.

And now, just as reliably as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west, Lillian’s treacherously overdone endeavor to step on her spouse’s face until it felt like it was going to crunch inside-out like a rotten walnut, made Tony’s untouched prick straighten stiffly beneath the sweat-fragrant shadow of her hovering heel.

“Thank you, ma’am. That brings us to your recent promotion at the company, taking over for your husband after his… shrinking procedure,” the female cop said.

“Your employees have stated that you were hand-picked for the position by your husband and mentored through the entire process, with his full cooperation,” her partner resumed. “Is that accurate?”

“Very much so,” Lillian answered, finally descending into outright lying with the greatest of ease, which gave her shrunken spouse a devilish thrill. Now the officers were finally getting to the reason for this house call. She’d soon incriminate herself too deeply to talk her way out. “For obvious reasons, Tony couldn’t possibly have made this adjustment, being six inches tall for the rest of his life, and still run the company with any kind of credibility. No one would have taken him seriously, and he knows that better than anyone. So, it was very important to my husband that his successor, the person in charge of everything he worked so hard to create, be someone he absolutely trusted. Someone he knew had the brains to keep the place on-track. Someone he… loved. Well, that narrowed the list of possible candidates down pretty far. I’m sure any of my employees you spoke with weren’t too shy to say they had their doubts about me at first. They would have been crazy not to feel that way, considering how little prior experience I had. But, as I assured them all, I had the best-possible support system in Tony. Better yet, they’ve been able to see the proof for themselves. And now the company’s future – and, if it’s not too personal to say, our marriage – is healthier and brighter than ever.”