Converted Beneath My Toes
FROM A TINY MAN'S PERSPECTIVE, HE STANDS IN AWE OF MISS JADE'S GIANTESS PRESENCE. HER TOES ARE THE HIGH PRIESTS OF HER DIVINE WORLD, AND HE IS BOTH HUMBLED AND HORRIFIED BY THEIR POWER. HE TREMBLES AS HE RECITES A NEW MANTRA, ONE THAT CENTERS AROUND THE GLORY OF HER FEET. EVERY SYLLABLE IS A WEIGHTY DECLARATION OF HIS UTTER SUBSERVIENCE.
THE ROOM THEY ARE IN IS BOTH SACRED AND SINISTER. IT REEKS OF INCENSE AND THE SHARP STING OF PAIN. HE KNOWS THAT ONE SLIP-UP, ONE MOMENT OF WEAKNESS, COULD BE HIS UNDOING. HE FEELS THE PRESSURE OF HER WILL CRUSHING DOWN ON HIM, REMINDING HIM OF HIS PLACE IN HER HIERARCHY.
AS HE REPEATS THE MANTRA, HE FEELS HIMSELF BEING DRAGGED CLOSER TO HER TOES. HE CAN FEEL THEIR WARMTH, THEIR PULSE. THEY ARE ALIVE, AND THEY ARE HIS GODDESS. HE PLEDGES HIS ETERNAL DEVOTION, HIS BODY, HIS SOUL.
BUT MISS JADE IS A DEVOURER OF WEAKNESS. SHE WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY FAILURE TO PLEASE HER. AS HE FINISHES THE MANTRA, HE SEES HER TOES BEGIN TO MOVE, BARELY PERCEPTIBLE IN THE DIM LIGHT. HE TENSES, PREPARED FOR THE WORST.
SUDDENLY, HER TOES DESCEND UPON HIM, CRUSHING HIM BENEATH THEIR MIGHTY WEIGHT. HE CRIES OUT IN AGONY, BUT ALSO IN PLEASURE, FOR THIS IS HIS FATE. HE IS NOW BUT AN INSECT UNDER HER FEET, HIS EVERY MOVEMENT AT HER WHIM.
HE HAS BEEN TRANSFORMED, BOTH IN BODY AND SOUL. HE IS NOW A SLAVE TO HER EVERY COMMAND, HER EVERY WISH. HE IS GREATFUL FOR THIS PRIVILEGE, AND YET ALSO TERRIFIED OF HER POTENTIAL WRATH. HE IS A SPECK NEXT TO HER, YET HIS HEART BEATS STRONGER FOR HER.
HE WILL LIVE TO SERVE HER, TO BOW DOWN BEFORE HER TOES, TO FEEL HER WEIGHT UPON HIM. HE IS NO LONGER A MAN, BUT A CREATURE OF HER IMAGINING, A SPECIMEN OF HER GIANTESS WILL. HE IS HERS, BODY AND SOUL.
