Bad Vibes

You were in a living hell. Here you were, standing on the coffee table of some random giant woman who’d plucked you from the street on your way to work. She looked like some twenty-first century hippie. But, you had no idea who she was.

You were not like other diminished. Sure, you’d suffered his fair share of prejudice, but the man was connected. Rich. The only reason you shrank is because some psycho ex-friend of you withheld your amplidine from you for too long. But you had respect, mostly because of your money, but it was respect nonetheless.

While on your way to meet your driver, who was just down the street, the woman had walked over you, standing in your way.

You shouted up at the purple haired woman as you ask for her to get outta of the damn way.

She shook her head and bent down, picking you up. You cursed and protested before getting quickly shoved in a purse. It smelled of a mixture of lavender, cigarettes, and weed. Just where was this woman taking you?

Shuffling around, you stumbled upon her driver’s license. Her name was Daniella, she was twenty-three years old. Five foot eight, though at your size she might as well be several stories tall.

You took out your tiny smartphone and attempted to call 911. Unfortunately, you had no service. You weren't sure if your mant-sized smartphone was just on the fritz, which they often were, or if there was no self service in her purse.

All you could do right now was wait. You’d call when you were free of the purse.

You were trapped inside the purse for hours. It seemed your captor was in no rush to mess with you. You continued to remind yourself to just wait, stay calm, and wait.

Finally, the rumbling of the woman’s purse stopped. There were no muffled sounds of traffic, crowds, music, people talking... Perhaps she was home? The zipper that hung overhead began to slide backward, an ocean of light poured into your leather prison, blinding you.

When your eyes finally adjusted, a massive hand dug through the crevice of the purse and scooped you out.

You groaned as you were dropped onto a hard coffee table.

You looked up, and there was Daniella. She had a blunt in hand, a smug look on her face. It seemed she’d already made herself comfortable before releasing you.

You began shouting, tells her that who does she think she is, she think she could just kidnap you off the street, you warn her that you're not some everyday shortstack on the street, assure her that she will regret this.

You dug in your pockets as you accosted her and pulled out your phone. You had service. All you had to do was dial 911, and even if she took the phone from you, they’d send somebody.

As fast as you could, you pulled up the call app and started to hit numbers.

“Yoink!” Daniella leaned forward and plucked the phone from your grip. You fell forward, hitting your knees against the wood. “Who’re you, like, calling? Can you even call somebody on this? It’s like a little toy for a doll.”

You shouted at her using her name and ask her to give your phone back.

Daniella raised a brow, a little confused. “Oh...” she said with a nod. “Saw my license did you? Well, like, I go by Danny.”

The giant took the minuscule phone and dropped it on her tongue like a pill. She promptly swallowed. Down her throat your phone went, and so too did your only real chance of escape.

You shouted and cursed her a bitch.

“Hey!” She scolded, “You need to, like, relax. Okay?”

You ask her what did she want with you.

She shrugged. “I kinda, like, got some pretty bad vibes from you. Not like, the usual bad vibes I get from people. Nah, yours was different. I can’t really, like, explain it...? Buuut, I really feel this kind of energy from the universe that just kinda told me that I should take you.”

You blinked slowly, confused as to what she was saying. You ask her what did she mean by that.

She snorted, taking a drag of her blunt. “I don’t, like, expect you to understand. Just know that the universe wants me to keep you as a pet.”

A pet? She wants you as a pet? You tell her that she can't be fucking serious and there's no way you're fucking accept this, you're gotta get outta here.

BOOM. BOOM.

What felt like an earthquake knocked you over. You looked up, the source of the quakes becoming clear. Danny had placed her two bare feet on the coffee table. They wiggled, as if to mock him. You quickly covered your own nose. Her feet smelled like old, leather shoes and sweat.

You scold at her that did she ever wash herself.

“Once every other day,” she said, taking another puff. “Y’know, like, people don’t have to shower as much as society tells you. Our bodies, like, can keep itself clean pretty naturally.”

You shout at her to get her feet away from you.

She burst out laughing, her toes scrunching in the process. “Dude, like, my feet’s the whole point. You're a foot pet now!”

You getting furious, tells her that you're a grown man, you own a goddamn business, who the fuck does she think—

“Don’t care!” She interrupted, sliding her feet close to you. “Doesn’t matter, you’re a pet now. Start licking, squirt.”

It didn’t take long for you to be broken in.