(Content Tags: Giantess, Growth, F/m, Feet)
Monica laid in bed, at least what parts of her could still fit on the bed as she still felt the floor underfoot with her atop the bed. Sleep had been fitful and consistent. She was going to murder that imp. Malcolm, too, maybe… had to make sure that all parties responsible, no matter if they were duped or otherwise.
She glared at the ceiling for another few minutes before grumbling and sitting up, feeling the bed creak beneath her. The legs of her boots nearly at the level of the largely bowed mattress. She walked back her earlier statement, she couldn’t be mad at Malcolm. The guy seemed sweet, but he was way too susceptible to be manipulated by what Impy said. He offered to help her by giving her a place to sleep as an apology. Even gave her his bed while she was getting back to normal size. She stood up, hitting her head on the ceiling, cursing as she only now remembered how short ceilings still were. She stooped down, and made her way out of the bedroom and into the hallway.
The kitchen was well appointed, at least as far as single guys went. Dishes stacked in the sink, glasses on the counter next to it. Malcolm was at least intending to take care of himself, but she could only imagine how much he actually worked to leave some things this long. Monica searched the cupboards, amused that she could finally reach the top shelves without assistance, and pulled down a cup, filling it with tap water. Looking to the refrigerator, Monica felt hunger finally reach her after so long of ignoring it.
Monica got down on her knees and opened the door to the refrigerator. Milk, eggs, cheese, beer, basics. Looked like he took care of himself. There were a few take out boxes on the shelves, nothing much really telling the difference between the styrofoam containers besides size. Shrugging, she took one off the top, opening it. Looked like the mixed contents of leftovers from some Tex-mex restaurant or other. Nothing growing on it, must have been pretty recent.
Opting for the easier path than trying to cook in some else’s home, Monica prepped the leftovers on the plate with a rinsed fork. She came across a bottle on the countertop, looking a lot like tabasco, so she picked that up. Might as well add some spice to things.
Maneuvering the plate into the microwave wasn’t hard, but using her nails to dial in the reheating function certainly was. She sat on the floor and had a moment to look at herself. She didn’t have a change of clothes. She didn’t think too much on it, having doubted anything Malcolm could come up with would fit, nor anything else available. She’d just have to make do until then. God, she wanted a shower. Her hair felt gross and just looked worse since yesterday. Beadhead only made this problem worse.
*ding*
Monica snapped back to the moment and only now noticed how nice the smell from the microwave was. She smiled. Things would be over soon enough and back to normal. Maybe she’d even do something nice for Malcolm for being so apologetic and hospitable. She took out the now warm meal, and shook the bottle in her hand. After opening it, she sprinkled the contents on the food. Looking closely, she saw that the liquid quickly absorbed into the food without any sign or evidence. She sprinkled more on it, and saw much of the same effect. She replaced the lid on the bottle and set it back on the counter, hoping she could at least taste this hot sauce. It obviously wasn’t Tabasco, but maybe it was something better? She picked up her plate and made her way to the sitting room.
Malcolm was laying on the couch, only now waking up, smelling at the air.
“Oh hey! You found something!” He said, sleep still on his face. “Sorry, I should have woke up and fixed you something.”
“It’s fine.” Monica said “You already did a lot for me already. Besides, I think leftovers are just what I need right now.”
She held up the plate, smiling to him, and sat down. She opted to sit on the floor again, not wanting to risk breaking one of the chairs. After blowing a bit on the food , she gingerly used the tiny fork to eat. It wasn’t much, but it was something. She would probably pick up something else on the way home.
“I’m sorry that I got so mad at you yesterday.” Monica said, swallowing the first of what appeared to maybe be a three bite meal.
“Hey, it’s ok! I feel bad about what happened. I’m just glad that I can help you out now.”
The pair looked watched each other for a long moment, Monica with more to chew, and Malcolm barely hiding his joy at having her as company.
“Did you like it? The growing I mean.”
“Hm?” Monica said
“I mean, it was kinda dropped on you, but how did you feel growing? How do you feel being so tall?”
Monica leaned back, uncrossing her legs still wearing the black and white striped stockings, and recrossing them at the ankles.
“I really don’t know what to think. I mean, it’s kinda nice being able to reach things. It sucks having to fit through doors, though…”
“Oh yeah, I have this friend, Chibi, he-”
“Chibi?” Monica said, unbelieving.
“Y-yeah, I swear it’s his name!”
She shrugged a bit, and smiled a little, humoring him to continue.
“So yeah, he’s married to this really nice lady, Takai. She’s really tall, too. Like, having trouble getting through doors kinda tall like you.”
“Are these folks asian or something?”
“No, not that I’m aware of…” Malcolm’s face screwed into a creased ball of thought.
“So, like, nicknames or something? Those are some strange names, no offence.”
Malcolm shrugged now, his chuckle a meager reply to her question.
“So there’s other people this big? Why hasn’t this hit the news or anything?” Monica looked to her own situation, seeing but still unbelieving.
“Yeah, I guess people just kinda accept strange things around here… I mean, you met Impy, right? That doesn’t seem weird to see something like that?”
Monica chuckled now, realizing her own oversight. She liked him, even if he was easily manipulated by some people. She finished up the last bite and set the plate on the table, next to the bottle.
“So what kind of sauce was in this? I don’t think I’ve heard of it before.” She said as she handed the bottle to Malcolm.
Malcolm’s face flushed, and his mouth dropped a little.
“What? What’s wrong?” She said, her anxiety growing.
“T-This was left here by my friend, Al… I.. think we may have a-”
Monica didn’t get to hear the end of it, because the tingling she thought was the spice started to intensify as he spoke, and suddenly she felt the ceiling sharply hit the top of her head, eliciting a curse. The room felt a lot less roomy than before. She felt something squirm under her foot, which seemed odd since she didn’t expect anything to be in contact with it.She saw that her right foot had grown so fast, she had actually caught her host beneath it and it was pressing him to the wall. His arms flailing some and pressing back against her sole as her heel separated his legs.
~He looked kinda cute, all helpless like that.~ she caught herself thinking.
Once the initial shock of her situation subsided, she felt her anger take over.
“Malcolm… you really gotta label these things better! What the hell does Al do?!”
A muffled voice was her reply. She sighed and shifted her foot to one side on her heel. She could see that Malcolm was very red now, but what from, she didn’t want to ask.
“What?” Monica said.
“I said he worked on growth formulas. It’s kind of his thing, you know?”
“Seems like it’s your thing as well, huh?” She looked at him flatly, a frown in her black lips.
“N-not like that! We’re just friends, you know?”
“So now what?”
“We either wait until it wears off, which it will, I swear! Or if I can find the phone, I can call up Al and see if we can’t get the antidote.”
Monica shifted her body as best she could, but no matter where she went, she couldn’t really get herself out of her cramped position.
“Guess we’re waiting then.” Monica said with disappointment in her tone.
“You know, this isn’t all bad if you-”
Malcolm was interrupted by Monica planting her foot right back on top of him, hard.
“No talking.”
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