Birthday Gift from Pipolla
#8 of Birthday Gifts 2015
This is for all the nostalgia-baters complaining that there isn't enough Mirage out there.Pipolla - The wonderful tasting writer.
Matty breathed hard as he crept across the old wooden table, keeping to the dark shapes of half empty bottles and piles of ripe smelling fruit strewn about the top. The mouse flicked his ears and slowed to a crawl; he could hear the old rotting wood beneath him creaking under his feet, giving way to the slightest movements of his tiny frame. Just a little closer, he kept thinking, holding his breath as he scampered from shadow to shadow, the full moon illuminating his body as he ran for cover; the lingering warmth of the desert air blew through the open window hitting in his brown-furred face, fine granules of sand matting his unkempt hair. Just on the edge of the table now, he hunkered down and took a break, wiping dirt and sweat from his face. The heat was suffocating - he was mad to have hitchhiked his way here, sneaking from crate to crate, dodging the hurried feet of traders and camels, or eluding the hungry felines, vigilant for little pests such as himself. Staving off thirst was the worst part of the ordeal - he swore he was close to shriveling up and dying three or four times - running off to find water meant getting left behind in the searing desert, or worse, eaten by the local wildlife. In the end, he somehow made it. The perils of travel were now behind him, but hiding in the shadows a rundown slum house in Agrabah scrounging for scraps wasn't his idea of a grand vacation.
The growling of his stomach brought him back to the task at hand. Matty bent down put a hand to his gut before scanning the disheveled room from his high perch, idly rubbing the fur of his belly as he sniffed the stale air for any unspoiled sustenance. There had to be something here, he thought, anything - a half-eaten apple, hard breadcrumbs, a piece of old cheese - he wasn't picky. He couldn't afford to be, given his sorry situation. After moments of searching, his green eyes widened; there on the floor just on the other end of the room, near the broken bed and its torn and soiled covers, cheese - food at last. He couldn't help but squeak with joy, only to quickly slap a hand over his own mouth afterwards. He couldn't bring attention to himself, not now, not while he was so close to his goal. He didn't know who, or what, resided in this hovel, if anyone other than himself; he wasn't about to risk finding that answer the hard way. Climbing down from over the edge of the table, the little mouse descended, clinging tightly to the worn out leg of furniture, keeping watch of the floor below, his heart beating harder and harder the closer he came to the ground. With one slow and careful step, he reached the bottom and peered about in the darkness again. Nothing. Just him, the cheese, the moon outside and the distant howl of dogs in the air.
Matty made a mad dash for the food, his hunger overriding any fear he held in his heart or trembling limbs. His mouth salivated; thoughts of warm, wonderful cheese bombarded his senses; the rich aroma wafting in his nostrils; the sharp tartness of its flavor tingling, dancing on his lips and tongue before it slid down his throat, more delicious than any he had ever tasted. The damn thing was probably rancid but he couldn't bring himself to care, his maddening fantasy could very well smother the spoiled flavor. His delusions would fade in a day or two anyways, once the cramps settled in, if he managed to stay in one piece for that long. Out of breath, the mouse gripped the side of the hard wedge of cheese, cold in his hands as he struggled to lift it from the wooden floor. He dragged himself closer to it, lips quivering, eager to take a bite out of his hard-earned meal. The mouse's maw widened as his teeth sunk down, only for his incisors to bounce off its impossibly hard surface.
Matty fell to the floor, clutching his hurt mouth as he dragged himself away from the cheese. "Ugh, it... it tasted like metal." Metal? he thought. What kind of cruel, sick joke was this to play on a poor, starving mouse like himself? Then he heard a sound rumbling from behind him, then a rapidly growing light that bled out his shadow. He would have his answer if he stayed in the open, but he ran for the covers and beneath the bed instead, hiding from whatever appeared in the room.
He thought himself safe under the bed, too small and insignificant to be noticed in the darkness by his prowler, but the mouse remembered that he was the intruder here - the thief sneaking about in the dead of night for food in other people's homes, and they don't take kindly to such brazen intrusion. A sweltering heat filled the room suddenly, then deep growling, Matty breathing all the harder as sweat trickled down his brow. He gulped and went deeper into the shadows, taking shelter behind molding clothing, hoping that would be enough to escape from the owner's notice. But he could feel the air around him heating up, crimson light trickling in under his feet, burning away the dark around him. What on earth were they doing, the mouse thought, panicking as he could hear the telltale crackle and lick of flame popping in his ears. Fire. Did they have a torch? Did they know he was down there hiding? If they did, were they so crazy as to set the bed on fire just to flush him out? Matty's heart was pumping, his body trembling, feet jumpy with the growing warmth of the floor under him. Whatever it was, he wasn't safe here; he had to move fast. He poked his head out from the cover of the clothing one last time to see if the coast was clear. His eyes widened in horror at the sight of four large, burnings paws just on the other end of the bed.
A fiery catlike beast put its enormous crimson head to the ground, sniffing the burning air around it as it lit the room with its burning red hide, unscarred by the fire erupting from its fur. The mouse, frozen in fear, too pained by the heat to move, watched the creature pace about the edge of the bed, head turned downward, searching for any signs of intrusion. As huge as the creature was, he couldn't hear its footsteps - at least over the flames - as it stalked him, no heavy creaking of the floor, no bending of the wood under its weight, nothing. How could something so massive seem so weightless, as if floating in air, or not even there? But the all-consuming blaze that touched nothing around it was even more unsettling; it all seemed an illusion, were it not for the heat that came so close to roasting him alive. Then he heard its deep, rumbling growl, and he found himself whimpering as he cowered behind the clothes again, huddled on the floor, trapped. Matty felt the flames licking his cheeks when the beast lunged the bed and slammed into the side, sticking its great clawed paw under the bed near him, nearly blinding the little rodent with its brilliant light. Great, Matty thought, resigned to his fate. You're trapped and you're gonna get cooked alive by a giant, flaming cat. Why did I have to steal food from the house with a giant, flaming cat? Then something stirred in the bed above him - something large that even made the cat back away. The mouse was about to breathe a sigh of relief, only to be cut off by a murmuring from above, then a loud and enraged yell.
"You!" a feminine and thundering voice bellowed above, causing himself and the burning feline to flinch. "How dare you tread within my quarters unbeckoned! What reason have you that interrupts my slumber?" Matty watched the beast put its head and front paws to the ground, neck bent, eyes lowered and ears folded back as if in apology. Then he observed its quick and exaggerated movements, its sniffing of the air and rooting of the floor, pawing and scratching at the bed and beneath it, threatening to reveal to its master his location. Even then, he wouldn't dare leave the safety of under the bed; he feared the cat, but he had greater reason to fear the worst if its owner - the one who could command this beast so easily - managed to find him. A growl of annoyance and a large, dark brown-furred foot thrust in the beast's face made Matty flinch again, wilting under the force of the blow and the irate voice that boomed in his tiny ears.
"You claw my floors and scratch at my bed like a common cat - a beast that'd make for a better minion than a sniveling servant like you." Matty gulped as the weight in the bed above shifted and moved, then two great feet touched the dirty floor. The beast slinked back, shrinking away in fear of her approach. "Craven behavior is unbefitting of the minions of Mirage - begone!" In a great flash of green smoke, the burning beast had vanished, flame, light and heat all, leaving Matty alone with the being known as Mirage, who was still unaware of his presence, at least he hoped.
Mirage put a hand to her forehead and sighed, still groggy and irate from her rude awakening. "The third to fall to my wrath this month," the cat-woman muttered darkly under her breath as she moved away from the bed and to the ash-stained floor where the creature once stood. "Three too many; a stricter disciplinary regiment is in order."
The mouse clung to the soiled clothing as he peered from the shadows and watched the broad feet of the woman in the middle of the room, her long toes clenching and flexing, clawed tips digging into the rotting beams beneath her heavy digits. He listened as she took in a deep breath, himself hiding again when he heard her gagging and coughing on the stale air of the room she resided in. "Ugh, and this dreadful smell. Why must they always soil themselves as they cower before me?" The cat-woman blinked and looked around the room, her feet shifting and moving about in circles, as if surprised she found herself present in such squalid surroundings. Then a chuckle came from her lips. "Ah. It seems my dreams have been weaving without the touch of my hand again. A little too well, it appears, given the stench. No matter. I always amend my errors." A simple clap of her hands, and the room began to shift around herself and Matty, who held onto the jumbled clothing for dear life.
New replaced the old; solid stone sprang from rotting wood, spreading from the floor to the walls and to the ceiling that stretched from a small hovel into a vast and lavish chamber; ancient hieroglyphics unknown to the mouse etched themselves into the rock, row upon row of arcane symbols glowed green beneath him as more than just the room itself transformed before his eyes. The bed above him twisted and groaned; worn boards and scratched up legs turned to ornate stone studded with precious green gems; soiled, torn and molding bedding to the finest red silk sheets befitting of sultans. Even the balled up clothing he held onto began to morph in his hands, the stale hardness of the cloth turning leathery in his grip. Matty quickly let go, watching in shock as his former cover turned red - then it arched and a portion of it dropped down and formed beneath it on the end he stood near, looking more like a pair of big red heels to him than dirty unmentionables. At least these looked and smelt more appealing to him. The finishing touches were coming together; red and yellow curtains dropped down from the pillars forming in her room near the doors; the floor bleeding red silk from the grand entrance to her sumptuous bed; the rotting fruit and flat drink on the grand table became a decadent display of plump meat and rich ripe fruit, the air smelling of fine wine, mingling with the floral scent of her footwear in the mouse's nose. Matty was awestruck, Mirage less so as she walked to the table and sat herself down, propping one leg over the other, her green eyes staring into space, bored with a spectacle she had seen a million times over.
The cat-woman drummed her fingers on the table, her perked and attentive ears twitched to the sound of her sharp claws rapping against the polished wood surface. Matty took a chance and crept forward on all fours, sticking to the looming shade of her heels while he observed the listless feline who had been eerily silent since the grand transformation of her room. He was frightened by the immense woman and her imposing visage - it was obvious to him she was a powerful woman that wielded immense might unlike any he could never hope to comprehend - yet he felt his eyes lowering, drawn to the wide sole of the dark foot that rest on her skirt covered knee, the lines in her flesh wrinkling and smoothing over in an instant before his eyes. He shook his head and grunted. Focus, he kept thinking. You're in the room of a gorgeous cat-lady with nice looking feet, feet she'll use to crush you with if she finds you. He paused and thought for a second, shaking his head again as he resisted the urge to move closer to her red heels. No - best not to do that, Matty. Not with her. The drumming of her fingers ceased, and the mouse watched Mirage as she sighed and took a handful of grapes into her hand. His gut began to growl; one by one those juicy orbs fell into her mouth, plucked from the vine by her long, dexterous tongue, himself watching with envy while he went hungry.
"Odd," Mirage said aloud between mouthfuls of grape, musing on idle thoughts. "Why would I awaken in the bedding of such a filthy hovel? My illusions are powerful and wander at rest, weaving dreams as they would reality - that much is normal. But why there? Why again?" She set the grapes aside and rest both feet on the stone ground, herself standing tall as she slowly moved away from the table. Matty below watched the gentle slopes of her feet arching, rising and falling to the floor, one after another, her toes clenched with apprehension, himself silent. Then his eyes followed her steps to what was once the cheese his stomach wished it was, now a small golden box, studded with gems. No wonder it tasted awful, the mouse thought as he watched Mirage reach down to pick it up. Matty stood up and gulped, staring at the clawed feet of the cat-woman as she stood in place, absorbed by whatever it was she was doing to the box. Then he looked at the table and the rich bounty it held. He tried to look away and back to her toes, he really did, but his hunger overrode curiosity and the tenuous grip on his own sanity. Food came first, giant cat-lady or no.
The rodent ran for dear life, claw and foot against stone, sprinting from under the cover of darkness and into the flickering torchlight of Mirage's room, exposed to all - her especially, had she not been occupied with the box she held in her claws. Her vast shadow loomed over Matty as he stepped into her curvy silhouette; a great chill crept down his little spine as he dared a glance in the direction of the towering, unaware feline and the enormous heels he ran past - the very same heels that filled him with dread when she suddenly turned around, her toes shifting and rising into the air above him. Wide eyed, he watched her firm, unblemished sole hurtling towards him, wide and plump toes splayed, ready to touch the ground, or fall upon him should he fail to reach the safety of the table in time. Closer and closer her foot came, himself panicking, pushing his hurting limbs to their limits as his wide eyes caught a glimpse of the ball of her massive foot, down to the dirt on her fur as it came slamming down onto the stone, missing his tail by a hair. Matty collapsed by the leg of the table, hand on his hammering breast, breathing deeply, thankful to be alive and unseen as Mirage came closer and sat back down, her huge toes just inches away from the mouse as he held in his breath, lungs hurting from wanting to yell out in shock.
Mirage set the box on her lap and reached inside for the contents, setting each on the table before her: a pair of worn, curled tipped shoes, ornate and hard to the touch of her soft fingertips; a tattered purple vest, stained and full of holes; and what was left of an old red fez, the top having long since gone missing. She stared long and hard at all three for what seemed an eternity, holding each in her hands one after another, feeling the caress of stiff, long decayed material against the silky fur of her palm.
"My esteemed nemesis - the challenger I longed to vanquish - how long has it been since we last crossed paths? My heart burned with the flames of hatred at the very sound of your voice, the boldness of your courage and the sting of defeat when you emerged victorious over me time and time again." She set the fez aside and took up the purple vest in her hands. "In truth I... I had underestimated you. You had proven yourself a worthy foe and I longed to see you suffer at my hand. Yet you have long since departed the moral coil, my thirst for vengeance grown stale, cheapened." Next were the shoes that found themselves in her grip. She raised one to her nose and took a deep whiff, then a quivering exhale, toes curling inward with delight as Matty winced and backed away from them, her claws digging into the hard stone, her voice barely a whisper. "Damned human, why do I pine for you so?"
This was his chance, the cat was distracted - now or never. The mouse climbed the leg of the chair, dodging the cat-woman's massive feet as they clasped the bottom part of the leg he climbed, her soles and toes grinding and rubbing against the leg and one another as she indulged herself. He scrambled up the leg of the table; the sounds of her heavy breathing, muffled moaning and lovelorn rambling filled his ears, distracting her from the sight of the unkempt mouse that reached the top of her furniture and the food he now stared at. Matty's limbs were trembling, his gut churning, mouth watering, eager to feast despite the massive feline sating her desires right behind him. He couldn't bring himself to care about Mirage - consequences be damned, food was to be had - if he did have to face her wrath, which was all but assured at this point, it would be with a full belly. He dove in for the fruit head first, cramming a juicy grape down his gullet, sucking the purple husk dry of its cool and tender flesh. His stomach and throat were grateful for sweet relief - before this perilous journey he had never known the feeling of intense hunger or the feeling of great thirst; but now he had felt his body failing on him, weakening to the point of collapse numerous times, unable to go on, only to be saved by a handful of crumbs and a drop or two of precious water. He would never take such simple things for granted ever again, should he ever survive this ordeal.
Mirage murmured; her body trembled, legs and knees quivering as she held the tattered vest to her chest and breathed deep, taking in the faintest scent of its former owner to her nose and lips, the scent of a mortal man that vexed her in the past and here again in the present, the scent that occupied her attention while the mouse gorged himself beneath her very nose. She hated the man as she hated all mortals; those that stood against her and the awesome power she wielded displeased her the most for their futile efforts merely wasted her time. Yet this one did the unthinkable - he thwarted the Queen of Evil, outwitting her cunning and devious intellect for the first time in her memory. Wicked plots were devised in anger, each crueler and fouler than the last, each intent to see his broken spirit crushed beneath her heel like all the other insects. But he emerged victorious. Embittered by humiliating defeats, she relented for a while, yet held a grudging respect for him in the end - of all the countless mortals she encountered, he easily kept her entertained. He kept her thinking on her toes, he honed her tricks and schemes to a vicious purpose, and provided apt inspiration for her hatred, a feat that, sadly, none have since come close to matching. Now deprived of her sole source of, dare she say, joy, she had grown bored, her power waning with disuse and disinterest, the prospect of sowing misery and discord on Earth now unamusing to her where it once was appealing. What was the point in trying if nobody could stop you? It seems he won in the end after all. Perhaps it was more than just his quick wit and cunning that she was jealous of; his rapt, unerring devotion to that high-class harlot of his touched a long buried nerve of hers. Mirage snarled and wrung the vest in her hands.
"A man of his caliber deserved more than that vapid mortal woman - he should have lavished me with that attention! That praise! That... That... Love." She sighed; that tingly feeling was back again, the weakness she had despised so much was welling up in her chest. Mirage swallowed hard and buried it again - she will find another to torment, another mortal soul that will fan the flames of her hatred anew and finally snuff the embers of old. But who? The cat-woman paused to think but heard the sounds of chewing coming from the table. Lowering the cloth, her green eyes scanned the food, coming to rest on a brown rodent, on Matty.
Matty looked upon her, his juice splattered jaw dropping as the feline's face twisted into a snarl, her sharp fangs bared at the unfortunate mouse. "A rat in my chambers? You picked the wrong day to crawl out of your hole, vermin!" Mirage raised her hand, claw at the ready, air around her fingers sizzling with malicious magic. The mouse scrambled to his feet, the pudge in his stomach sloshing around, slowing him down as he tried to get up and flee from the cat-woman's wrath. "Die, pest!" Mirage slashed at Matty, claws slicing through the table and the food, sending bits and pieces of wood, stone, fruit and meat flying onto the floor. The mouse fell from the top of the table, sailing through the air, shutting his eyes as the world spun around him, the ground coming closer and closer to inevitable impact. The brush of something soft and squishy hitting his back forced his eyes open, then down, as he saw a pile of food beneath him that luckily broke his fall. He was about to get up again before the ominous sight of the feline's foot rose into view above his head. Matty gulped, Mirage grinned. "A good thing all that food broke your fall. I'll take great pleasure in breaking you!"
Matty squeaked and scrambled to his feet, tripping over a half-eaten grape that sent him tumbling and falling from the pile and onto the stone floor just as her foot came hurtling down with a deafening crunch and squish that send food flying - some of it onto the astonished face of Mirage as the mouse slipped from her sight and into hiding again. The irate feline wiped the food from her face and scanned the room, her silted green eyes burning with vengeance as she stalked her chambers, searching for that annoying little pest. A part of her was infuriated with her poor display of force - the Mirage of old wouldn't have been duped by such a simple rodent. But this vermin entered the realm of Morbia - her domain in which she reigned supreme - without her notice, invaded the sanctity of her chambers and stole food from under her nose; but worst of all, he made her look sloppy. Had Lord Chaos been around to take notice of her folly, he'd never let her live it down; she would become the laughing stock of the immortal realms, an embarrassment and the butt of his never-ending jests. Even if she killed him now in the cruelest manner possible she'd still lose face, having wasted an embarrassing amount of time and energy on a common mouse. The irony of the situation wasn't lost upon her. She couldn't let word of this spread. She needed to use her head. "I'll find you yet, my vexing pest," Mirage whispered. "It's only a matter of time."
Matty breathed hard, clutching his beating chest as he hid from the sight of Mirage's feet, sticking to the shadows just as he did once before. "Okay, Matty, keep calm," he said to himself between breaths, "She's just a giant cat with magic - nothing can go wrong if I stay here." Gulping down air he fell to the floor, eyeing a nearby grape that must have rolled underneath when she tried to flatten him underfoot. A small plus, he thought, moving himself a bit closer to the fruit. At least he wouldn't starve this time if he needed to hide. He sat down there, clutching the grape in his arm, watching the feline's food stained foot pacing back and forth around the room, toes digging in and splaying against the floor, trying to wipe squashed fruit it from her dark brown fur. "For such a scary cat, she's not too good at finding me."
"Finding who?" a feminine voice next to him asked.
Matty looked at the grape and smirked. "Well, me of-" he blinked and stared at the grape. "What?"
He blinked again and Mirage appeared in its place, slightly taller than himself, just as menacing as before. The feline laughed, watching the mouse as he jumped away from her and fell on his back, crawling away from her as she approached Matty with her hands on her hips, smiling gleefully at him. "You couldn't keep your trap shut, couldn't you, pest?" Before he could shout, she disappeared in a puff of green smoke. Then he heard her cackling again, right behind him. "Perhaps all that food in your belly has made it hard for your body to move. Let me rectify that." All he heard was a snap of her fingers, then all went dark. When he appeared again he was out in the open once more and Mirage was as large and imposing as ever, lounging on the silk sheets of her bed, himself in struggling in tight chains bound to the bottom of her large foot. "We're going to have fun, mouse - payback for wasting my time."
The mad cackling of Mirage rang in Matty's ears as he struggled to free himself, but the more he squirmed, the tighter his bindings grew, constricting the movement in his limbs. The mouse glanced up - a task made difficult by the collar that was attached to his neck - to the five towering toes and the chains that held his arms and head in place, each glowing link leading to a pair of gold, emerald studded toe rings. The one fitted around her big toe held his left arm and neck in its sway, jerking both around painfully with the smallest of her movements - his right arm was the captive of her little toe, smaller than the rest, but no less powerful and just as merciless. His legs fared no better; both were bound together at the ankles, held in place by a third chain attached to a collar around her ankle. With a snap of her fingers, the mouse fell prey to the cat in a way he never imagined. Now he was her plaything - a puppet stuck to her sole, the chains string, her foot the master. Her flexible toes splayed back; a sharp cry of pain from the mouse below brought a wicked smile to Mirage's lips.
"Your suffering is sweet music to my ears, insect," the cat-woman purred. Her toes pulled back further, tugging at his little limbs; another cry of agony fell from the mouse's lips, her own mouth grew all the wider, grinning ear to ear with perverse pleasure. "Sing for me, vermin, sing loud! Let your screams carry your pain and my name to the winds!" Again and again she tugged and pulled, her toes danced and he moved with them, his lungs screaming to the quickening beat of her feet. His body arched, back rubbing into the sole of her foot, fur against fur; his arms and legs tended to the ball and heel with every jerk and pull she demanded from her little toy. Her smile quivered and a look of bliss crossed her lips as she leaned forward in her bed and exhaled. The sadist in Mirage soon subsided and a softer, more sensual purring filled the air - she took notice of the scratching of his body against her foot, the softness of his brown fur against her darker fur, the frenzied, panicked wiggling of his hands and feet against her sole, like the tickling of grass, a delightful feeling she had almost forgotten. Mirage paused; she was too eager to kill off the sole source of entertainment she had in countless ages - better to ease him in first, take pleasure in his prolonged suffering before snuffing him out like the bug he is.
"You might be more useful to me while you still breathe, worm," her massive voice boomed. The tugging of her toes ceased momentarily, and Matty caught his breath. "But do not think your suffering ends so quickly - you exist to serve as my amusement. Do not fail me in this simple task."
Matty breathed hard and gulped. Amusement? Was that all he was to her? A toy to be used and abused as she saw fit? Truth be told, there wasn't much a six inch tall mouse could do to an immensely tall and powerful cat-woman, especially while chained to the underside of said cat-woman's foot. He was terrified of her and the magic she wielded - the same magic she used to bind his body to her fuzzy dark brown sole, bound and nearly torn in two by her toes. Mirage had absolute power over him; a small gesture or the quick snap of her fingers and he would be at the mercy of whatever wickedness her evil mind could devise. Yet a small part of him, someplace deep down in his brain found the whole prospect thrilling. She was huge, intimidating, and she wasn't half-bad looking - scratch that, she was dead sexy - and she had a thing for feet. He could be killed at any time and in whatever method she pleased, or worse, but it was obvious enough to him that she had a particular idea in mind, one he himself shared a similar fondness for. Turning his wrist as best as he could, Matty's finger dug into the thick fur of her foot, scratching at the soft skin of her sole. He didn't know what possessed him to do such a thing, let alone if it would even lead to anything resembling escape. It was suicidal, but if he had to die, this would be the way to go.
Mirage's ears twitched at the touch of his tiny fingers against her foot, scratching away like little scrambling ants. Another purr filled the room, deeper than the one before as her plump toes danced, guiding the chains and his hands to wherever she needed them to be. "You learn fast, insect," she murmured, exhaling at the touch of the mouse's back against her foot, eyeing her wiggling digits with interest. "Appease the whims of the one mightier than you and you may yet live to see another day." For a feeble insect his performance was adequate, she mused - nowhere near the lofty standards she expected of even the lowest of her minions, but serviceable nonetheless. Mirage licked her lips, sensing the careful brush of the tips of his fingers against the more sensitive regions within the wrinkles of her fine sole. It seemed this one possessed some level of appreciation for one of the fairer body parts - hers in particular. It had been too long since she openly indulged her, dare she say, fascination in feet, even longer since she let others dare touch them, for fear of mortal hands marring perfection. But this mouse had a delicate touch, a touch she had longed to indulge. If this rodent wished to be her willing worshipper, why stop him? A flick of her wrist and a puff of smoke, the bindings that bound Matty to her foot were no more; he fell to the bed on his stomach and turned to face Mirage, who was met with the imposing sight of wide, towering feet and thick toes curling in towards him, a looming shadow that left him terrified and giddy. "Please your goddess, mortal. Do not keep me waiting."
Matty approached her massive feet. Each step of his faltered, trembling under the shadow of her withering aura. The alluring soles of Mirage rose high above his head, stretching into the air like dark brown towers, the clawed tips bending and swaying in the wind as he drew closer, eyes fixated on all of the appealing features that grew larger and taller and wider and more enchanting with every step. The mouse wasn't sure if it was her magic at work shrinking him or making herself larger, or if was just his imagination and libido running wild as they were prone to doing, but how he wished any of those were true - he wanted to explore her divine feet, roam the endless dips and valleys of her blemish-free soles, take in every part of her with every bit of himself, breathe in only the fragrant air of her scent and suckle her plump and succulent toes, and perhaps, should she allow it, pleasure himself to her while performing his sacred duty. In due time, he thought; Mirage's feet awaited, just inches away, nothing but the fur of her beautiful soles in his view, her sweet smell wafting in his nostrils. He reached out with both arms to hold himself to her wide foot; the brush of his hands against her silky fur sent a pleasurable chill down his spine - the touch of his hot cheek against the soft, curved arch of her large sole forced a moan from his lips, the entirety of his being quivering in her wondrous embrace.
Mirage scrunched her long, dexterous toes, the bottoms curling in to graze Matty's head, causing him to dip slightly under the heaviness of their surprisingly gentle touch. In turn, he kissed her sole; a gentle peck of his lips to her firm and fragrant skin, the fur of her foot tickling his muzzle as his mouth sank in to the wrinkles of her foot, eager to lick up the honeyed taste of her scent. Her other foot neared, not wanting to be left out of the fun; the wide part of her big toe brushed against the back of his head, shoving him further into her sole, incisors nipping at her luscious meat as the clawed tip traveled down his back, scratching into his skin. The mouse's loins brushed against the lower part of her sole, digging in to her soft fur and the flesh of her heel, thrusting into it, adding to his own mounting pleasure and her own. Her clawed hands gripped the bedding beneath her, tighter and tighter as her head tilted back, panting, heart racing with his devoted ministrations. By the kindness of fate she chanced upon a once in a millennium find: a devoted servant who shared her obsession with the pleasures of the sole, a willing mortal that met her refined pleasures and answered with elegance and handled her with finesse. He was obedient and willing, if small and timid. The whole of her body quivered, the room filling with the sound of purring and moaning, then lustful whimpering and her collapsing on her bed, satisfied. He was perfect.
Fluttering her green eyes, the feline licked her lips, the throes of passion subsiding. She put a hand to her chest and breathed deep, taking in air through her nostrils as her body relaxed upon her silk sheets, her feet still trembling within Matty's little hands. The lustful rodent clutched both in his greedy fingers, groping the sides of each like a plump woman's ass, squeezing the meatiest portions in his eager grip. His groin met the touch of one foot, prick pumping away at her thick heel while his nose and lips tasted the other sole, sampling its fragrant smells and exquisite tastes before both parts switched to the opposite sole, leaving his mark on the other before switching yet again and a third time after that. He left a wonderful mess on her pristine feet, now tainted by mortal saliva, sweat and virile spunk - a mess he tried to clean all on his own without her asking, a task that brought an uncharacteristic warm smile to her lips. Pulling herself up at last, Mirage ran a hand though her thick black hair, watching a soiled Matty as he fell to the bed on his back, exhausted, a blissful look on his tired face. Then a snap of her fingers - he appeared again in a cloud of smoke, brown fur spotless as before, head wedged between two of her big toes. She looked upon him and laughed, squeezing her digits into his tiny head like a vise. "It appears I was hasty in my initial judgment of you, mortal. Despite your repulsive appearance, you have managed to more than earn my favor."
"G-Great," the mouse gasped, struggling to breathe. Her toes held him firmly in place, pressing hard into his skull, hands gripping the sides of her wide digits, the rest of him resting against her sole.
Mirage grinned wickedly, more mischievous now than the outright maliciousness from before. "Not many can say they pleased an immortal, especially a mortal that is not human." She leaned in closer, her green eyes glittering, fixated on Matty. "You've exceeded my admittedly low expectations - a surprise I wasn't expecting." Closer now; her gorgeous visage filled his view. Then her mouth widened, plush lips puckering into a kiss that pecked then covered the mouse's face, swallowing his head and two of her toes into her mouth. In darkness the mouse gagged, coughing on warm saliva and hot breath, her long tongue lapping his drenched fur and her two digits. The sound of her moaning filled his ears, then the nip of her sharp teeth against his skin before she finally pulled away. From out her mouth Matty and her toes emerged, spotless and dry as if it never occurred, ending with another sly smile. "I suppose I should reward you, rodent." Another snap of her fingers - he materialized on the bed again, head facing the ceiling, Mirage looking down on him as she lay on her stomach, clawed finger to his belly.
Her finger stroked his stomach and then his chest, her green eyes fluttering in his face, hot air from her nostrils blowing in his face. "I've been missing something, mortal," the feline began, keeping her voice to a whisper even in his ears. "My minions have been... ill-disciplined as of late. But you, insect - you have performed admirably for a rodent, a quality my host has been sorely lacking." Her finger moved lower, claw digging into his chest, then his stomach, then sharply on his groin. The mouse winced, her grin widened, lips moving closer. "Having a mortal servant would liven things up; you might even relieve me of my growing ennui. Wouldn't it be a thrill to serve me for all time, as you had this night?"
The mouse suppressed the urge to move his hips, for fear of her claw puncturing his precious cargo. He looked into her green eyes, then nodded. "I... I guess I don't have much to lose."
Mirage smiled, lips drawing back to a tooth filled smirk. "Only everything to gain." Her claw glowed green, heat building in his groin, not like the heat of passion, but of energy that trickled into the rest of his body. All at once he went cold then numb, everything fading to black, silence, all sensation gone for but an instant before returning with a slightly cooler warmth, his little eyes glowing before returning to their usual color. "You are mine now to command as I please. Serve me well, and we may share more... intimate nights like tonight." Mirage looked him over again, eyeing his little body hungrily, sensing a little of her within him now, tainting him with her presence, a thought that brought her great amusement. "What say you, rodent?"
Matty smirked and raised a hand. "I say thanks for the job, but I'm out of here!" A click of his fingers, and he was gone from her room.
Mirage blinked then flew into a rage; her green claws slashed at her bed, slicing through the stone sending pieces of it and the studded gems all over as she hissed and screamed in anger, boiling mad at falling for the mouse's deception. How could she have been tricked by a damned mouse? was all she kept thinking, furious at herself for lowering her guard, for baring herself to him and giving in to his indulgences and her passions. How far had she fallen, that a mere rodent could trick her out of the smallest portion of her power and escape from her clutches? Staggering to the previously broken table, her chambers a mess, she clutched the chair and then her head as she sat down, her pounding skull now riddled with confusion, frustration and pain.
"How? How did he...?" She knew the answer - she let her guard down and he took advantage of it - but she couldn't accept that. There had to be more at play than just her stupidity. "He tricked me," she muttered. "Just like-" Her eyes lit up and the feline went still - a revelation: Mirage found him at last, one that could outwit her, outsmart her cunning even her even at her lowest point. "Just like him."
In the midst of her anger, she couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of this latest twist in fate; a second chance at power, a second chance at regaining her former glory in the form of Matty, an opponent that held a portion of her within him - a fraction of her cunning and a mote of her power, along his own crafty tricks. She would have to hunt him down, in time, and take back what was rightfully hers. She'll let him scurry to his hole, for now, content with the little scrap of might he stole from her. With a flick of her wrist, Mirage summoned her scrying ball, seeing through its swirling mists, eyeing the wily Matty who was now back on Earth, herself grinning wide, a new light burning in her eyes. She had a plot to plan.