The weight of James’s foot pinned Dylan in suffocating darkness, the warm, calloused sole pressing just enough to trap him without crushing his tiny form. His heart hammered, each beat a frantic plea for survival. “Stay calm, stay calm,” Dylan whispered, his voice barely audible, muffled against the giant’s skin. “He doesn’t know I’m here. Just… wait it out.”
Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the room, slicing through the oppressive silence. Dylan’s breath caught as the weight above him shifted. The foot lifted, cool air rushing over him like a lifeline. He gasped, scrambling to his knees on the hardwood floor beneath James’s desk, his tiny body trembling from the close call.
“Yo, James!” a voice called from the doorway. Dylan peeked out, spotting a lanky guy with a backwards cap leaning against the frame—James’s friend, probably. “You got a sec? I’m tryna figure out if you’re still down for the game tonight or if you’re bailing again.”
James’s chair creaked as he stood, his massive form rising like a mountain. “Nah, I’m out, Mike,” James replied, his voice casual, oblivious to the tiny figure cowering below.
Dylan didn’t wait to hear the rest. Now’s my chance to hide somewhere, he thought, adrenaline surging. He darted from under the desk, his bare feet slapping against the floor as he sprinted toward the bathroom door, slightly ajar. His eyes scanned the room frantically—too open, too exposed. The bathroom was his best bet. He slipped through the gap, heart pounding, and spotted the toilet in the corner. Up there. Higher ground.
Gritting his teeth, Dylan clambered up the porcelain base, using the ridges for grip. His tiny hands shook as he hauled himself onto the toilet seat, crouching low. The cold, smooth surface felt like a precarious sanctuary. He pressed himself against the rim, trying to steady his breathing. Safe for now. Just stay quiet.
From outside, the front door slammed shut, the sound reverberating through the house. Dylan froze. Heavy footsteps thudded closer, and the bedroom door clicked shut. James was back. Dylan’s stomach twisted, his anxiety spiking. He’s coming this way. Shit, shit, shit.
The bathroom door swung open, and James stepped inside, his presence filling the small space like a storm cloud. Dylan shrank back, his eyes wide as James shut the door behind him with a soft click. The giant didn’t notice him—didn’t even glance down. Instead, James stepped toward the toilet, his hands moving to the waistband of his underwer. Dylan’s heart stopped as James tugged his underwear down slightly, revealing himself. The sight was overwhelming from Dylan’s tiny perspective—James’s massive form loomed over the toilet, his dick out, aimed directly at the bowl where Dylan crouched.
A powerful stream of piss hit the water below, the sound deafening to Dylan’s heightened senses. The force of James’s footsteps had already unbalanced him, and now, as the giant shifted his weight, the vibration sent Dylan teetering. “No, no, no!” Dylan gasped, clawing at the slick toilet seat, but it was no use. He slipped, tumbling backward into the cold, churning water of the toilet bowl with a tiny splash.
The world became a chaotic blur of water and sound. Dylan flailed, his limbs thrashing as he fought to keep his head above the surface. Above him, James stood like an oblivious titan, his stream still pouring into the bowl, the liquid swirling dangerously close. Dylan’s eyes stung, his lungs burning as he sputtered, kicking against the current. The sheer scale of James was terrifying—his dick, the casual arc of his piss, the way his body blocked out the light. Dylan was nothing in this moment, a speck caught in a giant’s routine.
He doesn’t know I’m here, Dylan thought, panic clawing at his mind. If he flushes… I’m done. He swam desperately toward the edge of the bowl, his tiny hands scrabbling for anything to hold onto, all while James’s oblivious act continued above him.
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