Brings you home with her

I squeezed my eyes shut as I was plucked from my cave. Billowing imprints of light and shadow had already burned into my retinas and now echoed on the insides of my eyelids.

"Hello my little one. Did you make it through the journey all right?" asked Mrs Scott in a melodic voice, still ignorant of my ordeal.

She left the question hanging in space for a while, the dead silence enough of an answer for me. Not that I could have done much else.

My eyes had slowly recovered from the shock, and I could make out the blurred silhouette of Mrs Scott in front of me, illuminated by the dim light of an overhead lamp above me. I myself was lying in an open foetal position on a table or cupboard of dark and smoothly polished wood. My surroundings seemed to be that of a dressing room as coats, scarves and hats hanging on the walls slowly rendered into reality.

The towering form of Mrs Scott leaned down to me, concern written on her gigantic face.

"Hey. Davey... Speak to me, please..." Her happy crooning had given way to a more pleading and anxious tone.

Her caring response as well as her show of vulnerability had a soothing effect on my body.

In an effort, I weakly raised my left arm while focusing her brown Swiss-ball-sized eyes with my blacks.

"Oh gosh... I'm glad. I was beginning to think I had overdone it." Mrs Scott laughed in relief, causing a wave of her warm breath to flow over my body and blossom some life in my cold limbs.

"Not that you misunderstand me. You look pretty banged up, dear… And I am sorry… for shaking you around in there. But other people would have noticed if I kept you propped up like that…" Her words and expression seemed genuine. I still felt hurt and mistreated inside me; nothing some words are going to fix. “Okay, Davey?”

I nodded and hinted a small smile, to which she rewarded me with a radiant beam, showing off her pearly white teeth, big as gravestones. The sight flustered me a little.

"Very good! I bet you're hungry. I've got your school stuff in the car… don't know if you brought any food and I'd better make you something fresh though, okay?" Both her concerned reaction and her cheerful sing-song were two of Mrs Scott's personalities I had never laid eyes on, but preferred worlds over in my situation.

Her usual manner consisted of stern and authoritative behaviour speckled with a merciless sadism, just formal enough not to incite angry parents and head-shaking colleagues.

Before any of this I never really thought of her as a whole person, which became unpleasantly clear right now. The fact that I experienced her always playing the same role in the same context made me forget that there was a whole life of experience and complexity behind that pretty face and massive bust. A life I had no single clue about.

A finger as thick as a tree trunk nudged me, jolting me out of my musings before gently pushing me onto the waiting palm behind me. The warm, leathery skin nestled against my icy body, breathing needed life into me far too slowly.

"Are you cold, little one?" Mrs Scott held me directly under her left eye, seeming now finally to recognise the convulsive shivering that plagued my body. An elegant forefinger gently stroked me, from my temple, down my bare arm and chest. I had relegated my nakedness to the depths of the back of my head since the coat pocket action, and even now, despite intense physical contact, I remained ignorant of the intimacy I shared with her.

Like many things in life, not thinking about it seems to make them easier.

"Oh God, Davey! You're a block of ice. Say something, silly, you're getting sick like that!"

Her other hand laid over me, gently pressing me into her fragrant feminine skin. As soon as she had formed a small pocket with her hands, in the rearmost part of which I was - gently squeezed in but nothing uncomfortable - she blew slightly humid and hot air into my face. Her breath slightly stung my eyes but was otherwise odourless and set off a blissful tingling throughout my body as the breeze wisped through the cavity and enveloped my small form.

It was like a thousand greedy fingers feeling their way along my trembling body, caressing every corner, however intimate, with warm kisses.

It stung a little at first as more blood rushed into my cold limbs, like hosts of red soldiers led by a mighty war goddess in a battle against the beasts of the north that had taken hold of my bones. However, as Mrs Scott repeatedly fed me her hot breath, the last cold spark at her unquestioning command died, replaced by weary warmth and security.

You don't appreciate the otherwise normal relaxing warmth of the human body unless you were on the verge of freezing. I felt as if reborn: the stubborn pain that tormented me with every movement was now only a dull pressure in my back, arms and legs. Rigid joints were well oiled again, the steel press around my head had given way to punctual hammering at my temples. I took a deep breath of the warm air around me, refreshing my body like an elixir of life.

I felt abject gratitude swell up inside me and saw Mrs Scott like a benevolent angel, saving me from unspeakable evil, taking me into her care like a lost puppy.

The conscious and thinking part of myself tried to deny this reaction, to blame it on a moment of weakness. It was stupid and illogical. Mrs Scott was the one who got me into this in the first place with her reckless behaviour. Why should I be grateful for her helping me up and putting a plaster on my knee when she tripped me in the first place?

Mrs Scott carried me into the depths of her home as she continued to blow warm breath at me. From my hiding place I could not see much of the surroundings, but her full lips. Furthermore, I kept my eyes half closed to minimise the stinging of the wind. She had removed her high heels when all I could hear was the dull tapping of feet beneath me.

The fleshy roof above me lifted, revealing a light-filled room. A few framed oil paintings and cabinets were on the walls, a window whose view was obscured by a leafy tree, a piano to the right and a light brown wooden dining table in the middle of the room.

"Feeling better, Davey?" whispered Mrs Scott above me as an elephantine finger stroked my back.

I still had a feverish feeling in my head, glowing with sharp hammers hitting my temples. Nonetheless, I nodded dutifully, which was accompanied by a joyful hum from Mrs Scott.

"Great!" She smiled at me "It's very, very important that you stay healthy, Davey. And, that you communicate with me. It’s pretty dangerous out there if you are this small… further we don’t know if you might change further. Okay?"

I nodded again, even as a venomous reply burned on my tongue that it was hard to communicate when you were stuffed in the stifling heat a breast pocket.

"Great. I'll go and see what I've to eat. Have a look around if you want, I'll be right back..." Mrs Scott deposited me on the cold smooth wood of the dining table and disappeared through a door to my right.

I shook my arms and legs to retain some of Mrs Scott's warmth as I took a few testing steps on the football field sized plain. The leafy tree covered much of my view out the window, but I could still glimpse the downtown skyscrapers in the distance that I passed every day on my way to school. Like an anchor into my real life, the recognition of familiar buildings gave me security in this foreign world.

I could guess roughly, where I was and how I might find my way back to my own flat, assuming I had a way to cope with the cold of the outside world.

Regarding that, I saw a pack of tissues in the shadow of the pile of papers on the dining table, and an idea formed in my head.

Before I could take any further steps, however, Mrs Scott came strutting back, a white porcelain bowl in her right hand and a steaming teapot and cup in her left.

"Enjoying exploring?" she asked me with an endearing smile as she caught sight of my naked form.

"Uh... Mhm" came my croaked reply, which she acknowledged with a smirk.

Mrs Scott took a seat on a chair, and placed her souvenirs in front of me, the thud of the porcelain on the wood echoing painfully in my ears.

"I found a few things I thought you might like, dear." Mrs Scott continued as she fished around in the bowl and placed a ripe strawberry and a carrot in front of me.

"Let's start with your biting power." The carrot rumbled across the table as Mrs Scott pushed it towards me with one finger, then looked at me, spellbound. Unsure exactly what she expected me to do, I took a tentative step towards the vegetable, and knelt in front of it. The width of the carrot came up to my knees when I stood; when I knelt, I could almost fully hide behind it. It was bitingly cold as I felt the smooth skin with my hand and shivered involuntarily. Fresh from the fridge.

As if she could read my mind, the warm pillow of her left hand wrapped halfway around my body from behind and temporarily chased away the cold.

My gaze lifted briefly over the carrot to her face on the horizon, and she gave me a playful wink. She was an alluring woman, her physical maturity giving it a sexy edge.

Still, I felt myself unable to take a bite out of the carrot. There were things that my body deemed much more important than food at the moment. I needed clarity about this whole situation, couldn’t play this game any longer. She must feel the same way, mustn’t she?

“Everything alright, Davey?” There was a concerned furrow of her forehead, as Mrs Scott leaned closer. “Something happening to your body again?”

“No… I-It’s … I… W-What do you want from me?”

There were probably better ways to formulate my need, but at least I felt relieve asking what burned on my mind.