Description:

In a world where women stand hundreds of feet tall, Sarah Lewis has become the Giantess Execution Marshall. Once known on campus as Sorry Sarah, she now sits in judgment over the men who have harmed or endangered others. When the warning has already been given, the sentence is simple and final: her sneaker.

From the dock beneath her bench, they look up at three hundred feet of black robe and white rubber and learn exactly what it means to be under her shoe. Each case brings another familiar face from her past into her arena, and each one discovers that the gentle girl they remember is long gone.

(300-ft giantess, tiny men, foot crushing, giantess university, execution, size difference, power exchange, sneaker crush)

Excerpt:

Cliff Sutter stood in the dock with his hands on the rail. The dock was a tray bolted to the lip of Sarah’s bench, with a gate at the back and a lamp clipped to one side. He was fifty-two, and the top of his head came up to the second crossed lace of her left sneaker. She remembered him, sitting smugly on the Alpha Delta platform back at school.

Sarah Lewis did not bend down. She was three hundred feet tall in the robe, and a bend put her face over the whole well. She stayed in the chair, the black robe long enough that the hem rested on the step.

Under it she had on the white sneakers, thick soles, deep tread, the same pair she wore when she meant to finish a docket. The left one sat on the step below the bench, close enough that Sutter could see the stitching.

The clerk read the charges from a nearby speaker. Three counts of scale-endangerment for profit. One count of paying a woman to miss her step.

“You ran a book,” Sarah said. Her voice carried without her raising it. “Odds on whether a girl crossing the east quad would hit a man on the way to the tram. Then you stopped waiting for it to happen, and you paid Marcie Quinn to come close on purpose.”

Sutter looked at the sneaker first, then up the robe, then at her face. He had to tip his head all the way back. Her glasses caught the lamp and the braid hung over the front of the robe.

“I paid for a show,” he said. “People watch near-misses. You know that. They had a name for you on campus.”

Sarah set her heel more firmly on the step. The tread creaked and to her it was a small sound.

“They called you Sorry,” Sutter said, smiling. “Sorry Sarah. You wrote all about it in that diary Billy took pictures of back in the day. And now I’m supposed to think that same girl puts men under her shoe now.”

“You are supposed to hear the sentence,” she said. She put two fingers on the lace and pulled the bow loose. The cord dropped in a coil thicker than his arm. “You can give me Quinn’s buyers and close the book, and I’ll consider letting you leave. Or you can keep rigging the bets, and you go under this shoe. The tread blocks are as wide as the bunk you slept in. I am the Giantess Execution Marshall for this region. Right now, you have a choice.”

He laughed once. “You’re not going to step on me over a betting sheet.”

“Four men are in the hospital and one of them will never walk again. You had a price list.” She drew the loose lace out of the eyelet so the tongue of the sneaker sagged. “If you mean to keep the path, as it were, say so. I will not argue this with you.”

Other Info:

4,992 words

Originally Published October 10th, 2026

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