NANNY
A story by Pril

1
"But I just told you I don't want to take a bath now. What's the matter? You don't understand English?"
"I do, sir," she answered with a little apprehension. "But I was told by Mrs. Williams that seven thirty was the time for your bath, right before dinner, and that it was my duty to make sure that not only you'd take it, but also that you'd be impeccably clean."
"Well," he answered with exasperation, "That might be what she told you, but I'm the man and breadwinner of this house and the final word is mine. And my final word is that I'm not going to take any bath. Do you get that, my child?"
Since early that morning, Brenda had been living the strangest day of her life.
At about eight o'clock the phone had rung in her little downtown apartment. A bit surprised to get a phone call so early in the morning, she had the pleasure to hear Ms. Marison's voice on the other side. It had been some good many months since she had last talked to her dear ex teacher, who, for two long years, had trained her in the secrets of child behavior. Brenda was a certified kindergarten teacher who had been so successful in her short career that she ended up working privately for different rich families as a child-minder, thus making a reasonably comfortable living.
Still young, she considered all her life ahead of her. She was also an extremely beautiful woman who, nonetheless, kept a low profile by rarely wearing ostensible clothes or much make-up. Although six foot tall, thin, and extremely well proportioned, naturalness more than attraction was what people appreciated in her. Her gesture was graceful, her manner well measured. That was partly what made her so successful with children and their parents. She was quick to smile and extremely careful in her comments. But, as those who knew her well would testify, she could also be completely firm and intransigent about things she considered important. At the end of the day, it was her will that was finally imposed, and not that of the people who tried to get away with an attitude below her standards.
All these features had made young Brenda the dearest protege of Ms. Marison, who had time and again provided her with job opportunities until she could stand on her own feet. And now, after a longish time, she had decided to call her again for a most special offer very few people actually could know about.
"Is it a child prodigy?" Brenda couldn't hold her curiosity.
"No, dear," was Ms. Marison's kind reply. "I can assure you that you wouldn't be able to guess what I'm talking about in a thousand years.
About an hour later, at the elderly woman's house and with a princely breakfast on the table, Brenda didn't make any efforts not to show how surprised she was at the whole story.
It had been rumored for quite a long time that a strange virus had spread some time ago, first far away and later closer by. Apparently there had been some people who had been attacked by a strangest ailment that made them shrink to a tiny fraction of their original sizes. The newspapers had offered huge amounts of money for the scoop, and some blurred photographs had appeared here and there, but there had been no official confirmation whatsoever of such allegations, and the rumor finally died away.
"Oh, yes," Brenda said. "I remember all about it. I think it was all a big lie, wasn't it?"
"Well, my dear," Ms. Marison sweetly answered, "you are going to have to change your opinion."
The old teacher, who also knew many people, had an old friend who had married some years ago to some kind of libertine that had made her life impossible. They had lost touch a long time ago, but she had just been called by the woman the previous night.
"Sonia, my friend," Ms. Marison explained, "told me her husband had been attacked by the strange virus a few months ago. I would have never believed such a statement hadn't it been for the fact that I know Sonia so well. You see," Ms. Marison continued, "we went together to university and she's been a dear friend ever since. I also attended their wedding and I remember to this day what a poor impression her husband made upon me and everybody else. But, I guess, being good looking and something like fifteen years younger than her, Sonia just couldn't help falling in love and letting him do whatever he wanted."
"And what happened now?" Brenda wanted to know.
"Well, apparently," Ms. Marison went on, "he's been shrunk a few weeks ago and, ever since then, she just doesn't know what on earth to do with him. She says he's become the most spoilt and bitter of people. He seems to be driving everyone crazy in the household and she can't hold the situation any longer. So much so that she badly needs a vacation and someone to take care of him in the meantime."
"I see." Brenda said.
"Brenda," Ms. Marison said with emotion. "You are the best person I can think of for such an important, even revolutionary task. I've always trusted you and I know you'll do a fine job. I even have hopes you'll be able to help the little man and revert part of his rebellious behavior."
"Well." Brenda hesitated. "I don't really know."
"Nonsense," Ms. Marison interrupted. "I know you too well to accept any misgivings from you. And I also know how rich the Williamses are. Believe me, Brenda, you'll get more money for two weeks' work than for an entire year."
"But I know nothing about adults."
"I'm sure you'll learn what to do very quickly. Anyway, from what I gather, Mr. Williams doesn't seem to behave very differently from an ill-mannered child these days, not to mention his ridiculous size: twelve inches!"
"What?" Brenda cried.
"Yes, my child," Ms. Marison said. "The man is only one foot tall and, although I haven't seen him myself, I've been told he's quite a sight."
"Twelve inches." Brenda said in disbelief.
The rest of the morning had been spent on some last minute errands and the packing of a couple of suitcases with clothes for two weeks. The Williamses lived quite far from Brenda's town and there would be at least a couple of hours' fast drive to get there. At around three o'clock, she found the mansion she was looking for. It was a huge white house, well hidden in the forest, surrounded by great extensions of wild trees. Brenda got out of her car, stretched her long legs and fitting skirt after the long trip, looked at her white face on a tiny mirror, and rang the big bell at the entrance.
She was surprised when Mrs. Williams herself opened the door for her. She was a woman of about fifty, still beautiful, with kind, sad eyes that expressed all the unhappiness of fifteen years of bad marriage and the latest undeserved ordeal. The huge house, exquisitely decorated, was quite empty of people. The woman gently led Brenda into the large living room, where a nicely set tea table was waiting for them. As an elderly woman (the only servant left in the house) served them, Mrs. Williams proceeded to explain her sad story to her young visitor.
"Oh, I wish I could change my past," she said with wet eyes. "He was so handsome and considerate. I was already thirty-five and starting to get worried about never finding the right man for me. Little did I know that he was fooling me, that he was thinking of my money and possessions. I still love him and think he's a good man, but, God, he's made me suffer so." she stopped to dry a tear or two and continued.
"And now, a few months ago, when at least I was used to things being the way they were, this. this curse that made my husband shrink to such a ridiculous size and wounded his pride in such a way that he can't tolerate the sight of anybody. He's become so aggressive, so intolerant and sour. You can't talk to him without getting shouted at or insulted. All my servants left the house in a panic, after years and years of faithful work."
The woman talked so genuinely that Brenda couldn't help feeling a wave of sympathy for her.
"And that's when I decided to phone dear Gwen," Sonia Williams explained, calling Ms. Marison by her first name. "She's always been a good friend of mine and I knew she'd find the right person to deal with my husband in his peculiar condition. You look so pretty and kind, dear," Mrs. Williams said to Brenda. "How old are you, my child?"
"Twenty-five, ma'am," Brenda answered respectfully.
"And I understand you have plenty of experience as a nanny, dear?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Brenda said. "Although I can imagine this is quite different."
"Of course, of course, dear," Mrs. Williams hurried to say. "But he needs an awful lot of patience and dedication, you see. Almost as a child does."
"I see."
"And I'm at the very end of my tether, dear," Mrs. Williams went on. "I do need a couple of weeks off. The situation as it is, is completely intolerable."
Suddenly, out of the blue, a sharp shriek was heard nearby,
"You fucking stupid cow!! How many times have I told you to stay out of my way?"
Brenda was shocked to hear both the words and the strange voice. The little man, making an unexpected appearance in the living room, had just finished shouting at the old woman that had just served the ladies tea.
Shocked as Brenda seemed to be at the thin voice, she looked almost blown off her feet at the sight of the man that had just uttered the rude statement. He was as tiny as he had been described, only that he was now flesh and bones, and not only a story. Twelve inches tall and perfectly proportioned, as when he had been his normal size, Mr. Williams was literally a living Barbie doll, moving about in a most fascinating way.
Looking still embarrassed after such an opening, Mrs. Williams said to her husband,
"Oh, Albert, darling. Please come and meet Brenda. She's the lovely young woman I told you Gwen had recommended to look after you when I'm away."
The little man got slowly closer to both ladies, still sitting on the sofa, and looked at the younger one for a long time. Too long, was the first thing that came to Brenda's mind, once she seemed to recover from the shocking beginning. She suddenly felt she should have put some other clothes on for their first encounter. Maybe wear pants instead of the fitting skirt. She felt gigantic next to this tiny man, which was a strange feeling indeed. But for some reason, she recovered quite quickly. Also, she couldn't help thinking, he would be able to look straight at her panties if she got up. Finally, she said,
"Hello, Mr. Williams, nice to meet you," and, after an uncomfortable second she decided to stretch her hand toward the little man.
But he just looked at her and her hand with sarcastic indifference talking, instead, to his wife,
"What are you bringing children here for?"
"Oh, Albert, please," Mrs. Williams pleaded. "Can't you try and be more polite at least this once? Brenda will be taking care of you for two whole weeks, and I'm sure she'll help and be here for you for whatever you might need."
"I don't need anything," the midget shouted at the top of his voice. "What I need is those useless doctors of yours to find a cure to this fucking @!#$ I must have gotten from you!"
"Oh, Albert, please." Mrs. Williams said, almost crying.
"Oh, do me a favor and spare me your cheap show," he continued cruelly. "You want to bring young girls to play the nanny with me? Suit yourself. Just make it plain clear that she's to be at my service twenty-four hours a day, and that she has to call me 'sir' and all that @!#$ I always expect from my servants. Is that clear, Sonia?"
"Of course, darling," his frightened wife answered.
Well, that's some cheek, Brenda found herself thinking with indignation.
As suddenly as he had turned up, the little man disappeared again, leaving the ladies to discuss the rest of their contract. Brenda was offered an incredible sum of money for such a short-term job, which hardly demanded anything from her, except devote herself to the little man's needs and his wellbeing.
Nonetheless, used as she was to working with children and their obligations toward their nanny, Brenda saw fit to demand certain guarantees necessary to give her the authority to implement the very demands she had been hired for.
"I'm afraid I need to ask you for your permission to make sure that I carry out my duties in a most effective way, even if I have to insist at the expense of a temporary whim of your husband," she explained. "You see, ma'am, what should I do in case I need to make sure that Mr. Williams is ready for dinner at eight o'clock if all of a sudden he decides to go somewhere else instead?"
"Well, dear." Mrs. Williams hesitated, "I guess you're right. Obviously there has to be some order, doesn't there? Yes. I agree. As long as the guidelines are followed you should grant him all the freedom he needs, but I think it's only fair that also you know where you are at every time. I only hope he doesn't get out of hand. It's been so hard for me to handle him."
"Don't worry, ma'am," Brenda reassured her, a faint smile on her lips. "You can leave that in my hands. I'll do my best to make your life easier once you come back from your holidays. I'm sure my experience with children will be of great help in dealing with your husband."
"Oh, dear," Mrs. Williams said, "I really hope so," she smiled.
They finally agreed to let Brenda and little Mr. Williams spend the evening together until dinner to see how they got along. In the meantime, the wife would go out to town to sort out some last minute arrangements, coming back home for dinner later. Then the three of them would have dinner together to smooth out details right before Mrs. Williams' trip, later that night.
And, from then on, the ridiculous nightmare had started. For the last three hours, the little man had driven poor Brenda literally crazy with his constant demands: bring me this, bring me that; put this here and later there; look, don't look; put the TV on and then off; don't sit on that armchair, don't cross your legs when you're in front of me; open that door, close that window; don't be silly, stupid, an ass, a jerk; you're only a child, you know nothing about anything; that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard; who taught you that? You don't understand English; you don't know what a woman is, a man is, a house is, a brain is.
For three never-ending hours Brenda had been belittled, offended, abused, and insulted in a way she wasn't used to any more. The little millionaire was simply one of the most verbally abusive bastard she'd ever seen. And she had no guarantees that at his normal size he could have also not been violent. In fact, she wouldn't have been surprised if that had been the case at all.
Finally, she had mustered courage and slowly started to counterattack, if only in holding more firmly the timetable she had committed herself to delivering. And now, this little pre-shower scene was taking place.
"So, read my lips," he finished. "I'm not taking that bath. Now," he rudely said, "out of here!"
They were standing in front of each other and it was quite a view. The little 12-inch-tall man, wearing the expensive casual clothes especially made for him, was aiming an accusing finger at the impossibly 6-foot tall Brenda, who was looking down at the little man with a mixture of confusion and amusement.
"I'm very sorry, sir," she insisted, "But I've been asked to make sure you're ready on time, and I take it as my duty to ensure the effective carrying out of my orders. I'd like to ask you to be cooperative, sir."
"Oh, get out of here, you clown," was his snappish answer. And he turned around and started to walk away. Brenda, feeling she'd had enough, slowly stepped forward to catch up within a second with the little man's quick, little steps, and blocked his way with her massive legs. This was getting out of hand.
"I'm awfully sorry, sir," she said, looking down at the midget, "But I've also been instructed not to allow any scornful comments or nicknames, like the one you just called me."
"Out of my way!" he shouted hysterically.
"Oh, no, sir," was her calm answer. "Either you head for the bathroom or I'll have to carry you there myself."
"You won't dare touch me, bitch!"
Brenda, considering all the barriers had been crossed, slowly lowered her outstretched hand, opening it to wrap the man's little body.
"No! No! You, bitch! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" he shouted as he tried to get away. But then, when seeing himself inevitably trapped and secured in her powerful hand, his shouts turned from angry into desperate. "Sonia! Oh, please, Sonia, help me!"
"Your wife isn't home, sir," Brenda calmly answered. "All your shouting will make your situation only worse. I strongly suggest you relax a little, sir."
Still out of control, little Mr. Williams continued to scream and kick in the air, banging frantically her huge hand with his tiny fists. Brenda wasn't moved in the least; she would have preferred him to be more cooperative, but she wasn't ready to ruin her new strange career by not doing what she was told to. Whether he liked it or not, Mrs. Williams had been quite clear in her instructions and had actually agreed to give her the authority necessary for her job.
Still holding the little rebel tightly in her hand, Brenda walked calmly into the luxurious bathroom, put the plug into the sink drain and filled it up with warm water. There seemed to be no special soaps or towels around adapted to Mr. Williams' size, so she just concluded he'd have to manage with whatever was available.
"Now, sir," she said, raising her kicking captive to eye level, "Will you calm down and get undressed and wash as I wait outside, or would you prefer me to take care of it personally?"
"Put me down! Put me down, you whore!" was all the screaming she got for an answer.
"Very well, sir," she continued. "You can't say I didn't ask you."
And, not thinking twice about the humiliating effect on the little magnate about being stripped by the hands of a commoner, Brenda proceeded to take off his clothes. She was hardly surprised at the deftness of her own movements. Using her long, thin fingers, and the long nails that crowned them, she slowly removed every piece of garment the tiny man had on, from shirt to shoes. Realizing that the more he kicked the more he was exposing his delicate skin to the deadly scratch of ten huge, sharp nails, little Albert instinctively stopped his act. Somewhat to his surprise, he found himself not altogether uncomfortable in the vibrant grip of his captor. This was immediately sensed by Brenda, which only gave her more confidence in her task, and even made her smile a little.
"Everything all right, sir?" she ventured.
"Don't talk to me!" he demanded. "Just finish your damn job and let me take my bath in peace."
Once completely naked, little Mr. Williams covering his crotch with his hands, Brenda gently placed him on the sink border and said,
"What shall I do now, sir?"
"Get out of the bath and come back when I call you" was his moody answer.
"With pleasure, sir," she said. "Only that I was told I'd have to make sure you are ready and properly dressed for dinner by eight o'clock. So I'd just like to remind you that I'll wait for your call but only until ten minutes before eight. I'll need to check that you are impeccably clean (as I was instructed to do) and help you with your clothes.
"Look here, Brenda, or whatever you are called, I'm not going to take this @!#$ from any little."
"Ten to eight, sir," she cut him in the middle of his sentence and walked out of the bathroom.
Damn the bitch, he thought to himself as he saw the giant young woman make her calm retreat. I'll kill Sonia for this. Who does she think she is? We must be paying her a ton of money for her job and see what she's doing to me. Besides, how old is she? Twenty? Twenty-two? Do I have to take that crap from someone fifteen years my junior? I'll give her what for!
Suddenly realizing he was wasting time with this self-questioning while getting cold, he decided to get into the warm water and try and relax. After a few minutes of leisurely water treading, he came out to get the small bar of soap lying on the dish. But when reaching it, the stupid thing slipped off his hands and went rolling down to the floor.
"@!#$!" he said. "How on earth am I going to get that back?" He looked down but there was no way to climb down the fine marble structure without risking braking his neck in the process. For a moment he thought of calling Brenda to get it for him, but he wasn't in the mood to ask favors, plus he hated exposing his nakedness to her. He'd have to wash with just hot water tonight, and that's it. He went into the warm pool-sized sink again and continued his relaxing bath.
At seven-fifty sharp Brenda walked back in carrying a set of tiny formal clothes and said,
"How was your bath, sir. Did you enjoy it?"
"It was all right," he said indifferently. "Just pass me a small towel and wait. Don't look at me while I'm dressing."
First she noticed the soapless water, and then she saw the dry soapbar lying on the floor. Soon realizing what had happened, she said,
"As you remember, sir, first I need to examine that you've washed to a satisfactory standard. And, frankly, sir, that's hardly possible when you haven't soaped yourself."
That was the last straw he was ready to take.
"Just pass me a towel, you fucking bitch!!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. "Who gave you the right to.?"
While he was busy trying to find the hardest way to insult her, Brenda simply bent down to the floor, picked up the soap, took the little man in her hand again, and quickly started soaping him as someone washing a large cucumber. Her patience was also somewhat altered and she didn't put so much care in how she handled him this time around. The poor little bastard found himself seized by what could have been a huge ten-legged octopus that could do with him whatever it wanted. Tossed and turned over and over by Brenda's efficient washing, he swallowed soapy water and got quite dizzy, as the ordeal seemed to never end.
Once she finished, and realizing there were but a few minutes left before eight, she also dried him with the same precision and moved him quickly onto a kind of shelf on the opposite wall. Handing him his clothes, she said with undeniably assertive voice,
"Your clothes for tonight, sir."
Poor Mr. Williams, still breathing heavily and coughing after the odd diving experience, realized he was in no position to argue. Grabbing the items from her huge fingers, he started to get dressed, and he hastened the process when he saw her looking nervously at her watch. God! He thought. You could set your clock by this woman. Once he finished, Brenda asked,
"Have you got a comb, sir?"
"A comb?" he repeated.
"Yes, sir," she explained. "Your hair is still wet and doesn't look too tidy. We'll have to comb it."
"Well, my dear tyrant," he smiled bitterly at her. "I'm afraid I don't have one here. It must be in my chambers. And, since you seem to be so concerned about being ready for dinner together with the radio official time, it will have to stay like this for tonight, eh?"
"I'm sorry, sir," she disagreed. "But we'll have to try this for tonight." And, grabbing his chin with two firm fingers, she proceeded to rake his hair back with her long, sharp nails. The power of her grip, which made his body stand on tiptoes, left him mute with awe. She stopped for a few seconds to examine his style, and still pulled this and that lock of wet hair until she was satisfied. Then, quickly glancing at her watch again, a little smile took shape on her face, and she put the little man down on the floor, and said,
"Please follow me into the dinning room, sir," and she led the way there, the tiny man following meekly behind.
Chapter 2

Mrs. Williams was already waiting for them at the nicely set dinner table and she smiled widely when they entered the large room.

"So," she wanted to know, "How was your afternoon. Did you like each other?"

The little man quickly climbed up onto a chair and then the table, where a tiny table and chair his size had been prepared for him.

"No, I didn't," he complained. "She isn't what I need at all. And she doesn't have the least experience. And just now she's forced me to take a bath when I didn't want to."

"Oh, darling," Mrs. Williams looked disappointed. "But you look so beautiful now. So tidy and well dressed. And, you know I'm leaving for two weeks and there's no one else to take care of you. Please make an effort to accept dear Brenda. She's so nice."

"She isn't," he interrupted. "She's just seen me naked and forced me to wash and hurt me when combing my hair."

"Well, sir," Brenda intervened. "You weren't helping much, and I think it's necessary to have certain guidelines to know where we are."

"Of course, darling," Mrs. Williams supported her.

"No!" the little man shouted. "I don't want her to stay."

"But, darling," Mrs. Williams insisted. "Who's going to take care of everything? You know poor Olga is the only servant left, and she comes a few hours a day to take care of the cooking; that's all."

"There was a long silence in which no one knew what to say. Surprisingly, it was Brenda the one that finally came up with a suggestion,

"Mr. and Mrs. Williams," she said. "Maybe if we all agree on certain line of conduct and commit ourselves to following them, we can establish from the very beginning what is expected from each one of us at every stage." As the couple didn't object, she continued,

"I'll be happy to be of maximum assistance as long as I'm respected and helped to carry out my duties here. In exchange for that, I'll be entirely at Mr. Williams' disposal for whatever he considers necessary."

"Oh, what the heck do I care!" the little man said. "If you want to play contracts you do it yourself. You can arrange whatever you want. I'll just do whatever I want whenever I want it."

Brenda and Mrs. Williams looked at each other.

"In that case," Brenda said, "maybe your wife and me should draw the terms of agreement between us, without your help."

He didn't even bother to answer.

So, for the rest of their dinner, Mrs. Williams and Brenda discussed what life would be for little Albert during the next two weeks, while the person they were talking about lost complete interest and simply concentrated on his food, leaving the table within minutes.

Soon after dinner, Mrs. Williams quickly finalized the details of her absence, called a taxi, and left the house almost in a hurry. She tried to say good-bye to her husband, but he hardly showed any emotion. He just waved a hand from afar and said,

"Bye."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Williams," Brenda said reassuringly. "You'll find a different man when you come back."

"May God hear you," Mrs. Williams replied, and left home quietly.

Soon after, Brenda and little Mr. Williams were the only two people left in the big house.

"I want to watch some TV," the little man said the minute the main door was closed.

Brenda followed little Mr. Williams into the TV room.

"Put the TV on," he ordered dryly.

Brenda went up to the TV set and pushed the power button, then walked back a few steps and sat comfortably on the expensive sofa. She crossed her long, perfectly shaped legs in such an easy-going way that the little man got annoyed at her matter-of-fact attitude. The worst was that those legs -like the woman herself (he had to admit)- were so incredibly beautiful. He had a really hard time trying not to let this fact change his mind. Brenda also sensed that her looks were beginning to have their effect on the little monkey. It serves him well, she thought, and sharpened the suggestive position of her legs.

"Well, what are you waiting for, you twit?" he rudely demanded. "You should have passed me the remote control already."

"Sir, I'll have to remind you that it's been agreed you wouldn't call me a twit or any other pejorative names," she answered. "Please remember that. Besides, I don't know were the remote control is. If you'd be so kind as to tell me."

"It's right over there under your nose, on the table next to your arm, you blind ass!" he snapped, completely ignoring her warning.

"Very well, sir. I'm afraid I won't be able to help you if you insist on calling me names," she didn't give up. If you don't like the channel we are watching, feel free to take the control with your own hands and change it.

"Who do you think you are!" he shouted at her again. "I demand you give the control right away, or else I swear you'll be fired tomorrow first thing in the morning!"

Brenda didn't bother to answer or even look at the little man. She simply took a magazine lying on the table next to the sofa before mentioned and started leafing through it idly.

Little Mr. Williams tried two or three more empty threats but, on getting absolutely no reaction from the calm, unmoved giantess, he decided to go for it himself.

"Soon you'll see how little I need help from anybody," he said defiantly.

He took a few bold steps to the tall table and examined its structure. The small, round glass top rested on a central wooden column that went all the way down to three opening legs that kept the whole thing firmly on the floor. The only way to get to the top would be climbing the wrought column to the bottom of the glass and reaching the edge hanging from some metal rods that held the top from beneath. He also considered the possibility of getting there via the sofa, but the table was a bit far from it, and Brenda was sitting right there and he didn't want to climb on and around her. After a few seconds he decided the feat was possible as long as he made all the right moves.

The way up the middle column was relatively easy. He was a man (or a sixth fraction of it) in his mid thirties, still fit and healthy. When reaching the glass top from below, he could see the control right above his head. All he had to do was hang his arms from the various metal rods holding the top, reach the edge and climb up. There were quite a few rods from the center to the edge, but he trusted his strength. Halfway through, though, he realized he may have made a mistake. His body felt quite heavier than he thought for his arm resistance. Each new rod became more and more inaccessible. His hands hurt and were covered in a slippery sweat that made the whole thing only worse.

Brenda had become quite interested in his performance, even though she wasn't going to make it obvious. Pretending to continue to read the magazine, she couldn't help eyeing the little athlete more and more often, hardly concealing her amusement at such a sight. The show became almost hysterically funny when, with so much swinging, the little monkey's pants started to give way. To his immense embarrassment and her hardly controlled laughter, the pants continued obstinately their slow but sure way down in spite of all his desperate efforts. He tried absolutely everything, from holding it with alternate hands to bending his knees up in a supreme effort to prevent them from slipping down to his ankles. He also considered the option to drop himself to the floor, after all not that impossibly down below. But he was afraid to fall in a most inconvenient position due to the pants entangled between his legs, and breaking his leg bones.

There he was, the little clown, his pants down to his ankles, hanging almost inert from a small side table, unable to decide what to do and getting more and more tired by the second. Brenda continued to pretend total indifference although she had plenty of time to look at him surreptitiously, as he was so busy with himself. Finally, a wave of pity passing through her mind, she ventured,

"Need some help, sir?"

"I don't need no help from no little brat!" was his surprising reply. Brenda decided she had made a mistake by trying to help and returned her indifferent sight to the magazine.

Little Albert finally gathered some extra strength from somewhere and managed, with great effort, to get to the edge of the glass. He was still clambering to the top when he saw, to his dismay, that Brenda easily took the control he had been desperately trying to reach for such long minutes, changed indifferently the channel, and put it back on the sofa next to her, exactly on the opposite side from the table. Once he got on his feet he quickly tidied up his pants and was about to complain, but then he thought that that would be admitting defeat, which he abhorred. He was still glaring at her when she simply asked,

"Everything alright, sir?"

He didn't answer. The way down was easier than the way up, first because of gravity, and second because, for once, his pants stayed put. He quickly walked to where the control was, ready to climb up the sofa, but when only a couple of inches from reaching it, Brenda took it up again, quickly switched off the TV, and said,

"I'm afraid TV time is over, sir."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" he shouted, almost in pain.

"Well, sir," she said with a serious face. "TV time was from whenever we finished dinner till nine thirty. It's nine thirty at the moment, so I'm afraid you'll have to wait till tomorrow in order to watch some more."

"I'm not taking this fucking @!#$ any more!" he started to bang his fists in the air. "You give that thing to me right now or I'll take it from you myself."

She was still sitting on the sofa and he was standing on it, next to her. Aiming for the control she was holding in her hand, little Mr. Williams made a quick snatching move with his arm that was easily dodged by the giantess. Taking his challenge, she kept the thing above him, not very high but high enough to make all his jumping and jerking completely useless. He invested his very last stamina of the day in trying to grab the prized control from the beautiful, calm hands of the woman in charge, and the more he tried the more he made a fool of himself and he knew it. Brenda kept an interested face, showing very little of her thoughts, and waited patiently for him to collapse, breathless on the soft cushion. Once it was clear who'd won their little contest, she said,

"As I said, sir. I'm afraid we'll have to wait till tomorrow for some more television. Now, if you may, please follow me into your chambers so I put you to sleep," and she got up to her feet, remote control still in hand, looking impossibly tall to the little man lying down on the sofa, completely exhausted. God, he thought, I have to beat her. I have to find the way to beat the bitch! This feeling of frustration and revenge got mixed, once more, with the awe-inspiring sight of the gorgeous giantess that seemed to rule now his life. He couldn't stand her sight, but he couldn't help looking reverentially at her, either. But, wait a second, had she just said put you to sleep? Partially recovered from his strain he said,

"What do you mean 'put me to sleep'?"

"Yes, sir," she explained. "Your wife instructed me to make sure that you're in bed and sleeping by ten o'clock."

"Me in bed and sleeping by ten o'clock?" he almost laughed. "Are you out of your mind? I've never done that in my life!"

"So I think it's about time you start enjoying the benefits of such a healthy habit, sir," she suggested. "Also, remember that you have to brush your teeth and change into the proper pajamas before bed time, so please follow me to your room to make sure there's plenty of time before you fall asleep."

He debated with himself what to do. If he tried to run away, after such physical efforts, she for sure would catch him within seconds. On the other hand, if he went with her and got into bed, he could soon pretend he'd fallen asleep and wait for her to leave him alone in order to slip out of bed and do whatever he wanted. Yes, he decided. That made sense. Let's just play her game. Before she knows it she'll be the one sleeping like an angel and me the one watching the channel I want on TV. He slowly got to his feet and climbed down the sofa, soon following the giant young woman to his room.

The large bedroom was probably the best-equipped place for him in the mansion. His bed was still huge and everything had been left as in the old days, but there were a few appliances adapted for the little man's needs. Thus, he brushed his teeth in a little sink and got undresses behind a folding screen.

"Don't look at me while I'm changing," he snapped at her. "I've had enough body watching from a teenager for one day."

"You shouldn't worry, sir. I'm neither looking at you nor was I hired for the privilege of such a treat," she said, knowing the comment wouldn't go amiss.

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded. "Let me remind you that my condition is only temporary and that from the minute I get back to my normal size on, you'll be one of the first things I'll take care of," he threatened.

"I'm sure you'll do that, sir," she said, unimpressed. "Nonetheless, right now, what we'll take care of is your sleep. Please get into bed."

"Well, what's wrong with your nuclear clock?" he mocked her. "It must be fully ten minutes before ten o'clock. How are you going to manage me closing my eyes and drifting into a sweet dream within exactly six hundred seconds?"

"Well, sir," she said with a smile, "That's something you shouldn't worry about. Just be so kind as to get under the covers."

As he walked toward and climbed up the large bed, already relishing in the idea of freedom after she left, he heard a soft hum fill up the room. By the time he got into bed the hum had turned into a delicate song incredibly well sung with the sweetest of voices. Well, he thought, you can't take that from her; she definitely knows how to sing.

Her soft tune continued for a couple of minutes as she tidied up the room. Little Mr. Williams had all his senses focused on the song. Yes, he thought, suddenly feeling very tired, I'm going to enjoy the night the minute she leaves. And couldn't help opening his mouth in a little huge yawn. Just a few more minutes and I'll go. I'll go. Where..? Wh...? Zzzzz.

By the time Brenda finished her tiding, she sat on the bed, next to the drowsy one-foot-long man, never stopping her song. He was almost asleep, a sweet little smile drawn on his lips. He looks so cute, she thought as she watched him finally drift off into a mumbling dream.

"Good night, little prince," she whispered as she passed a soft finger on his face. Just before she removed it a casual, involuntary move of his lips kissed the tip of her nail.

"Oh, darling," she said. And left the dark room quietly.

Chapter 3

Early next morning, little Albert Williams was suddenly awaken by early daylight coming through the windows.

"Good morning, sir," Brenda cheerfully said as she continued to draw the curtains. "Have you slept well?"

It took the little man some very long seconds to remember yesterday's newcomer and her irruption into his life. He forced his memory to see where he had gone after she left the room, but he concluded he couldn't even remember seeing her leave it. Had he really fallen asleep at ten o'clock? Impossible!

"What time is it?" he asked with a husky voice.

"Six o'clock, sir," she answered from the window. "Time to get up and start our very busy schedule.

"What?" he said, annoyed. "Six o'clock? Do you think I'm gonna get up at this time? Do me a favor and close those curtains and wake me at twelve thirty."

"Sorry," she said well-humored, "But it's jogging time for everybody, sir."

He suddenly realized she was wearing a gym suit and holding another, tiny one, in her hand.

"No! No! And no! It's cold outside and I've never done this in my life," he shouted, digging his head under the warm covers.

"Oh, come on, sir," she tried to encourage him, "There is nothing like an early start to enjoy the day to the fullest."

There came no answer from under the blankets. Brenda walked assertively to his bed, pulled the covers aside, and saw the little man all crawled up in the fetal position.

"Come on, sir," she insisted but, after a few seconds of no reaction, she said,

"Very good, sir. If that's how you want to behave from the beginning." And she took the little man in her hands. He immediately started to kick and jerk and she had to tighten her grip. Quickly carrying him into the toilet, she gently put him in the sink while still holding him tight in her hand, and turned on the blue tap. A thick jet of cold water streamed down, drenching the little rebel in a second. The morning was cold and the water freezing. Poor little Albert found himself shaking to the bone.

"Stop! Stop!" he shouted. "Turn it off! Now!"

After a long minute of keeping the tiny man under the cold water Brenda turned the tap back off and offered a towel to the trembling midget.

"I suggest you dry off quickly and put on these clothes, sir," she said, showing him his little outfit.

"I swear, Brenda, I swear!" he said between shivering teeth. "I'll make you regret every minute of this!"

Ignoring his statement, she gave him a few minutes to get dressed and said,

"Now, sir. Let me put you down and show you what our training's going to be like." And, before waiting for an answer, she put him on the floor and led the way into the garden. He followed her at a trot, since he badly needed to keep moving in order to get rid of his cold sensation.

Once in the garden she commanded,

"Very good, sir. Now I want you to run for ten minutes around the garden," and she started clapping her hands rhythmically.

Little Albert was only glad to start running, since he desperately needed to warm up. Only that after two or three minutes, feeling warm again and already bored of running around, he tried to stop. Brenda prompted him to continue, but he waved a dismissing hand at her,

"No," he said. "I'm out of breath. Let's go have some breakfast."

"I'm sorry, sir," she repeated her sentence for the millionth time, "but breakfast will come only after some good physical activity and a warm shower." And, faster than he realized, she pulled a thin piece of string out of nowhere and tied it round his neck. Pulling it gently forward, the poor little man didn't have an option but run, if he didn't want to stumble and fall head-on to the ground. Still running bumpily he shouted,

"What am I, a dog? Take this thing off me right away!"

"Sorry, sir," was her negative answer. "The ten minutes aren't over yet."

Once they were she gave him a couple of minutes to catch breath and removed his improvised collar.

"Good, now," she continued. "Now it's time for fifty sit-ups."

He suddenly found himself on the wet grass struggling with his long out-of-shape body to comply with her demands. After about 35 of them he just thought he'd die. But, once more, Brenda's solution didn't leave any doubts about how seriously she took his fitness: she dug two long fingernails into his legs inflicting quite a bit of pain, and said,

"It's either this or the completion of your fifty, sir."

Then came the climbing of the rope, for which she used a piece of thicker string. Not finding anywhere to hang it from, Brenda just held it with her hand, her arm outstretched. As poor little Albert painstakingly managed his way up he couldn't help marveling at the difference between their conditions. While he had to put all his effort into getting that high, it wasn't even above the giant woman's eye level who, besides, was holding the entire structure. Also, as much as he could manage, he stole lascivious glances at the woman's body, great-looking even in sport-wear, while going up and down her little invention.

After good forty minutes of demanding training, Brenda said,

"Not bad, sir. Not bad at all. I'm sure tomorrow will be even better. Now, it's time for a good morning shower."

"Go to hell," was all he had to say as he walked to the bathroom.

After the shower, it was breakfast time at seven o'clock. Like last night, little Mr. Williams found himself sitting on the large table at another, tiny one, in front of his nanny.

"What?" he cried when seeing what breakfast was. "Cereal? What am I, a horse? I want my bacon, and scrambled eggs, and toast with butter, and a piece of chocolate. Together with coffee with cream."

"Sorry, sir," was her firm answer. "This is much healthier. But if you finish it off I may consider a little cup of coffee after."

"You may consider?" he made fun of her, "Well, thank you very much, Ms. Consideration, but I'm not having this children's stuff. I'm a mature person who knows what he wants and what I know is that I'm not going to eat this @!#$."

"As you wish, sir," was her answer. And she proceeded to take his bowl back to the kitchen.

When she came back, he said,

"I suppose I haven't been granted that coffee you mentioned, have I?"

"Aha." she answered. A strange silence followed her word. ".sir," she added. This was the first time in these two days she had forgotten to finish her sentence with the prescribed respectful term. Neither of them was sure whether the other had noticed the detail, but they never mentioned it.

"OK," he suddenly said as he watched her eat her cereal with gusto, "You win, I'll have my cereal after all."

"I'm afraid that's a little late, sir," she objected. "You've just told me you don't want any."

"So what?" he said with exasperation, "Can't I change my mind?"

"Sure you can, sir," she didn't give up. "Only that I can't be running back and forth after your whims. If you are the mature person you claim to be, think what you say before you open your mouth, as mature people do. Besides," she added, "you seem to have the tendency to talk to me in a rather rude way, even when asking favors."

"OK, OK," he dismissed her comment, "I'll be nicer to you in the future. Now, just go and bring me my cereal."

Brenda seized the chance.

"If I bring it to you, can I count on your improving your manners?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said impatiently.

"Really?" she smiled, moving her plate aside. "In that case may be we should make a deal."

"What deal?" he said.

"Well." she continued, "would you commit yourself to never calling me names again?"

"Yes, no problem," he answered, trying to get her to do what he wanted and forget about it.

"But I'll need certain guarantees," she smiled amiably.

"What guarantees?"

"Well," she explained, "how do I know that you won't be insulting me again within half an hour?"

"Er. you have my word," he said nonchalantly.

"OK," she went on. "Here is my suggestion. If you call me again any of those derogative names we'll have to open a ten minute window."

"A ten minute window for what?" he didn't understand.

"A ten minute window for me to respond to your transgression in whatever way I choose."

"What, insult me back, you mean?" he became cautious.

"I'm afraid you'll have to trust me with that, sir," she almost winked at him. "In any case, if you've given me your word there shouldn't be any problems. Your word counts, sir, doesn't it?"

"Of course!" he seemed to be offended.

"So, sir. Have we got a deal?" she wanted to know. "Next time you call me names do I have my ten minutes to deal with you as I see fit?"

He thought for a couple of seconds and finally said,

"OK, OK. We've got a deal. Now bring me that cereal."

Brenda carefully stretched her hand for him to shake it. He grabbed the tip of her beautiful finger with both his hands and shook it.

"A deal"

Breakfast ended with the coffee she had promised.

"Very good, sir," she announced energetically, "it's time for some morning activity now. First: newspaper reading."

"What?" he said.

"Yes, sir," she explained. "Apparently you don't seem to know much of what's going on in our country and world, except for sports. It's about time we learn a little what reality is like beyond the four walls of your beautiful house."

As usual, he objected, saying he knew everything. But a couple of questions about this and that well-known politician or world event showed that he didn't know much more than the names, if at all. So they displayed the daily broadsheet on the table and Brenda chose the articles to be read. She was appalled by his ignorance and poor reading, not much more developed than in a nine-year-old boy. After a long hour of tiring stumbling through the text he asked for a break.

"In a minute, sir," she said. "Let's finish the article first."

"No!" he got exasperated. "I don't want to finish it. It's boring and I don't care about it. I want to stretch my legs and walk a little. Now."

"Well, sir," she insisted. "I'm afraid we'll do that after you finish."

"Bitch," he muttered.

The minute he did so he suddenly remembered his promise.

"I'm sorry?" Brenda looked at him intently. "I thought we had a deal, sir. But apparently your word seems to be somewhat erratic. I'm afraid we'll have to open a little ten minute window under the terms we discussed earlier."

"What did I say?" he pretended surprise. "Hey! What are you doing?"

Brenda had taken a satin ribbon out of her pocket and was tying it up around little Mr. Williams' neck.

"Well, sir," she continued in a matter of fact way. "This will be my response to your insult for now. We'll take the walk you wanted all right. But you'll have to do it as a little dog, leashed to its master."

"What?!" he shouted, trying to prevent her giant fingers from completing her work, to no avail. "Like a dog? What am I, an animal?"

"I'm afraid that for the next ten minutes you'll have to be whatever I decide you to be, sir," was her indifferent answer. "We have a deal, remember?"

"I don't care about no deal!" he tried to object. But by the time he finished his sentence he was already down on the floor being pulled by the giant woman as a little pincher who doesn't want to walk.

"Come on, puppy," she teased him. "Time for your walk."

All his tiny physical objections went absolutely nowhere. Brenda was pulling hard and even lifted him up in the air by the ribbon round his neck, which made him choke. Soon he found himself walking fast around the house and out into the garden, almost trotting to follow the woman's steady steps. Once out there, she said looking down at him,

"Come on, puppy. Do what dogs do. Smell the ground and trees."

"Brenda, please," he tried to reason with her. "Don't."

"I'm sorry, puppy," she smiled. "I don't understand dog's language very well, so you should stop barking. It means nothing to me." And she continued, "OK, little puppy, now sit on the grass. We are going to learn a few tricks."

Never waiting for the little man to obey her requests but deftly pulling her ribbon to put him in the right position, she said,

"OK, little dog, show us how you lift a leg."

"Brenda, pl." She gave the ribbon such a yank that he jumped into the air and fell clumsily on the ground. He was soon realizing that, in spite of her playful tone, she was actually being very serious about her demands. Getting back to his standing position, the ribbon still stretched and pulling at his neck, he slowly raised an arm.

"That's a beautiful puppy!" she cheered. "Let's see now how you put out your tongue to show us how happy you are."

The little clown didn't have an option but stick out his tongue, which Brenda met with renewed positive comments. Then, suddenly looking at her watch, she said,
"Good, sir. The ten minutes are over. Now let's go back, finish that article and take a break."

During that break little Mr. Williams tried to convince giantess Brenda to forget the deal they had agreed upon earlier on, but she wouldn't hear of it. Finally ignoring his protestations, she said,

"Very good, sir. Now it's time for some TV instruction."

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"Well, sir," she explained. "I've marked on the newspaper program two or three highly instructive documentaries which could greatly benefit your patchy education. You'll just have to watch them and then sum them up for me."

"What are you, my elementary school teacher?" he mocked her. But when he saw her removing the ribbon from her pocket again, he quickly added,

"OK, OK, I'll watch your programs. Maybe there is something interesting in them after all."

For the next hour and a half they both devoted their attention to some wild animal and environmental pollution documentaries, which were quite good. But little Albert wasn't used to focusing his mind on anything beyond second rate thrillers, so he took good care to show his boredom. By the third huge, sounding yawn, Brenda said,

"Sir, if you yawn once more I'll have to make you watch the rest of the program on your feet."

From then on he took good care not to yawn again or, at least, not to do it so obviously. Then, Brenda granted him a ten-minute break until eleven o'clock.

"What we'll have then is your first lesson on good manners," she said.

"You must be kidding me!" he clapped his hands in the air.

"No, sir, I'm not," was her stern answer.

.

Chapter 4

After studying her face for a while, he realized she was dead serious and decided not to fight an already lost battle. Instead he said,

"I'm already hungry, you know? What time are we eating?" He couldn't help realizing he was gradually turning his orders into careful questions of permission.

"At one o'clock, sir," Brenda said. "But you may have a little chocolate or something if you want."

"Well, thanks for your kindness, Ms. Generosity," he said mockingly. "In that case I'll be having the chocolate, if you don't terribly mind."

"No need to be sarcastic, sir," she said fearlessly, and went into the kitchen.

Once back, and walking with a tiny piece of chocolate in her hand for Mr. Williams, the phone suddenly started to ring. Forgetting for a second what she had just come back for, she walked towards the telephone and picked up the receiver, leaving poor little Albert empty handed.

"Oh, Mrs. Williams," Brenda said professionally, "Yes, ma'am, everything is all right, thank you. Yes, ma'am. Yes, he is behaving perfectly all right. Yes. Yes."

The conversation seemed to be extending into some unimportant details. Little Albert was becoming impatient with his chocolate and was trying to get Brenda's attention waving his arms, but the giant woman was still in her own world of reporting to the boss. He finally got closer to the giantess's legs, standing at the little phone table, and jumped high up trying to snatch the prize from between her fingertips, graciously relaxed at her side. His attempt was a couple of inches below target and he tried again. There was little improvement, but he wasn't still there. The more he jumped, bumped and got tired with the continuous effort, the poorer his performance got.

In the meantime, Brenda was still chatting with Mrs. Williams, never realizing the tiny man's useless pirouetting in the air. His final go ended in total failure. He just collapsed to the floor, completely exhausted, still looking up at the unaware winner of a contest in which the woman hadn't even realized she was taking part. Still panting, lying down on the ground, little Albert for the first time patently came to understand what this young lady was doing to him. She was becoming his feeder, instructor, and provider. She was deciding what he does, how he does it, and when he does it, if she allows him to do it at all. Her power was such that she could leave him absolutely flat on the floor not even noticing what had been actually going on.

And he looked at her from beneath. She was so incredibly beautiful, and natural, and gracious. The mere way in which she innocently held that piece of -for him- inaccessible chocolate made his desire wake up. He stared at her long, well shaped, beautiful legs; at her elongated young body, at her pretty face. God, you are beautiful, he thought, and couldn't help a ticklish sensation pass between his legs. But no! No! He wouldn't let anyone decide for him. He wanted his freedom to do as he wished, no matter how gigantic the enemy. Sooner or later he'd manage to get rid of this intruder and break free. Yes, sir! No one would tell him what to do. He got up to his feet and renewed his vow not to be defeated by anyone, especially a young woman who could have been his very little baby sister.

The phone conversation went on for a few more minutes, in which he calmed down and patiently waited for Brenda. Once she finished, the young nanny handed the little man the piece of chocolate with a smile.

"Your wife sends you love, sir," she said. "Don't forget we have our lesson starting in a minute," she added.

Up yours, he thought.

At eleven sharp their 'manners' lesson started. For it he climbed up the table in order to take a seat on the tiny chair on top.

"Oh no, sir," Brenda stopped him on his way up. "For this activity your chair will be placed on the floor, right in front of mine."

"What do you mean?" he asked. "I won't even be able to see your face properly."

"I know, sir," she answered. "But that's how you see most people anyway and it's necessary that you learn your way around from the position in which you'll find yourself most of the time."

"Well, no," he objected. "I prefer the table, anyway." And he continued to climb.

"Sorry, sir," Brenda apologized once more. "But the lesson will be carried out from the ground." And, simply taking the tiny chair in her hand, she proceeded to put it down on the floor. Then she placed a regular chair in front of the little one and sat on it herself.

Mr. Williams, who had reached the tabletop, waited in vain for a few seconds but, on seeing no reaction, he unwillingly stepped down and took a seat where his nanny had told him. Once there, he found himself in front of a massive pair of legs, disappearing high up into a fitting dress. Well above there were the woman's generous breast and her angel-like face, which he forced himself to hate in spite of their beauty. The picture turned even worse when she comfortably crossed her perfect legs into a position that seemed to him just too self-confident for somebody who, after all, was working for and being paid by his household. The tip of her medium-heel sandal was so close to him that he could distinctly smell the typical, yet intoxicating shoe aroma. Her big toe showed through an elegant opening. God, he thought, every bit of her is just perfect. Then, looking up at her face, he suddenly realized her smile was giving away the fact that she had noticed his little infatuation. He immediately changed his attitude into a non-committing one and said,

"All right? Do you feel happier this way?"

"Don't worry, sir," she said, keeping her smile. It won't hurt as long as everything is done well. You can only benefit from this, I can assure you."

And she continued right away,

"The two most important words of any well-mannered person are 'please' and 'thank-you', which, I've noticed, seem to be almost absent from your vocabulary. I'd say that as long as you use these two magic words there shouldn't be much else to worry about. As long as you mention them when necessary all the rest of our lessons will be but commentary."

She stopped for a second to see whether he was taking it in. As there was no comment, she continued,

"Today we'll devote our time to these words and their application, and I'll expect you to start using them more often even after the class is over. So," she proceeded, "let me give you an example of what I mean." And pointing out at a pencil lying on a nearby coffee table she said, "Would you please bring me that pencil?"

In a rather harsh manner the little man got up and went for the thing. When he handed it to her she lowered her carefully manicured hand waiting for him to complete his action. Standing there, holding a pencil as big as a spear in front of the relaxed, gigantic beautiful hand, he had to make an effort in order not to kiss it. After a couple of seconds he just put the giant pencil on her palm.

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "You see how easy" she finished. "Now it's your turn, sir."

He looked around and said dryly,

"The paper. please"

"Well, sir," she objected. "That's not bad, but it's not worth much when you don't accompany it with the right inflection. You see."

"What the @!#$ are you talking about!" he exploded, completely losing his temper. "I said please, didn't you hear it? Are fucking deaf or what? Who do you think you are?"

He soon realized his mistake. She got up and threateningly close to him.

"I thought we had a deal, sir," she said with tense voice. "That you weren't going to use any dirty words or call me names." She was slowly turning from angry to suggestive. "But apparently you prefer to continue to open little ten minute windows to let me do with you as I please."

"You and your ten minute windows!" he shouted. "I'm not gonna be nobody's dog. If you wanna play animals be an animal yourself."

"No problem, sir," she smiled willingly, "I'm going to be a cat. The trouble is." and she showed her long nails in a paw-like hand position, "that you are going to be a mouse."

And with that she scratched the air so close to his face that he thought she'd cut his skin off.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he said, trying to look casual.

"Miaow!" she purred, and repeated her attack, this time actually tearing off a bit of his shirt and leaving a pink scratch on his skin. "Run, little mouse, run before this mishy finds you." And she gave a step forward.

Looking at his mark in disbelief and seeing the cat-woman determined to start her chase, his heart gave a sudden thump, and he started to run. Another scratch from the back made him speed up to the end of his little legs' capacity. God! She's crazy, he thought as he miraculously avoided another blow. He finally found refuge crouching under the sofa, slightly elevated on four thick short legs, his heart beating frantically. Her sandals soon appeared on his narrow horizon and then her face. Brenda stuck her arm under the sofa and tried to grab the little man, who was desperately cornering himself on the opposite side, not daring to leave the protection of the improvised shelter.

"Miaowww," she was threatening, "Ffffff!"

"Brenda, please, please," his voice wasn't much more than a mouse's squeak. "Please don't do this to me, I'm getting scared!"

Another close scratch was all he got for an answer. He managed to avoid that one, but ended up stumbling down to the floor. Seizing her chance, Brenda caught him in her hand and slowly dragged him out from under the sofa.

Slowly getting on her feet, her eyes narrowed into a feline smile, her handgrip tight around his frightened body, she said,

"Gotcha, little mouse! You know what hungry pussy cats do with their tiny victims?" and she stretched the fingers of her free hand, displaying formidably the five long, knife-like nails.

"Brenda, please, please."

"First they play with the tiny little rodents, making them suffer a little." and, placing her longest nail on the poor bastard's chest, she started to slowly drag it down, tearing the remains of his shirt to smithereens and leaving a wide reddish mark after its track.

"Brenda, please," the little man started to cry. "Please, I'll be good."

"And then they make them suffer a little bit more." she continued, and easily tore off his tiny pants, exposing his bare legs in a most humiliating way. "And then." Brenda lifted the terrified Mr. Williams in the air, placed him right above her head, and proceeded to open her mouth as if she were going to swallow him.

"No. No. Please no! No!!" he was begging desperately, while kicking frantically in the air.

She was slowly lowering him into her mouth when, suddenly, she stopped, changed her expression into her normal face and said in a perfectly regular tone,

"Well, sir. I'm afraid the ten minutes are over. I really hope you've learnt something from our little window. Don't you?"

Still hanging ridiculously in the air, his entire body trembling from bottom to top, his face a mess of sweat and tears, little Mr. Williams nodded repeatedly up and down, unable to utter a sound.

"Good, sir," Brenda finished, and proceeded to put the little man on the floor. "May I suggest you go into your room and change into some different clothes. These don't seem to be in a very good state."

He still assented wordlessly, hugging himself to stop his own shaking.

"May I suggest you do it quickly?" she smiled, teasing him further.

Another series of short, frightened nods showed his agreement.

"Good, then," she finished. "Off you go!"

Running as fast as his little legs permitted, the poor little clown disappeared into his chambers.

The rest of their lesson went on in a most effective way. Little Albert was only eager to do everything he was told to and, little by little, started to gain his confidence back. Brenda never changed her pleasant -though firm- attitude, which made him wonder whether he wasn't dealing with a serious case of split personality.

He was granted another ten minute break around twelve o'clock, and Brenda said that they'd finish their morning activity with some computer work.

"Really?" a more relaxed Mr. William asked. "What are we going to do with it?"

"Some Internet search, sir," was her surprising answer.

The little man decided to use this break to try and talk to the giant woman to find out what was really going on with her, although he didn't manage to get any clear answers.

"Well, sir," she simply said. "We just agreed that I'd be allowed to do whatever I please during those ten minutes and that's exactly what happened. I don't see anything strange with that, do you?"

"Well." he said, not really finding a proper answer.

Once sitting at the computer Mr. Williams was quite intrigued as to what they'd do. There were quite a few Internet favorite sites he would have liked to visit, but he was absolutely certain they wouldn't be exactly Brenda's idea of surfing.

"What are we going to do?" he couldn't wait.

"Well, sir," Brenda explained. "There are some sites I'd like us to visit. They are most interesting and I'm sure you'll benefit greatly from knowing of their existence."

To the little man's disappointment, all Brenda wanted to show him were charity and foundation sites: for the homeless, the orphans, battered women, seriously handicapped people, several terminal illnesses, and so on.

Although his first reaction was dismay, Brenda's quick surfing of sites she seemed to know very well, and her pointing out at different facts and details, he ended up mildly interested in one or two cases that particularly struck his feelings.

"Poor guy," Mr. Williams said at some point. "Look what fate has done to him."

"Would you like to donate some money, sir?" she asked, pointing with her finger at a box shown at a side of the screen where you could make voluntary credit card donations.

"No!" was his instinctive reaction. "After all," he tried to justify himself, "look at what life has done to me. And no one seems to guarantee a cure yet."

"You are a very rich man, sir," Brenda put in. "These people have hardly anything at all."
"No," was his final answer. "I'm in no position to donate any money."

"As you wish, sir," was Brenda's prudent response.

Lunch was pretty uneventful, only that there was almost no complaints from Mr. Williams about the food, unlike most other times, in which he'd always find what's wrong with his meal. Towards the end, the little man stretched his arms and yawned loudly, little used as he was to waking up at six in the morning.

"Good, sir," Brenda said. "It's time for your nap."

"What?" Little Albert said. "I've never slept a nap in my life. Besides, if you are ready to give me some time for me, I'd rather use it for watching some TV, or something."

Well, sir," Brenda moved aside her plate and gracefully rested her pretty face on her hand, elbow on the table, while looking sweetly into the tiny man's eyes. "I have all the impression that you are a little tired and you well deserve some rest." Her voice had turned incredibly soft, almost a whisper, which had an immediate effect on the little man. All of a sudden he felt a kind of hypnotic shroud fall on his body. He couldn't take his tired eyes off hers.

"No, no. Not really." he attempted to answer.

Her beautiful, bright blue eyes were speaking right through her sweet voice, not unlike the song that had put him to sleep the night before. Mr. Williams' head felt slightly heavy and he had to make an effort to look aware.

"I'm not. I'm not tired."

"Well, sir," Brenda softened her smile even more. "Your eyelids are very heavy, and you can hardly keep them open."

"No. My eyelids are. all right." his voice was turning weak.

"And your body is starting to relax and feel very tired." she said delicately, almost inaudibly.

The little man's eyes shut and he started to nod off.

"You are about to fall asleep, puppy," Brenda went on.

The beginning of a snore came out from the tiny man's mouth.

"And now you are sleeping deeply."

Little Mr. Williams' head fell forward, his arms aside and his legs apart. An earthquake wouldn't have awoken him. Brenda took the 12-inch being into her soft hands and placed him gently on his bed. Then she carefully removed his shoes, shirt, and pants, and left the room quietly.

Chapter 5

At three o'clock the nanny went into little Albert's room again.

"Wake up, sir," she announced. "Time to continue our busy day."

Opening his eyes a little, the little man woke pleasantly looking at the sexy giantess take care of things around the room. Then standing up on his bed, he faintly smiled at her. She was looking right at the joint of his legs and he noticed, to his great embarrassment, that he had a huge erection. Suddenly covering himself with his hands, he shouted,

"Leave me alone while I get dressed!"

"Yes, sir. No need to get embarrassed," she answered, hardly concealing her amusement.

"No one is embarrassed! Who is embarrassed?" he accompanied her way out with his shouts.

When he came out he was still in a foul mood. A pair of simple looking, low-heel sandals met him. Brenda's long legs extended into a pretty dress, leading all the way up to her face. When craning up his neck, he heard her say,

"Now, sir. It's time for some productive work."

He continued to stretch up his neck to try and guess what she meant by that.

"Well, sir," she explained. "It isn't good for a man to live on thin air. You happen to be rich and fortunate, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't keep yourself busy engaging in some kind of business."

"But I don't need to work," he complained. "I have lots of money and some other people need jobs much more than me. Besides, I don't have a profession."

"Well, sir," she continued. "That's going to be a problem because we need to find something that you are capable of doing. And since I've noticed your garden is quite simply decorated and I happen to know quite a lot about it, I've decided you should train as a gardener. It doesn't seem that you'd be very successful with trees right now, sir, but I'm sure you can do just fine with flowers, a most fascinating subject."

"Look, lady," little Mr. Williams seemed to have forgotten all his morning experiences, "I couldn't care less about gardens, so you just leave me alone and go take care of it yourself."

"I'm sorry, sir," she said firmly. "I think it's a most honorable profession and extremely suited to your. condition. I'm absolutely sure that you'll only benefit from it."

"What do you mean my condition?" he shouted at her. "What am I, a garden dwarf? You get out of my life, you stupid cow."

The minute he said that all his memory seemed to come back in a second. Suddenly realizing he had insulted his nanny once more he became fully aware she was looking at him with threatening eyes.

"I'm sorry," he tried to apologize a bit too late. She had already given a first step toward him and he quickly turner around to start running away. He knew she'd catch him, so he stopped a couple of times along his desperate race to try and negotiate.

"Please, Brenda, I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean it. I was half asleep."

He was still explaining himself when she had him firmly in her powerful hand.

"Please, Brenda, please don't do anything to me. I swear it won't happen again. I swear."

The giantess was already showing her triumphal smile when she said,

"Would you like me to forgive you this ten minute window, puppy?"

"Yes, please. Yes, Brenda, please. I'm begging you," he answered biting his lips.

"And what will I get in exchange, sweetie?" she wanted to know.

"My word of never insulting you again, Brenda. I swear," he said fearfully.

"We've already seen how good your word is, little man," she disagreed. "I'm afraid that that isn't an option anymore. I'd be glad to spare you this one, though, in exchange for a longer window."

"A longer window?" he repeated.

"Yes, a longer window," she explained. "Instead of a ten minute break for me to do with you as I please we'll extend it to one hour. What do you think of that?"

"No!" he shouted. "No more windows of any kind."

"Very good," she said seriously. "I'll take my ten minutes right now, then."
"No!!" he screamed. "Please, no!"

"So?" she demanded.

"All right, all right," he gave in. "OK. We'll extend it to an hour, just don't do anything to me now."

"Is that a deal, sir?" she smiled.

"Yes, yes. It's a deal," he hurried to say. And once more she offered him her finger, which he shook with both his hands.

Of course he ended up going out to the garden with her. She had told him they'd have quite a theoretical lesson today, and that only tomorrow would they start to actually work the earth and so on.

Following his nanny and profession mistress close behind her legs, he was forced to listen to various explanations about different kinds of grass, flowers, trees, earth, and leaves. She knew an awful lot and was quite keen on sharing her knowledge with her little apprentice. More often than not, though, walking at such close range, he found himself more and more attracted by the giantess's simple yet sexy sandals walking right in front of him. They had a most alluring way of stepping over the soft ground, their low heels gracefully leaving their mark on the grass and earth below as she walked. Little pieces of wet grass got randomly stuck to Brenda's feet and sandals, giving them a sort of fresh, attractive look that mesmerized the little man.

"Are you paying attention, sir?" Brenda asked looking down at the tiny man at her feet.
"Yes, yes, go on," he said impatiently, annoyed at her awareness of his real interest.

"Well, sir," she insisted. "You seem to be more focused on my sandals than on my words."
"Nobody's looking at your sandals," he lied. "What's in them to look at, anyway?" he tried to hurt her. "They aren't beautiful at all."

"Well, sir," she wasn't going to spare him a hard time either. "Judging by the way you were staring at them right now, I would have said that you find them quite interesting. Do you, sir?"

He sensed her advantage.

"No," he lied again. But he was annoyed that she made it so explicit she'd found out about it. "They are one of the ugliest pair of shoes I've ever seen," he tried to hurt her.

"Well, sir," she didn't give up. "I find them quite sexy, actually. And I also think I look good in them."

"You wouldn't look good in the finest clothes on earth," he scoffed at her.

"Is that why you can't take your eyes off me, sir?" she provoked him.

"Me? My eyes off you? Oh, please, don't make me laugh!"

"So I won't tell you how you look from up here, sir," she attacked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he felt a wave of rage get into him.

"It means that you are quite an image from my position, sir," she continued quietly, never losing her cool.

"You know what you are?" he waved an angry fist at her.

"What am I, sir?" her smile became interested. And then, seeing the little man debate himself whether he'd take the risk to insult her or not, she added,

"A little bit afraid to give me an excuse to open an hour-long window, sir?"

Little Mr. Williams completely lost it then. Gathering a handful of wet earth in his tiny hands and clumsily throwing it at her gigantic feet, he screamed,

"You are a fucking whore! That's what you are! I'm gonna beat you, I'm gonna." he couldn't finish his diatribe because the giantess had gently knocked him down to the floor with her immense foot.

"I'm beginning to realize you quite enjoy our little windows, little man," Brenda said with an amused expression. And, as she playfully prevented him from getting back on his feet, she added,

"Don't worry, puppy, I'll make sure to make this one as enjoyable as you want it."

"No!" he pleaded, soon realizing his next hour wouldn't be the easiest of his life. "Let me go. Don't hurt me," and he started to race to the house.

Once in the living room, the little man's tiny legs speeding to their limit and the calm giantess walking slowly behind, he felt an extremely powerful soft structure knock him to the ground. He soon realized Brenda had quickly taken off her sandals and was playing with his little body with her bare feet.

"I really don't feel like stooping all the way down to you, doll," she said with a tired expression. "So, I'm afraid I'll let my feet deal with you. Something tells me you'll enjoy it, anyway," her smile showed the certainty of her determination.

"No, no, please," he begged her, trying to avoid the unavoidable feet, indifferently dancing this way and that with his tiny being.

Desperately trying to regain balance, the little man hardly succeeded to stand on his tiny feet for longer than the second or two the giantess purposefully granted him to make the game ever so effective.

"Down you go again, little mouse," she said, easily flattening him against the floor. Then she placed her long, bare foot on the midget's extended body and gently rolled him back and forth, as if he were a banana. Her big toe playfully poked his body and face and she used an extra toe to roughly pull his nose and ears.

"Stop! Stop!" little Albert was almost in tears.

Brenda sat on a near-by chair and brought her other foot into the picture, using one of them to firmly secure the tiny man against the ground and the other to do with him whatever she felt like.

"Please, st." he couldn't finish his sentence because she deftly blocked his mouth with her toes."

"I'm afraid I can't hear you, puppy," she teased him. "You'll have to get rid of my foot if you want me to hear what you say. And she pressed further down, blocking also his nose, thus making it impossible for him to breathe. His struggle became more intense, and even more desperately so when she kept the pressure on. Frantically banging his fists at the gigantic feet, the little man hardly managed to steal a fraction of air from under the giantess's mighty toes.

After a couple of minutes of that, Brenda skillfully turned him over and pressed his tiny stomach against the floor pushing down his bottom. Using both her feet, she tore once more most of his clothes until there was nothing left but his ridiculous underwear. He was still screaming when her foot attack finally stopped.

Surprised and clumsily getting back on his feet, little Mr. Williams looked up at the imposing giantess, who was looking down at him with an expression he hadn't yet seen in her. The amusement was completely gone, a stern face and strict eyes piercing him instead. The little man, still trying to check whether all his bones were alright and about to complain again, was prevented from uttering a word when he heard her commanding voice say,

"Quiet!"

This was hardly Brenda's voice as he knew it, nor was her face the pleasant countenance he was used to seeing. A bit taken aback by the unexpected expression, he decided -wisely- to wait. Also, he couldn't help noticing, he felt a different kind of fear for the first time. It wasn't in what she did; it was in her expression. As she looked at him with her intent blue eyes, the image of his loving wife came back to his memory, a pang of guilt invading his conscience.

"Now I want you to listen to me, and listen to me well," the new Brenda said. "For the next hour the rules are going to be somewhat different around here. You'll have to do anything I tell you to, and you'll have to do it quickly and well. Do you understand?"

His knees involuntary starting to shake, he said,

"Yes."

"You are going to finish all your sentences with the words Miss Brenda, is that clear?" she surprised him.

"Hey, wait a." he tried to complain.

Brenda stamped her bare foot on the floor so loudly and close to the little man that a wave of terror took possession of his entire being and he was left speechless with fear.

"Is that clear?" Brenda shouted at him.

"Yes. Miss Brenda."

"That's better," she wickedly smiled. "Now." she slowly added moving her face forward, "get on your knees."

Little Albert hesitated for a couple of seconds but finally understood he was in no position to argue. He somehow managed to control his shaking legs and take the kneeling position he had been ordered to. The view of triumphal Brenda from his knees was even more impressive than what he was so far used to.

Once the little man was on his knees and waiting in fear for what was to come, Brenda allowed herself to relax a little, making sure her relaxation was evident to him. She sat back on her chair, crossed her legs into a comfortable position to stress the difference between their conditions, and said,

"From now on you are to do only what I tell you and nothing else. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Miss Brenda," was his meek answer.

"You are not allowed to talk unless talked to or asked to," she continued. "You are to refer to me only as Miss Brenda and in no other way, and you are to perform immediately whatever I order you to do without argument or hesitation. I'm a little tired of your constant insult and abuse, and you better make sure that I never become too tired of them. Believe me, it's in your own benefit. Do you get that?"

"Yes, Miss Brenda," he obediently said.

"Until our sixty minute window is over you'll serve me as I tell you and to the best of your ability. Any rebellion or even disagreement won't be tolerated, and I strongly suggest you don't test the limits of my patience. If you are a good boy I'll be good to you. If you, instead, opt to challenge me, I'll understand that as a little declaration of war and I won't hesitate to use all my weapons. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Miss Brenda," he responded.

"Good. Now, once the hour is over we'll get back to our usual mode of Mr. Albert Williams and complacent nanny Brenda, but that will go on that way as long as you don't cross the barriers I already told you about. The minute you pass beyond the limit again you'll soon find yourself in dear trouble. Any questions?"

The frightened little man quickly nodded negatively a few times, without opening his mouth.

"Good, then," Brenda finished, allowing a little smile appear on her lips. "Your task for the remaining time is to clean the sandals you've helped get dirty. You may go and find the cleaning stuff yourself. I don't care where you find it. If it happens to be hidden or too high up I'll consider it your problem, and not mine. I don't care whether you use the right cleaning rugs or one of your best shirts. I demand results and you better make sure you finish your task well before your hour is over, because then you'll also have to wash and clean my feet. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Miss Brenda, but."

He was instantly cut off when he saw her smile fade away and her gigantic body lean forward again.

"But what?" she asked threateningly. He hesitated for a couple of seconds.

"Nothing, Miss Brenda."

"Good, then," she finished. "Off you go!" and, indifferently getting up and walking past the tiny kneeling man, Brenda went to lie comfortably down on the long sofa, took a magazine, and started reading it as if nothing whatsoever had happened.

Little Mr. Williams slowly got up, gave a few uncertain steps, and then moved faster to get his job done. He had never done such menial a thing as polishing shoes in his life, let alone sexy sandals almost as big as he was, six times their usual size. Never stopping snatching fearful glances at the indifferent giantess that had sentenced him to his peculiar forced labor, he managed to find the right elements for the job, and quickly started to work at it.

Funnily enough, polishing giant sandals wasn't as horrible a she thought it would be. In actual fact, there was something about it that was quite pleasing and exciting. The oversized leather straps, the imposing robustness of the strong soles, the faint foot odor mixed with the grass, water, and shoe polish he was now using. All of it created an unexpected picture of suggestion and surrender that got more and more into the little man's system. And while he steadily worked at those sandals he continued to look surreptitiously at the relaxed, beautiful giantess that lay down comfortably on the sofa, seemingly indifferent to the whole process and incredibly attractive in her calm bare feet, which she idly swung to and fro while reading her magazine. God, she was so beautiful, he thought. She was so huge, yet ravishingly sexy. And she was so tough and strong-willed when she wanted. And she could do absolutely whatever she wanted with him, because he was such a midget in comparison and because he gave her the right excuse with his continuous challenge.

But no! He thought. No, no, and no! No pretty woman, no matter how attractive, how gigantic, was going to make him look like a fool by giving him ridiculous tasks to perform. He was the great Albert Williams, just temporarily impaired by a strange illness, and no one would ever take advantage of him. No matter at what size. Yes, he decided. He'd play along with her and then abide his time for escape or liberation.

"So?" he was suddenly brought back to the real world by Brenda's demanding question. She was looking at him from the sofa. "Have you finished with my sandals?" she asked sharply.

"Yes, I have," the tiny man answered.

"Yes, what?" the giantess demanded.

"Yes, Miss Brenda," her quickly added.

"Good, then," she continued. "Now bring them over here and get ready to wash my feet."

Little Albert dragged his cleaning elements and added a gigantic towel he somehow managed to snatch out of the bathroom. Brenda crossed her legs majestically, and said,

"First this foot," and she pointed at the one hanging.

The little man, although finding the position a bit high and uncomfortable, was happy to have such a privileged contact with what had become an object of desire. He worked at those beautiful feet laboriously for what seemed to be a very long time. Brenda was still occupied with her reading so he could allow himself long, lascivious looks at her toes, soles, and ankles.

"Enough," she snapped at him when he was giving the last drying touches to her second foot. "Now, help me put my sandals on."

Little Albert hurried to bring the sandals closer and assist his beautiful gigantic nanny to put them on. Then, standing like a looming tower in all her conquering height, and making him look completely insignificant, Brenda looked down at him and said,

"You've done a good job."

"Thank you, Miss Brenda," he modestly answered.

"Now get again on your knees and kiss my feet once more," she finished.

Little Albert quickly obeyed and got back on his feet. By the time he looked up at her again, the kind, sweet smile was back on Brenda's face.

"Well, sir," she said with the joyful tone characteristic of the young woman. "The hour is over now. May I suggest we finish our gardening lesson?"

Completely puzzled at her change of expression he hesitated for a couple of seconds and said,

"Yes, Miss Brenda."

"Oh, Mr. Williams," was her lively remark. "No need to call me 'Miss' any more."

"Yes, M. Brenda."

She naughtily winked at him and said,

"Would you follow me, sir?"

A very obedient Mr. Albert Williams followed the once more friendly giantess out to the garden.

Their first gardening lesson ended an hour later. Brenda had immediately recovered her usual self, teaching with good mood and attitude, as if nothing had happened only a few minutes before. Mr. Williams, instead, took much longer to start feeling comfortable again. More than once he used the 'Miss' title before Brenda's name, which always made her smile a little before telling him there was no need for that as long he behaved. She continued to call him 'Sir' and was the professional nanny she was supposed to be. It was very clear to him that it depended entirely on himself whether she was good or not to him. There was only one key to the situation, and that was compliance. or obedience, which he hated. Much as he fancied her and was constantly in need to look up at her in awe, he also made up his mind not to forget she was the 'enemy', and had to be hated even though his instincts clearly demanded something else.

The lesson marked the end of the afternoon activities. Little Albert was given half an hour for recreation, after which -like the previous day- there came the evening bath and dinner. Brenda and Mr. Williams had a pleasant meal, faithfully served by dear old Olga, who came in for a few hours a day to cook and take care of some indispensable cleaning.

When they finished and went into the main room to watch some TV together, little Albert Williams couldn't help noticing how incredibly attractive Brenda became when dressed up for dinner. She was wearing a simple knee-length, dark blue dress, and black stockings with a high heel pair of shoes. Her long, blond hair, made up in an impossibly high bun, marked deeply the beauty of her long, white neck. Her jewelry was scant and simple, just earrings, necklace and a modest diamond ring. But the beauty of her body and face, the whiteness of her long hands and fingers, and the grace of her movements and gait, was driving him mad with desire.

Suddenly he wanted her to be his. What the heck! He had cheated on his wife so many times and with such less pretty women than Brenda. It was true he was only a fraction of what he had been then, but he was sure his charm was still as good as ever. He began to realize that as long as he tried the hard way he would only set the giantess against him. That was no way to gain her attention; not in the way he wanted, at least. No. He'd have to try the seductive method, the one that had worked on other occasions. Yes. That was what he needed to achieve in order to gain her to his power. It all made so much sense! First he'd seduce her and somehow take her to bed. That way he'd get rid of the desire that was driving him mad. Then, once she'd fallen for him, he'd be able to control her at his will. She'd become his obedient servant and not the other way around. How come he had never realized so far how easy it all was!

Following Brenda behind her clicking heels, he waited for her to ask him whether he wanted to watch this or that channel and said,

"Look, Brenda. I've been really thinking about these last two days, and I came to the conclusion that I've been quite wrong about trying to challenge you at every step. I know you've been hired for a specific job, and I also think you are doing it extremely well."

"Well, thank you, sir," she said, a bit taken aback.

"You're welcome, Brenda," he answered. "That's why I was thinking that tonight, instead of watching some silly movie on TV, maybe we can just spend some time together and use it to get to know each other a bit better. you know, just chat a little and stuff."

"It's fine by me, sir," Brenda said, a tiny light of suspicion turning on somewhere in her instincts. "As long as you are in bed by ten o'clock, I'm quite open to do whatever you like in your spare time."

'The bastard', he thought. By ten o'clock! But he didn't say anything; neither did he alter his smile. He just quickly snatcher a glance at the wall clock; it said ten to nine. All right, he decided; it gave him plenty of time to have her in his grip before the seventy minutes were over.

"Of course, Brenda," he quickly added.

"So, sir," she smiled. "What shall we do, then?"

"Oh," he thought quickly, "just sit down here and tell me a bit about yourself, you know." He pointed to the sofa, where Brenda comfortably sat, crossing her amazing legs. Now that she was dressed up, the beauty of her body was twice enhanced. First he had thought to sit on the sofa next to her, but then he decided to grab one of the little chairs made for him and sit right in front, so he could have a nicer view. Her face was very pretty, but her legs made his mouth water. In any case there would be plenty of time for everything throughout the night.

"Oh, what can I tell you, sir," she smiled a little to herself. "I'm just a regular girl, I guess. I come from a modest family, the middle sister of two more. I finished my college education about four years ago and have been working ever since."

"Are you married?" he wanted to know.

"Oh, no, I'm not," a little red appeared on her face. "But I do have a boyfriend, sir."

"Oh, really?" he feigned interest. "And? Are you going to marry him?"

"Oh, I don't really know, sir," Brenda said. "We've had our ups and downs, you know."

"I see," he wasn't really going to listen to the story of her life. "I'm pretty sure that sooner or later you'll find the right man. You are a very pretty woman," he finished, inadvertently looking at her legs.

Brenda was beginning to enjoy the little man's change of tactics. At least she had to admit that he was a bit more imaginative than she had thought and he certainly knew how to speak when he put his mind to it. Was it that way he had managed to conquer Sonia?

"Well, sir," Brenda went on. "I can't complain, sir, but."

"Brenda," he interrupted her with tact. "Please stop calling me Sir when you address me."

"Well, sir, I'm not sure."

"Just Albert, Brenda, just Albert."

Alright, Albert," Brenda accepted.

Seeing she looked relaxed he offered her a drink, step number two.

"How about some brandy?" he asked cheerfully.

"Oh, no, Albert," Brenda became concerned. I shouldn't drink. Neither should you."

"Please, Brenda," he insisted. "Only a little; nothing dangerous. I promise."

She gave it a little thought and said,

Alright, but only a little, OK?" And motioned to get up, but he stopped her.

"Oh, no. Please let me take care of it," he surprised her. And, quickly jumping to his feet, he walked to a low table that contained a few bottles and tumblers. Skillfully taking the top off the brandy bottle, he managed to pour two glasses, which he clumsily brought back to the sofa.

Brenda followed his awkward movements with a mixture of interest and amusement. 'What he wouldn't do to get things his way', she thought.

Once back, he handed the giantess her glass and said,

"Cheers!"

They clinked their glasses carefully and drank their contents with gusto.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Oh, sure, Albert. I am. Thank you for your generosity."

"Oh, nonsense," he quickly added. "You know? I'm a rich man." ('There we go', she thought). "And I'm used to the good things of life. And I don't mind sharing them at all with the people I really like." And he made a suggestive face at her.

"I see," she carefully answered.

"So, tell me," he couldn't restrain his curiosity. "Do you get on with your boyfriend?"

"Oh," she said shyly, "nowadays much better, yes."

"And before?" he wanted to know.

"Well, you see," she leaned slightly forward to make her point clear. "Some time ago I found out he was cheating on me. And that's wrong. Isn't it, Albert?"

He looked at her intense eyes and wondered for a second whether she was hinting something at him. But he was confident of his resources and wasn't going to stop his plan.
"Of course," he quickly answered. Very bad indeed. So, what happened?"

"Well," she continued. "I was very upset first, of course, but we did manage to work it out somehow. And now I think he's changed a lot."

The little man waited for her to go on, but she surprised him with her sudden question,

"And what about you, Albert?"

"Oh, well," he said, "I come from an upper middle class family and never had any major struggle to get things in life. I married Sonia fifteen years ago, when I was still very young, and have lived with her ever since."

"Are you happy together?" she risked.

"Sure we are, honey!" he reassured her. "We are very happy together. You know, I can be a lot of fun."

'Sure you can', she thought. 'Just look at you right now'.

"I see." she said.

How about listening to some music?" The little man suggested.

"Sure, why not," Brenda replied.

For that job, though, he had to follow her to the stereo, which was high up. 'Damn it!' He thought. 'I have to be so fucking dependent!'

After they chose some light saxo stuff, they went back to their seats.

"Do you mind if I sit on the sofa next to you?" he took a further step.

"No. Not at all," Brenda decided there was no harm in it.

Thus, with a little alcohol down their systems and the suggestive music filling up the room, little Albert sat on the sofa, very close to giantess Brenda, who looked more and more gorgeous by the minute.

"Brenda," he continued with his plan, "How about some dancing?"

"But Albert!" she exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "How are we going to manage that! It's. it's impossible!"

"Yes, I know," he smiled widely at not finding any major objections. "Let me take care of that, alright? Come on, only one piece."

"Well," she consented. "But only one. OK? It's also getting a bit late."

Albert quickly jumped to the floor and signaled to Brenda to stand up. She still didn't know what he had in mind, but before she realized, he had just hugged one of her legs and put his cheek to it. Brenda couldn't help a wave of pity pass through her thoughts.

Albert was in the seventh heaven. The sensation was so fantastic, so arousing, so unique. He could feel the strength and warmth of her long, firm, and beautiful leg. Then he looked up to see what her reaction had been. She was just looking down at him, a simple smile on her face, waiting for him to finish his little stint. He embraced her leg with renewed enthusiasm and even dared kiss her foot a little.

"Albert." Brenda said. Then, seeing his fascination, she crouched down and softly placed her white hands on his shoulders to gently move him away from her. Feeling the overwhelming superiority of her position over his, she sweetly slipped a finger under his chin and, pushing it up a little for their eyes to meet, said,

"Albert. Maybe we should call it off and go to sleep."

"But, why?" he asked. "Aren't you having a good time?"

"Sure I am, doll, but, you see, this is wrong. We should be careful. You are a married man, I am involved too, and I've only been hired to take care of you for a couple of weeks until your wife comes back."

"But she doesn't have to know," he objected.

"Know about what, doll?" she withdrew her finger.

"Well, about this, our little romance," he said.

"There's no romance here I'm afraid, Albert," she said more firmly. "And now it's time for bed."

"Hey, hold on!" he protested, "What do you mean?"

"Albert," she said standing up again and thus stressing their size difference again, "I really enjoyed talking to you tonight, but it's time for you to go to sleep now."

"No!" he shouted. "I don't want to go to sleep. I want to stay here with you! Besides, it's not ten o'clock yet."

"Well, yes, you are right there," she granted. "But if we stay we'll just watch TV, or something, OK?"

"Alright," he accepted reluctantly.

So, they put the TV set on, but he couldn't take his eyes off Brenda anymore. Plus his pride was hurt because his plan had so totally failed. Little by little he started to get closer to her on the sofa they were sharing and, thinking she wouldn't realize, gently rested his arm on her huge lap. Brenda swiftly pushed it off with the tip of her long nail. This flimsiest of contacts was enough to make his blood boil. Standing up on his tiny feet, he went for her breasts, but before he reached them, she had caught his outstretched arms in her powerful hands.

"Albert, don't push it," she warned him.

"So your boyfriend used to cheat on you?" he shouted defiantly. "I must have cheated a million times on Sonia and there she is, still madly in love with me! And now I want to cheat on her with you. So what!"

He rudely pushed aside her hands and made another go at it. Brenda could have stood up and just made it impossible for him to touch her, but now she needed to regain the authority she had temporarily lost and that move only wouldn't have been enough. Either he controlled himself or she'd have to make sure he'd fear her again. Within seconds their little skirmish had turned into an open (and certainly uneven) fight.

Then, immobilizing him with her firm hands, she said,

"Sir, if you continue this nonsense I'll have to use more strength."

The only answer she got was an intensification of his kicking and fist waving that finally got the best of her patience. Grabbing little Albert roughly with one hand, she deftly undid his belt buckle with her strong nails. Then, quickly taking his pants and underpants off, she proceeded to stretch him across her lap, bottom up, and slapped it noisily.

"Aaaaauch!" little Albert shouted. "That hurt!"

"Of course it did, puppy," she said calmly. "And the more you continue with your little fit the more it will."

Bitch!" he didn't give up and renewed his futile efforts to get rid of her viselike grip.

Brenda administered a few more slaps, quite strongly, in quick succession. Albert's bottom became immediately red with pain. This time around it really hurt him.

"Stop!" he shouted. "Stop!"

"Sure I will, little man," she teased him. "But you have to promise to calm down and go straight to bed."

"No! Never!" he still defied her.

The following barrage was meant not to stop until getting the demanded answer. Brenda simply spanked the hell out or the pleading man. She continued her punishment through his pitiful screams and cries for mercy.

"Please, please, please stop!" he was imploring as he desperately wriggled to try to break free. "I can't take it any more! Please stop, Miss Brenda!"

Suddenly interrupting her steady slaps, she asked with strict tone,

"Are you going to stop the nonsense and go to bed now?"

"Yes, yes!" he shouted. "I am! Please stop!"

"Are you going to try to touch me again, you little clown?"

"No. No. I swear!" he cried.

"Good, then," she finished. "Now run quickly to your room and change into your pajamas before I get there to put you to bed."

The scared little man didn't even wait to get his pants back. He just saw the magnificence of Brenda calmly crossed legs on his way down, and couldn't help thinking that while he was sorrowfully begging her to stop he formidable reprisal, the effort of it hadn't even cost her the trouble of an uncomfortable position.

Brenda saw the little man quickly limping to his chambers, holding with his tiny hands his bright red rear as he ran. She waited a couple of minutes to give him time to change and then walked slowly to his bedroom. He was still changing but hastened the procedure as he saw her come in. Then he got into bed, hoping to see a nicer Brenda before saying goodnight.

But tonight there wasn't going to be any siren song. The giantess indifferently tidied this and that up, giving a perfunctory look to the bed to make sure little Albert was properly lying on it.

"Good night," she said without emotion, and carelessly closed the door behind her on the way out.

The little man swallowed bitter tears in the darkness of his huge room, his thoughts were confused, and he didn't feel tired in the least, only pain. But he knew he'd better fall asleep soon. Tomorrow was another day, and it would start invariably at six o'clock.

Why?

Because his nanny had determined so.

When little Albert Williams opened his eyes next morning his instincts immediately told him something was wrong. As he blinked in confusion to the new day after a long and restless sleep, all the distressing memories of the previous night got back to him, not less the sharp pain he still felt on his little butt. Nonetheless there was no signs of Brenda anywhere in the room, which became highly suspicious as he eyed the clock, clearly indicating seven o'clock, a full extra hour beyond his strict nanny's schedule. Much as he had hated being woken against his will the previous morning, the absence of the giantess now proved to be much worse in effect. It definitely wasn't like her, and a distressing little light of alarm clicked itself on in his mind. Suddenly he wished she was here, drawing open the curtains and quarreling with him to make him get up.

Little Albert clambered out of bed and gave a few tentative steps toward the door, which was open. His rear still hurt, and so did the recollections of the night before, when he had so blatantly thrown into Brenda's face the fact that he was happy about his and other men's cheating on their wives and girlfriends, which dangerously included Brenda's own boyfriend. Little Albert wondered whether he had crossed a no-return line with his outburst.

Still in his pajamas, walking carefully into the living room, he felt quite released when he caught sight of the beautiful giantess sitting at the breakfast table, reading the newspaper.

"Good morning to you!" he said cheerfully as if to hint that he was quite ready to forget the lamentable experience of the night before.

"Good morning," Brenda answered with impersonal and indifferent voice, not looking at him.

"Eh, ah. I wonder what's for breakfast, Brenda," he risked. "I mean, cereal will be perfectly alright, you know." He felt he was granting a big concession here.

No answer came from the beautiful giantess, who never stopped reading.

"Brenda, I'm a bit hungry, you know. Plus. what happened that you didn't wake me up at six, as you said you would?" He was trying to guess at her attitude.

He soon got his answer,

"There is no schedule or program anymore," she simply said. "Go have whatever you want to eat."

"Eh. but you told me I can't have any sweets and, you know."

No answer.

"Brenda?"

Nothing.

Little Albert Williams got closer to the beautiful woman's imposing legs to make sure he'd enter her sight range and said,

"Brenda? Can you answer me? I'm hungry and I want to eat something. Can you bring me something from the kitchen?" and he added, "Please?"

Her answer confirmed his fears,

"I'm sorry, Albert. I'm not at your service anymore. I talked to your wife yesterday late at night after you went to sleep and I told her I wasn't interested in the job after your behavior."

"What do you mean?" he said angrily. "You've been hired to look after me for two weeks until my wife's return, and I expect you to do your job thoroughly, whether you like it or not. It hasn't been easy for me either, you know. Besides I can't stay here with Olga alone; she's far too old and doesn't even stay here the whole day. You know I need some help with some little things and, and, and that's what you're being paid for, what the hell!"

"Well, Albert," Brenda said indifferently," you hardly need to worry about anything or anyone anymore. Olga isn't coming any longer, either. As for your wife, well, she told me to stay as long as I wish in here, as a gesture after an aborted job. But I don't have to interact with you at all; neither do you have to pay any attention to me. So, there you are. You are free to do as you wish. Now you are your own master; at least until your wife comes back. So, as I said, go over to the kitchen and help yourself to some food. Now, if you don't mind, I'll continue to read my paper. Please try not to disturb me."

"What do you mean Olga isn't coming?" he insisted. "Who's going to take care of food shopping and cleaning and."

The giantess's eyes didn't move from her newspaper.

"Brenda?" he said. "Brenda? Brenda, for God's sake! What the hell are you doing?" But, as he saw no reaction, he just came back to his usual arrogant self and said,

"Ohhh, @!#$ you all!" and made for the kitchen with little strides meant to provoke a lot of noise but that were actually hardly audible.

He found a tidy kitchen quite well provided with food and beverages. Maybe too tidy, he thought. Everything seemed to be shelved up high there and was hardly accessible to him at his mere 12 inches of height.

His first attempts at getting even the simplest elements were a complete failure. Everything was so hard and inconvenient: opening the fridge, climbing up the kitchen counter, handling the huge kitchen utensils. So he tried the cereal instead, which was placed in the cabinet right above the front window. That proved to be impossible. He had managed to pile up a few boxes and was standing on his tiptoes trying to reach the bottom of the doors, when Brenda came into the kitchen, stood at the sink, very close to him and his useless efforts, and started washing her few dishes without paying any attention to him.

Little Albert was somehow stretched between the boxes under his tiny feet and the high cabinet touching his fingertips and got himself into a position where the least movement would make him collapse dangerously onto the counter's marble surface. Much as he tried to make his plight evident, Brenda simply continued with her indifferent washing. At a given moment the impossibility of his body position just reached its limit and he clumsily rolled down the boxes and to the edge of the counter. He didn't manage to minimize his fall either, so he found himself hanging from the edge, his legs frantically kicking in the air, right next to the gigantic woman, who was nonchalantly finishing her washing. Little Albert saw the chair he had used to climb up too far to reach it with his feet, so he tried to swing himself to get hold of Brenda's dress pocket and use it as a temporary foothold. But although it was evident he was in dear need of help, the giantess suddenly turned around and left the kitchen within a second, leaving behind the desperate barefoot cliffhanger, struggling to save his bones. Still scared, his little heart beating incredibly fast, little Albert finally managed to hook one of his little feet onto the marble again and stand once more on the surface.

"@!#$ it," he thought. "She couldn't care less if I died here on the spot.

Soon realizing proper feeding would have to wait a little, he made his way down to the floor via the aforementioned chair and went to the bathroom for a morning cleansing and washing. Things there proved to be as hard as in the kitchen, if not more. He did manage to climb up the toilet seat for his evacuation, but he had to be extra careful with his performance. The last thing he needed was to find himself floating with his own pooh for fellow swimmer. Access to the high water sink and taps was obviously denied. He wasn't going to perform any acrobatics above the hard bathroom tiles to risk braking his legs, or neck.

Tired of wearing his pajamas for what seemed to be half the morning already, he went back to his chambers to change into something more decent. Most of his specially designed clothes were kept in the highest of a chest of drawers, carefully closed. He thought about going back to the living room and demanding Brenda's help again, but he knew it would be a waste of time. Scouring the house, he found an old screwdriver which he used as a lever to pry the drawer open, hardly succeeding in cracking a narrow strip through which he managed to slip into the drawer and take out a few essential clothes.

The sweating of the long night unwashed by a non-existing morning shower made the changing into a new outfit ridiculous and distressing. He could smell his own armpits and couldn't think of a plausible solution for such an unexpected problem. He even considered going out to the garden to find a puddle at floor level, but immediately changed his mind at such a disgusting view.

"I can't take this anymore," he said to himself, and decided to go for a real, serious chat with the woman that was causing him such a problem.

He found Brenda comfortably sitting on a fine armchair listening to some quiet music.

"Look here, lady," he opened his speech. "You are in my house, alright? And here we do what I say. Now, I know I may have been a bit hard over the last two days, but that doesn't give you the right to just forget about your obligations toward me and ignore me as if I didn't exist. I'm afraid that unless you change your attitude I'll have to contact my wife and ask her to get back here immediately and settle down accounts with you. We may even take you to court. Do you understand?"

He expected at least the shadow of an answer, but he didn't get even that. He felt like hitting and beating Brenda, which his system was crying for, but the sheer sight of her mighty legs, not to mentioned the rest of her powerful body, was an effective deterrent that kept him from embarking into any stupid enterprises.

"Very good, then," he finished. "I'm phoning my wife right now."

No sooner had he uttered his words that he realized he didn't have a clue as to where his wife was. He had never asked. He had never cared.

"All right," he said loudly to Brenda, pretending impatience. "You bring that hotel number to me!"

Once again, there was no response. He was starting to get really worried when the phone suddenly rang. "Bingo!" he thought, "It must be her".

"I'll get that!" he shouted. But Brenda had already calmly gotten up from her armchair and answered the phone, far too high for the little man to reach.

"Yes, Sonia," she said confidently. "Everything is alright."

In the meantime, little Albert had started to jump up and down, screaming at the top of his thin voice.

"I want to talk to her. Put her through! Put her through!"

Brenda continued unmoved for quite a few long minutes and, only after she had finished reporting extensively to her employer (who she now called by her first name), did she bother to say,

"By the way, Sonia, your husband would like to have a word with you. Shall I put him through?"

The little clown suddenly interrupted his funny fit in order to get ready to handle the huge receiver he thought Brenda would hand him, when he nearly fainted when hearing her say,
"Oh, you don't? I understand. Yes, no problem, Sonia. OK, we'll speak soon. Continue to enjoy your vacation. Don't worry about me, I'm alright. Bye." And she hung up.

The open-mouthed little man watched in disbelief the beautiful giantess make her way back to the comfortable seat to continue to listen to her music.

All his protestations went absolutely nowhere. He must have pleaded with her for a very long time before he got tired of not being paid the slightest attention. By the time he retired into his room the strange feeling of a few hours ago had turned into the worst worry of his life. He was all by himself now. No cook, no assistant, no wife, no family, no nothing.

Lunch -or the lack thereof- was to become a real nightmare. Once again Brenda made herself something simple yet substantial to eat, whereas little Albert didn't have anything to do but watch her from below as a little dependent dog waiting patiently for its mistress to prepare its food. Only that our little hero wasn't as lucky as a house pet and there was nothing whatsoever made for him.

So he followed Brenda into the living room and stood there, by her giant feet, hoping to awake her pity at his desolate sight. But the longer he waited the more he realized how in vain it was. The giantess was having her meal quietly without paying the tiny man any attention and, knowing her as he had learnt to for the last two days, he saw clearly he might as well use his time and efforts in a more creative way.

He was about to give up and make for the kitchen when, suddenly, a small piece of bread fell off the table, playfully landing next to the giantess's feet. The whole thing happened so unexpectedly that the little man didn't really have time to think about what he was doing. His hunger made him run instinctively for the morsel but, a couple of inches before he reached the coveted prize, Brenda's long fingers came down gracefully from above and, before he could do anything about it, her delicate yet frightening hand was lifting his brief hope up into the air and back onto the table.

This simple example of what the situation was really like had such a devastating effect on the little man that he felt almost completely drained out of energy to think how to get his own food.

Once in the kitchen he tried to fix himself something to eat. Tins and conserves were out of the question. How would he open them? Then, using the same screwdriver he had opened the drawer with, he attempted to separate the fridge door from the main body of the appliance. The whole thing proved to be much heavier than imagined, and he had to clamber his way in, using the screwdriver to hold the door as he examined the interior. He saw but a couple of vegetables at foot level, which he had never found tasty. He considered the cheeses and other edibles on the upper shelves and was about to climb the inner structure when he saw the door dangerously threatening to close on him and make him the prisoner of a very cold cell indeed. Before risking such a prospect, he quickly opted to take the lonely tomato and cucumber he saw in the bottom plastic drawers and make the best of them. After a long process trying to cut them this way and that he had finally managed to primitively quench the hunger biting at his stomach. He hated every mouthful he took and his pride was hurt forever at knowing he had just finished off the meager provisions accessible to him in the whole household. He knew he'd be hungry again in no time and he also knew Brenda wouldn't supply him in any way. While he had still been struggling to cut a huge knife into the hard cucumber, she had come into the kitchen to wash her dishes and put things back in the fridge. She hadn't even looked at him. He simply couldn't hope to count on her cooperation even when he was clearly having a terrible time.

The rest of the day was a nightmare. Brenda kept having a leisurely time, watching TV, reading, lying down on the couch, or strolling along the garden. She also talked once to her boyfriend on the phone. Little Albert listened attentively now to their conversation and had to admit that it sounded really smooth. Obviously she got on well with other people, including Sonia, his wife. Was he -Albert- the problem, then?

A few times he tried to talk to her but she wouldn't listen. His hunger level got really bad toward the evening and became unbearable when Brenda made herself something to eat. He could feel his stomach growl and again stood at her feet while she sat at the table.

"Brenda, please," he pleaded. "I'm very hungry. I've eaten nothing all day but a tasteless tomato and I am at the end of my rope. Please give me something to eat. I promise I'll be good and not cause you any trouble at all."

"Well," Brenda unexpectedly answered, "I thought you said you didn't need anyone or anything to help you. That you wanted to be left alone and we should all go home and stop bothering you."

"Well, yes," he tried to justify himself. "But there are certain things I can't manage. I'll admit that. In any case, what's the big deal if you give me a hand and make some food for me?"

Then she gave him the answer bottled up in her for the last two long days,

"I'll tell you what the big deal is, Albert," Brenda said with resolution. "The big deal is that you are a hell of a horrible person, and not only have you made your wife's life miserable, but you also don't show the least sign of regret. Even more: you shout to the four winds how proud you are of it all. So I just don't feel like helping such a little bastard. That's all."

Albert was taken aback at Brenda's attack but, much as he was hurt, his pride once more took over.

"That's none of your business," he said defiantly.

'I've been through it myself with my boyfriend and I totally sympathize with your wife. But, in any case, it is my business to choose to help whoever I want. And I'm certainly not going to help nasty people. And that's all I have to say."

Albert added something else but got no response. So he waited for a couple of minutes and had another go,

"Brenda."

But the giantess had clearly closed their communication channels once more. The little man soon realized he had missed a golden chance. And that realization came together with renewed, more intense hunger pangs in his stomach. He desperately looked for an alternative plan, something to do, someone to phone, but couldn't think of anything effective.

An hour later, as Brenda was comfortably sitting on the couch watching TV and the poor little man didn't know what to do with himself, he decided there was nothing whatsoever for him to try to invent. She had him by the balls and he knew she wouldn't give up until admitting defeat. He'd have to do it whether he liked it or not, whether he agreed with it or not, whether she was right or not. Carefully approaching the giant legs of his conqueror, Albert said,

"Brenda, you are right."

The giantess took a few long seconds to judge the veracity of his tone and slowly took the remote control and switched the TV set off.

"I'm listening," she said, totally becoming the master of the situation.

"I've been bad; I mean it," the little man opened. "I did make my wife suffer and I've kept doing it to this day. Not only her, but also her family, and friends, and assistants here at home. Her life has become a nightmare because of me and I never gave a damn. It is also true that I've taken pride in it and made everything possible not to let her go even when it was obvious her life was collapsing. I used her infatuation with me to my selfish needs and never showed the least compassion for her sorrow, even when I was cheating on her and everybody knew it. I've never worked nor have I done any good to anybody except myself. and maybe not even myself."

For the first time Brenda gave clear signs of interest, albeit mixed with a high level of suspicion.

"Why are you telling me this?" she tried him. "Only because you are hungry?"

"No," he quickly replied. "You aren't like my wife. I can always count on her compassion, or weakness, as I understand it. I know I can get away with murder with her. But you've shown me very clearly that you are made of a different material. I might be wicked, but I'm far from being a fool. I don't want to find myself on the brink of starvation before you give my case some thought. I know it when I've lost a battle and I'd like to formally surrender to you now. I promise to be good until my wife's return, and also to treat her better once she's back."

Brenda took a few minutes to debate his statement with herself, while the little man patiently waited for her verdict.

"There's only one way I'm ready to give you a final chance," she eventually said.

"Which is." he said carefully.

"You are to be mine," Brenda asserted. "I'll feed you and make sure you survive the remaining time till Sonia's return, but you'll have to subject yourself to my treatment. You'll have to obey me at any time without questioning me. And if you accept my conditions now there'll be no comebacks. If you ever challenge or defy me I'll just implement the reprisal I consider fit. And, I promise, you are going to miss with tears the days you were just hungry."

"But, what treatment?" little Mr. Williams was curious to know.

"I'll make of you a. reliable husband," she slowly replied.

"Only that?" he still inquired.

"It might be a hard process with you," the shadow of a smile took shape on her face.

"A deal!" he said

"A deal," she repeated; but offered no finger- hand- shake this time around. The giantess stood up and simply said,

"Follow me."

The little man, with a mixture of fear and satisfaction, ran quickly behind his mistress wherever she'd take him.

Brenda continued her steady, firm walk through the house and got into the kitchen, little Albert always running behind. He was hopeful she'd feed him first, and couldn't be happier to see her take something out of the fridge and start chopping it up on the counter. As she worked at it for a couple of minutes, the little man waited impatiently at her feet, like an eager puppy that knows its food is coming soon. He was slightly taken aback when he saw a piece of cheese fly down to him and land on the ground. He quickly looked up at Brenda who, with a stern expression on her face, said,

"Go ahead, take it and eat it."

The little man couldn't consider it any longer; he was desperately hungry and was quite willing to swallow his proud before anything else. Grabbing the tiny piece of cheese with trembling hands, he proceeded to devour it, like a starving mouse that hadn't eaten in weeks. Finishing it off in no time, he saw Brenda sitting on one of the chairs in the large kitchen. She had a small plate on her lap from which she took another morsel and indifferently dropped it to the ground, right next to her feet. Little Albert ran toward it and bit it repeatedly with gusto. Other pieces continued to stream down and the tiny man continued to gulp them down, hardly realizing what he looked like next to the gigantic legs that were looming over him.

After a short while, the giantess carefully placed a small slice of sausage on her own foot and said,

"Now, little man, cross your arms behind your back and eat that off my foot without using your hands."

The appalled tiny millionaire looked up at the beautiful giant nanny as if in disbelief, but he easily saw she meant every word she had just pronounced, so he did as he had been told and had to manage to carry out his orders as well as he could. It was quite a sight. A triumphal, conquering giantess, sitting at ease with her long legs crossed, and a little, frightened man timidly and quickly licking the remains of a tiny piece of food off her imposing feet.

This ceremony continued for quite a while, so hungry was the little clown. And the more he ate and satiated, the more evident it became to him to what a pitiful level he had descended. As he started to relax a little, the little man suddenly felt the pain of his situation. His arms were hurting behind his back and food and saliva were messily gathering around his mouth.

"Don't even think of uncrossing your arms," Brenda threateningly said, guessing at his intentions.

The food continued to come steadily, first calming him and later filling him up. He would have gladly stopped when finally satisfied, but Brenda's look clearly indicated he'd have to continue until told otherwise. After a long time, when he felt completely saturated by it and about to explode, Brenda said,

"Good. Now uncross your arms and follow me behind."

Quickly dumping the few dishes into the sink, the giantess strode out of the kitchen into the main room again, little Albert always running behind. Once there, she sat on the sofa and ordered,

"Bring me the remote control."

The poor midget ran for it and handed it to the commanding woman, who snatched it roughly out of his hands.

"Now kneel down in front of me, and look at my feet only."

Albert didn't have the least idea of what was going on, but he couldn't allow himself the luxury of asking. So he just bent his knees and knelt down in front of the giantess's sexy legs, of which he could only see their feet, as he had been commanded, while she idly watched TV. He stayed in that position for a very, very long time. So much so that he started to wonder whether the woman had fallen asleep or something, which he wisely doubted. But even more than being concerned about her wishes, little Albert was amazed at the beauty of her feet. She was wearing simple house slippers but, as her legs were crossed, the one of her hanging foot was down on the floor, so her gigantic and beautiful toes were almost touching his little face. He was fascinated by the foot's shape and hidden secret anatomical view, only visible at such short range.

Every now and then, Brenda would uncross her legs to cross them again in the opposite direction, and with every second that went on he felt more and more aroused. He felt his little penis going rock-hard and had an increasing urge to get more and more of that. Several times he felt compelled to look up at the rest of her massive legs and have a view of paradise with them, but he was afraid of being caught disobeying his orders and wouldn't risk it. After what seemed to be an endless amount of time, he suddenly heard her voice boom,

"Now start licking my toes, one by one from left to right. I want to feel you are cleaning them from the tiniest particle there might be in there. And you better do a good job."

The little man got up to his hurting feet and immediately started to do his new job. Hardly to his surprise any more, he found it even more arousing than the sheer contemplation of them. As his desire grew to huge proportions, he started to fondle himself with alternate hands as he continued the licking. After a couple of minutes he was madly engaged in his own satisfaction and felt the cum rushing down his entire system when he suddenly heard,

"What do you think you're doing, little man?"

Before he had time to react, Brenda had snatched him off the floor with one of her strong hands while proceeding to squeeze his penis with two firm fingers of the other. His lava was effectively caught before it managed to find its way out, provoking painful agony instead of the pleasure it was meant to provide. He was still coughing and jerking when he heard Brenda's strong voice say,

"Who gave you permission to do that, little man?"

The few seconds he took to catch breath weren't in his favor. Brenda sharply flicked her fingernails at his tiny cheeks, as painful slaps from a steel hand.

"I'm asking you who gave you permission to play with yourself like that," she repeated.

"No one, Miss Brenda. No one!" little Albert desperately said, trying to fend off the formidable pains going on all over his body.

"What's the matter with you, little man," she continued. "You are being given hell and you like it? Is that it, little mite? You like looking at my feet and knowing they can be your ruin? You enjoy that feeling, you sad little jerk?"

Before he could answer, Brenda had roughly stretched him on her bare lap, facing up, and effectively nailed him down with her strong fingers.

"Let's see what happens to little horny men when they feel like jerking off without permission," she said with a wicked smile on her face.

And suddenly, to the badly hurt little man's surprise, the giantess proceeded to take his penis with two incredibly firm and soft fingers and started to fondle him while looking into his eyes with intensity.

"Let me give you a hand, poppet," she said, starting to rub him.

Albert Williams had never ever felt such a sensation in his life. Her fingers were like the perfect design to give his sex pleasure. They were warm and of a strange steely softness that seemed to adapt themselves to his highest desires, the thin limit between pleasure and pain. The rubbing continued for a long time while Brenda's eyes never looked away from his. As he approached the climax he became afraid of her brutally stopping his rush again, but he was mistaken. The long buildup of the last two days, with Brenda's incredible effect on his little manhood, gushed out within seconds like boiling lava long striving to erupt. His long cum shot out into the air sprinkling the giantess's hand and his own body in the process.

"That's a good little boy!" Brenda cried with a smile. "Feeling better, aren't you?"

"Eh, eh, yes." he hardly managed to say while still possessed by his own ecstasy.

"I hope you aren't too tired, little puppy," she surprisingly continued, "because I haven't finished with the little wanker yet."

And before he could react or understand what she was talking about, Brenda was applying again her fingers to his little member. Almost completely drained out of strength, little Albert just managed not to pass out as the giantess rubbed again with renewed energy. Taking considerably longer that before, and with the little man gasping for air, the second jet of the evening found its way through his tired penis, accompanying the inevitable pleasure with an amount of pain he didn't quite know where to locate.

"Oh, my God!" Brenda exclaimed. "Just look at this little stud! I'm pretty sure there's still much more to come."

Her words crudely pierced his ears and shattered his hopes to be spared her most unusual punishment.

"Please, don't." he tried to argue, but his voice was hardly audible. Within seconds the giantess was again handling him at pleasure. This time, though, she slipped one of her fingers under his little balls and effectively pushed them up as she continued her steady massage on his thin instrument. The little man entered an agonizing tunnel of bittersweet sensations that seriously threatened his consciousness. The peculiar fondling went on for ages, while his tiny glands were desperately trying to procure the substance supposed to come out from such a torture. Almost on the other side of consciousness, little Albert eventually satisfied his giant captor letting out a tiny amount of whitish liquid that wouldn't have covered his own fingertip.

"I knew you wouldn't disappoint me," Brenda said, intensifying her stare. "And now, baby, before you learn your lesson let's make sure you get the message right." And, to his complete dismay, the giantess went on to press his sex again starting the process anew.

What followed can only be described as living hell, for what our little hero had to go through during that half an hour or so wasn't like anything he could have imagined in a lifetime of licentiousness and indiscriminate sex. By the time he came for the fourth time he wasn't but a flexible doll at his giantess's complete mercy. A timid drop of semen was immediately followed by faint. The little man just passed out in Brenda's powerful hands, exhausted and inert.

The giant woman, with a look of contempt at the little being lying unconscious on her lap, got up from the sofa, walked into the millionaire's chambers and carelessly dropped him on his bed, leaving immediately after.

Early next morning the training continued. Brenda made little Albert get up at six o'clock sharp and followed the pattern she had designed for him in the beginning, only that the mild and respectful attitude was gone, although she never gratuitously overpowered him. Strictness was the name of the game, though, and she never hesitated to apply her convincing methods when necessary. The little man on the other hand, his little butt and groin still aching from the previous day's confrontations against a gigantic and intransigent nanny, tried to swallow his huge pride and behave himself, lest she'd remind him once more of who the boss was.

But you don't change the habits of a lifetime within two days, no matter how effective the change is being implemented. For every time Brenda showed the least sign of kindness, even relaxation he'd immediately interpret it as weakness and try and take advantage of it. But he always ended up realizing that that attitude wouldn't help him. Her punishments were quick and highly efficient, as someone who could be good or bad at will, according to his responses. So he had to learn to live with it. Within three more days he had begun to become the man Brenda wanted him to be, and the points of resistance grew smaller and less frequent, until they almost disappeared.

"So," Brenda said to the little man at one of their good manner sessions, "what do you have to do when called by your wife?"

"I have to come up to her, smile and say: Yes, darling, did you call me? What can I do for you?" was little Albert correct answer.

"Very good," approved Brenda. "I see you are learning well."

"Thank you, Miss Brenda," he hastily added.

"You are welcome, puppy," the giantess finished.

Brenda's attitude remained strict and formal, although by no means abusive. She had long ago dropped the term 'Sir' when talking to the little man, and all she did now was to command other than ask, but Albert Williams also saw that she could soon become a formidable guardian of her own will when challenged even in the smallest matters. And he also noticed that there was something else that made him keep his guard up all the time. It took him good two or three days to finally find out what it was and name it properly, but the discovery was doubtless: unpredictability. He just couldn't know what was in store for him, even though they followed a similar pattern from day to day.

Thus, one morning, after some physical exercising and a warm shower, Brenda looked at him after he had gotten dressed and said,

"Change that shirt."

The little man, somewhat taken aback, hesitated for a few seconds and asked,

"Pardon?"

"Just change it," she said. "Put another one on."

He opened his mouth to try and argue it, but the way she looked at him quickly convinced him to better keep his mouth shut.

"Yes, Miss Brenda," he quietly answered.

And as effective as her training was the desire he continued to experience for the giantess. As days went on there was hardly a minute he didn't feel varying degrees of strong impulses towards the woman that was now ruling his life. Hardly understanding how, it became obvious that the heavy yoke she had imposed on him seemed to have an arousing effect that completely defied his logic.

'How can I feel aroused when I'm her prisoner, almost her slave?' he kept wondering.

And the beauty of the woman, starting with the sheer monumental size of her physique, was a complete turn-on.

But a lifetime of misbehavior was very strong indeed in little Mr. Albert Williams. As another day went by he started to get used to Brenda's demands and, knowing he could never win the battle against her, decided to patiently wait for his wife's return. Much as he hated not being able to retaliate against his beautiful captor, he did need to survive, and it was clear she wouldn't hesitate to completely cut off his provisions and basic elements of daily life if he insisted on rebelling against her will.

Brenda was quite happy with the little man's progress, although never totally convinced of his attitude, but she had to admit he had become very obedient and even friendly over the last few days and tried to show her acceptance by somewhat easing the heavy toll she had imposed on him.

Then, one afternoon, exactly a week after her arrival and a week before his wife's return, little Albert approached giant Brenda and politely said,

"Miss Brenda, may I have a word with you?"

"Certainly," the giantess answered. "What is it, Albert?"

"Well," the little man continued. "It's about my wife."

"What about her?" she wanted to know.

"I miss her," was his simple reply.

Brenda looked long and steady at the tiny man standing at her feet, looking up at her as if begging for an essential favor.

"I see.", she said carefully.

"I know she left because of me and my behavior. But now I know how bad I've been to her and how wrong it was. And the more I think about it the more I regret all I did to her and feel like compensating her for my long years of offence and abuse. Brenda," he said with emotion, "I'd like to ask you to phone her and tell her to come back as soon as possible. I can assure you I'm ready for her, to treat her well, to help her, to love her. even serve her."

Brenda was extremely surprised at such a display of honesty and articulation. Had he really changed so fast? Was he really telling her the truth? She kept looking down at the little midget, his eyes widened into a puppy-like demeanor, and couldn't prevent a wave of sympathy from filling up her heart. She knew she hadn't spared him a hard time. Well. maybe that's exactly what he needed. And he had definitely behaved over the last few days. Still, she wasn't sure about the nature of his request,

"Well, Albert," she said thoughtfully, "I don't really know. It might be better to just let Sonia come back as she had originally planned."

"Brenda, please," the little man saw a window of opportunity through her hesitation. "I swear I'll be the man you've seen during the last days. You have nothing to worry about, and you are also welcome to check it yourself if you wish. I promise. And if you go before your two weeks are over I'll see to it that you get your payment in full."

"Oh, Albert, that's not the problem." she tried to interrupt.

"Please!" a tone of despair was clearly audible in his squeaky voice.

'Well', Brenda thought, 'you can't deny he sounds very frank and sincere.'

"Let me phone her, then," she finally compromised.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" he shouted merrily. "I swear you won't regret it."

After a couple of hours everything had been arranged. Brenda had phoned the hotel Sonia was staying at and told her the amazing news that her husband was already a new man waiting impatiently for his wife's return. Mrs. Williams, crying with happiness, had quickly given up the rest of her much needed vacation in order to book the first flight back, which wasn't quite easy and would take a couple of days. Finally she managed to get a seat which had been suddenly cancelled and said she'd be back in forty-eight hours. At both ends of the phone there was a clear atmosphere of happiness and reconciliation. Little Albert even volunteered to speak to her personally and said,

"I love you, darling."

Brenda could distinctly hear poor Sonia's emotional sobs on the other side of the ocean.

Thus, a new and loving little husband just born, Brenda cheerfully suggested a dinner in honor of the big and effective change that would make the Williamses' life better forever.

The beautiful nanny and her little man spent a couple of hours together in the kitchen, making a festive meal which they'd accompany with one of the best wines from Albert's cellar. They set a perfect table and dressed for the occasion as for a gala night at the opera. He produced his special, little tailor-made tuxedo and she put on a most attractive long dress. For once Brenda eased her grip a bit and let little Albert give flair to all his charm and humor, laughing heartily at his sallies.

But, but, but. and there's always a but when you deal with twisted minds, right after they finished their meal and were struggling with the last crumbs of their desserts, the little man broke into a fit of laughter, quite soft and natural first, but louder and coarser immediately after.

Brenda looked at him with amusement when he started his contagious spell, but soon realized something was wrong. He wasn't laughing at something; he was laughing at someone.

"What's the matter, Albert?" Brenda carefully said.

All she got for an answer was an intensification of his harsh laugh, until he was nearly choking with it.

"Albert. Albert," she grew angry. "What's this all about?"

"Oh, you women, little creatures of the Lord!" he shouted amidst his uncontrollable fit. "All you need is words, words, and more words. 'I love you, darling. I love you, darling!'" he mocked his own impersonation of a repentant husband of some hours ago.

Brenda had suddenly lost her appetite and all the naive enjoyment of their dinner, and was looking at the little bastard with cold eyes. She had let him fool her as if she were stupid, as if she really didn't know with her own boyfriend what a man of his kind was. She was as angry with herself as with him. And that's what prevented her from acting right away.

Meanwhile, the little millionaire was having the time of his life. His laughter had suddenly stopped, his expression now showing his entire wrath and frustration.

"So you thought you were going to change Albert Williams!" he shouted at her. "That you'd come here for a week and turn me into a little puppy!" His eyes betrayed all the hatred he had for her. "There is your prize, you bitch!" he spat at her. "Here is the man that my wife is going to find when she gets back. I'll continue to pretend to the very last minute you stay here with us and then, the very second you leave, I'll become a living nightmare for her. I'll make her life impossible, I'll alter all her bank accounts to make sure I can use her money to go and continue to cheat on her forever, at this or any other size! And when you think back about me and her you'll know what you've done to her, because in your honor I'll make sure Sonia doesn't have another single happy day for the rest of her fucking life!"

Brenda was aghast. She quickly thought about the situation and its implications. Albert had managed to harm things in a no-return way. Even if she prevented Sonia from coming back within two days, it was pretty clear the little fucker would always find a way to get away with it. He had been playing all along, and she had let him do so. No. He needed something else, something that would cure him forever. Snatching a glance out of the window at the bad weather, she saw time was ripe for the solution. Yes. She knew exactly what the little bastard needed!

And while the tiny man was still relishing his little triumph he saw the shadow of a smile shape itself on the giantess's beautiful face, which quickly turned into loud and strange laughter. Now it was Brenda the one to surprise him with her unexpected reaction. Little Albert stopped his rude remarks for a minute to look at the giant woman thrust her head back as her laugh turned into a roar completely deprived of amusement. This wasn't the face of fun, this was plain and sheer lunacy. Her complexion turned pale, the blue of her eyes a nondescript icy white. Stabbing the midget with her piercing feline squint, looking different from anything he remembered her looking in an entire week, Brenda stopped suddenly her spell and said very slowly with unknown voice,

"It's about time we stop your wrongdoing once and for all, Albert Williams."

And slowly rising to her feet, the little man now uncertainly looking at her from the table top, Brenda moved the four or five chairs away from it, thus making the little man's way down completely impossible. Then, for he next half an hour or so, she carefully and tidily cleared the table and removed the tablecloth which beautifully covered it. The little man found himself in the middle of the huge and bare table, following attentively all of Brenda's ceremonious moves. Then, after she was finished with the clearing up procedures, she came back to the table and, looking majestically down at the little man, said solemnly,

"Get ready to lose what you love most."

Her eyes were ice-cold, her face hard like stone. The little man contemplated her scaring yet beautiful countenance and fought a nascent wave of fear that crept up his spine. Then, turning around, Brenda slowly left the main room and climbed up the stairs into her bedroom, switching the light off in the process.

Little Albert found himself in an enormous and dark place, lit just by the moonlight coming through the windows. His filling of apprehension was only boosted as he heard the beginning of a storm breaking out in the middle of the night.

The wait turned from minutes into hours and the storm from heavy rain into a lightning and thunder tempest. The little man started to grow more and more concerned as the house seemed to be devoid of life except for the thumping of his own heart, which he could now hear loudly. Suddenly, a lightning and thunder broke one of the huge glass window panes and a draught of freezing wind burst through the shattered opening, a myriad of tiny raindrops wetting the flapping curtains that danced macabrely to the noise of the storm. Albert was shaken to the bone and hardly convinced himself that whatever was happening was but a funny coincidence of fate. He was beginning to calm down and feel a bit better when he caught sight of a giantess standing at the huge entrance to the large dining room. In the split of a second it took him to realize the woman was actually Brenda he had plenty of time to go through every frightening emotion there is. For what he had in front of him was a vision as he had never seen nor could have ever imagined.

He saw the Devil.

The woman was dressed entirely in black; her naturally imposing height enhanced by a pair of black patent leather high heel shoes. The long, black dress covered almost entirely the length of her amazing body and limbs, only the lower part of her legs exposing patterned black stockings of almost mystical design. Her face, lifeless and very pale, looked almost white in contrast to the deep purple of her eye shadow and lipstick. Her eyes were looking straight into the little man's and the unearthly smile was back on her face, sending an immediate upsetting sensation to his tiny knees. The thick mass of her abundant blond hair -more often than not gathered up into a professional bun- was now cascading from her tall head down to her hip, almost as an ethereal cape. Her long nails, usually delicately polished in subtle or no color, were now of a jet-black effect. Her right hand was holding a large old wooden box. The room was still dark, but the now wild storm and its lightning were giving the whole house an almost surreal effect.

The tiny man felt like saying something, but his voice seemed to have disappeared in the presence of the goddess, now slowly approaching the table. His legs started to shake uncontrollably and didn't respond to his instinctive impulse to run away. He was still wobbling when Brenda almost religiously placed the box on the table and said with deeply charged voice,

"Your sins are about to be exorcised."

Once again little Albert tried to utter half a sentence, but all he could do was mumble an unintelligible,

"B., B.,Br., Br."

Brenda, now the formidable witch, slowly opened the box lid and removed a wooden board from within. The structure was slightly larger than the little man was and had four metal clips attached to the surface, one on each corner. After placing it noiselessly on the table, the giant woman regally stretched her long arm, hand and long sharp-nailed fingers extended toward the little man, now paralyzed with terror, who just succumbed to the electrifying power of her firm grip. Taking the flaccid little man in her hand she proceeded to undress him with care, as if she were preparing him for a rite, and softly lay him down on the wooden board and secured the four clips around his wrists and ankles, thus making escape definitely impossible.

Little Albert, still fighting to overcome the numb awe the giant dark angel had provoked in him, was desperately trying to regain his speech and senses. But Brenda continued her ceremony pulling an old little leather-bound book out of the box and proceeding to open it on one of its yellow, discolored pages. Before he could react she was reciting,

"Ekka. Pera. Stracka. Avkinen. Stotyry. We invoke Thee, Mother of all Powers! For the sinner can't cleanse his own soul! Isptra. Hotkalka. Wuntilke."

A lightning lit up the room; a thunder shook the little man's frail body. In a supreme effort to make himself heard, he finally managed to stammer,

"Br., Brenda., Miss Brenda. What, what., what are you doing? Who are you? Please, please stop. You are scaring me."

The giantess, never stopping the course of her esoteric ceremony, put down her booklet and proceeded to screw the four clips that were holding the little man's limbs against the board even tighter. He felt an excruciating pain on all four junctions, literally biting at his bones. The tiny man was wriggling desperately now to break free.

"Aaaauuuchhh! Brenda, Miss Brenda, please, please.pl." his speech turned into a blurred lamentation and he broke out in tears.

The giantess pulled a little black sponge out of the box, which she dipped into a red liquid from a little jar in it. Then she sprinkled the terrified little man with it, covering his face and body with the unknown substance. By then, the wretched midget was shouting hysterically,

"No! No! No! Please, Miss Brenda! Please stop!! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll be good! I'll be good! I swear! I swear to God!!!

Then the Dark Angel produced a brown stone, which the little man -amidst his despair- still managed to identify as a whetstone and, taking again the ancient book in her hand, she chanted,

"Yiptika. Quadgasti. Luardeppe. Seven Deadly Sins hast thou, oh Man! brought upon thyself! But Pride thou shall suffer for, Avarice shall make thee lone, and Envy shall tear thee off!"

And as she finished her sentence the giant priestess dug her hand into the wooden box and very slowly took out the last remaining item in it. Very, very carefully she lifted it up until it got into the livid little man's sight-range. And when he saw it his whole being turned into a mass of terror, for he saw the strangest, most dangerous, sharpest knife he'd ever seen. The handle was old and eroded, but the blade. the huge blade shone with a million colors. Colors of another, worse world; colors of death.

His little mouth and tongue just couldn't respond any longer. A saliva dribble was soon followed by a disgusting vomit that only added to his already complete devastation.

Brenda was in a world of her own.

"Jiandlipsy. Fathguktet. Xupwaqtanida." she declaimed. "Seven Deadly Sins hast thou, oh Man! brought upon thyself! But Gluttony shall numb thy senses, Sloth shall make thee dirty, and Anger shall consume thy blood!"

And, taking the old whetstone in her left hand she started to sharpen the gleaming knife-blade with mystical care, right in front of the half fainted little man, who felt the last energy escaping forever his mind and body as she started to rub the blade side against his naked little chest, making it rough and red on the spot.

"No." he was hardly able to speak. "Please, my goddess, oh please, no. No."

The giant tormentor continued her deadly knife caress until the little man's chest was shaven to perfection.

The wild storm, now a continuous thunder was only the background sound for her never-ending chant,

"Mooaflapa. Pirriandoksto. Uhalakantu. Seven deadly Sins hast thou, oh Man! brought upon himself! But Lust. Lust. Lust."

Her sudden silence made the little man's worst fears a living nightmare.

"Lust."

And she grabbed between her strong fingers his little dead penis and stretched it almost to the point of plucking it out of his crotch.

"Lust."

"Brenda! Brenda, no!! No!!! Nooo!!!" he had suddenly snatched the tiniest bit of strength out of nowhere as he realized what was going to happen. "Noooo, please, nooo.!!!

"Lust." she repeated, her face contracted into an abominable expression. "Lust." And she thrust back the arm with the knife into its highest position while stretching even more the sad little penis with her other hand, and screamed,

"Lust shall not be forgiven!!!"

A horrible lightning crossed the black sky, and the steely knife blade shone in the dark, as if charged with the energy of the whole universe. Three seconds later the deafening thunder shook the Williamses' mansion to its roots. The giantess's face was contorted into a vision of Hell. Little Albert saw the knife quickly flying down toward its inexorable target. His exhausted little lungs cried up to God,

"NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

It was a pleasant and quiet afternoon. The air was full of sunshine and nature, birds chirped happily on the trees, and the busy bee buzzed from flower to flower. The soft bell rang at the Williamses' mansion and soon a beautiful young woman in a lively dress turned up to open the door. Brenda and Mrs. Williams kissed each other tenderly on their cheeks, like the good old friends they felt to be.

"How was your trip, Sonia," the nanny wanted to know.

"Oh, it was all right, dear," Mrs. Williams answered. "But I couldn't hold my impatience all the way back, and the last few hours have been almost unbearable."

"I understand," the younger woman showed all her sympathy on her angel-like face.

"Oh, dear," Sonia said. "Is it true? Is it true that he's a changed man?" she was almost in tears.

"Why don't you see it yourself?" Brenda replied with her sweetest smile. And, turning around, she called, "Albert, come here, doll. Your wife's back."

Within a few seconds a little twelve-inch-tall man made his appearance through a side door. He walked rather slowly and with short steps that, together with his shorts, T-shirt and sandals he was wearing, made him look like a little boy. He had a sort of fixed smile on his face and it was almost impossible to guess what thoughts were behind that countenance. He was also holding an oversized bunch of roses in his tiny hands.

Looking sheepishly at the young giantess, he approached Mrs. Williams and respectfully kissed one of her still beautiful feet saying,

"Hello, darling. It's a pleasure to see you back home. I hope you've enjoyed your vacation and I'm only looking forward to spending as much time as I can with you, darling, if you'll allow me to, of course." And, holding out the flowers, he added, "These are four you, darling. From my garden."

Mrs. Williams looked down in disbelief at the little man, and then at Brenda with a question mark on her expression. Delicately taking the flowers from her husband's offering hands, her eyes filled up with tears.

"Thank you, darling", she said with emotional voice, and sweetly stroked the little man's chin. Then she asked, "Is it true Albert? Do you really mean what you are saying?"

"Of course, darling," the tiny husband hurried to answer. "Here, let me take your bag and walk you to the living room.

All three of them made their slow way to the sofas, where the little man urged his wife to sit down and said,

"Would you like me to remove your shoes, darling, so you can rest your feet?"

Poor Mrs. Williams was almost having an attack of emotion.

"Oh, God bless you!" she said to Brenda taking the younger woman's hand in hers and squeezing it affectionately.

"My pleasure, ma'am," Brenda said with a big smile. "I'd say you'll have a good and faithful husband for the rest of your life, Sonia. But I'd like you to feel free to contact me again if you ever see that some of the old habits are back. Although I don't think that'll happen. Do you, Albert?" she asked the little man.

"Oh, no, Miss Brenda," the tiny man quickly answered, his fixed smile up again. "I can assure you that that won't be necessary. I love my wife and I always will. Till death us depart."

"Good boy," Brenda said.

Over the next hour or two both women dealt with the final arrangements of their contract, which Mrs. Williams insisted on paying in full, adding an extra generous bonus for her more than expected services.

"You've brought back my life!" was her way of putting it.

She still insisted that she stay over a few more days, or at least hours, but Brenda had to refuse the invitation.

"Oh, no, Sonia. I really appreciate it, but I have a home and boyfriend to get back to, and still would like to drop by to pay a quick visit to Ms. Marison on my way home."

"Of course, dear. I understand," Mrs. Williams said.

Both women kissed on their cheeks while little Albert respectfully waited for his turn to say good-bye. Once he was authorized, he came up to the tall woman's feet, and knelt down in front of her sandals.

"Good-bye, doll," Brenda said.

"Good-bye, Miss Brenda," the little man responded and proceeded to kiss both her beautiful feet.

"Be a good boy."

"I will, Miss Brenda."

Then, turning around, the gorgeous young woman walked to her car, got into it and drove off, waving her hand at the happy couple, standing at the door of their mansion.

Two hours later she was visiting Ms. Marison, her dear ex teacher, who had gotten her the just finished unusual job. She had heard everything on the phone from her friend Sonia Williams while Brenda was driving back.

"She just can't believe the change in her husband," the older woman told Brenda. "And, to be quite honest, I can't either. I still remember your apprehension when I first told you about the case. So tell me, how did you do it?" Ms. Marison was terribly curious to know.

"Oh, I have plenty of experience, you know," Brenda dismissed the whole issue with a pretty smile and a wave of her hand.

"Yes, darling," the ex teacher objected. "But your experience is mainly with children. How did you know what to do with the little man?"

"Well, Ms. Marison," Brenda simply said. "You know, men and children aren't that far from each other, are they?"

"Oh, yes, I guess you're right, dear," was the woman's answer.

Half an hour later a very tired Brenda unlocked the door of her apartment and came into it. Her boyfriend was smiling at her.

"Hello, Johnny," the beautiful young woman said sweetly.

"Hello, darling," Johnny answered happily. "I'm delighted to see you back, my queen," and he approached his girlfriend. He felt like kissing her on her mouth, but he knew he'd have to wait a bit more for that, and in the meantime he'd have to make do with her perfect feet, which was all he could reach from his size. Why? Well. he was merely twelve inches tall.

The beautiful nanny dumped herself on the armchair and said,

"Gosh, I'm dead. I badly need one of your foot massages, darling."

"That'll be only my pleasure, my queen," the little boyfriend answered. And immediately started to remove her sandals and apply the best massage he was capable of and knew she loved.

"Oh, that's good, puppy," Brenda said rolling up her eyes with pleasure. "That's so good."

"So, tell me," he wanted to know as he continued his job, could you make him change?"

"What do you think, doll?" Brenda winked at her little boyfriend.

"Of that I don't have the least doubt, my princess," he knowingly answered. "I just wanted to know whether you managed to do it with conventional methods or had to resource to the board and knife bluff, as you did with me two years ago."

"Yeah, doll," she said with a smile. "I had to go through that act again. You men are a very special race. That's the only language you understand."

"Was he scared?" he still asked. "Did he really think you were going to chop it off?"

"You bet, puppy!" Brenda said with a chuckle. "And he wasn't the only one!"

"No?" the little man asked. "Who else thought you'd do it?"

"Quite a few of our readers, actually," was the beautiful nanny's answer.

"Oh," little Johnny replied. And they both laughed about it for a minute or two.

"In any case," Brenda finished, "I can assure you Sonia Williams will have a wonderful husband for the next few years, if not forever. as good as you are now, poppet."

"My pleasure, love," the little man said, kissing gently his queen's feet.

That simple contact, badly needed for the last ten days, sent Brenda a wave of desire from the bottom of her feet up her spine through all her body. Looking straight into her boyfriend's eyes, she said lustfully,

"I'm hungry, doll!"

"So am I, my queen," the little man whispered, knowing the time had come.

Brenda took him gently in her beautiful hands and stood him on her generous breast. They kissed long and tenderly until they felt mad with passion.

Still holding the little man against her beast, Brenda got up to her feet and slowly walked with him into their bedroom. Life with a well-mannered little boyfriend could be lots of fun.

THE END