"Are you being serious right now?" said Sarah, her voice incredulous. She was at her wits end with this "Please! Just rub my foot, its not that hard!" George stood his ground, his arms crossed as he faced away from his irritated owner, looking out at the gently waving ocean, his feet sinking into the fabric of the deck chair. "Aaaarrrgghhh, you are such a brat!" said Sarah, crossing her own arms in annoyance. George turned around to look at her, knowing this wouldn't be seen as a sign of obedience. From his position at her ankles, he began to trace his eyes up her body. Her long pale legs, smooth and hairless, as is expected of a young woman. Her crotch, the white bikini bottoms she donned shaded by her plain mini-sarong, a favourite beach going accessory of hers. Her exposed midsection, seeming so high up to the diminutive George, only the sizeable distance from her feet to her legs allowing him to see up so far comfortably. Her large breasts, protected from voyeurs by a white bikini top and her crossed arms, a pearl bracelet hanging limply off each wrist. Finally, George's eyes rested on her face, her blue eyes squinting and looking away from him in distaste, her straw-coloured hair flowing down to her shoulders, allowing her earrings to peak out from behind the strands. Sarah was a beautiful woman, no doubt about it, and had she and George met under more suitable terms, George likely would have liked to know her. But as he looked up at the blonde colossus towering before him, he felt nothing but a burning hate for her, and his general predicament.
George was a university student, a fairly normal one. Friends, parties, drama, learning; the authentic experience of a student, and he was going fairly well. Fate, however, decried that he would not follow in his father's foot steps and become a lawyer, instead he would be diagnosed with a degenerative condition that caused him to shrink, reducing him to mouse size at a random time. The news hit him hard, there wasn't much of a future left for those afflicted by the condition, if you were rich you may be able to live a semi-regular life, but for the working class afflicted, you would likely be abducted by some predatory company dealing in tiny lives. Which is exactly what happened to George. He was found in an alley way by some office lady and sold to a pet store almost immediately. George was sold as the cheapest pet around, no specialised training or treatment, an average schmo taken off the street and stuck in a glass case. For weeks he sat in a tiny cell, the other prisoners, and himself, depressed at their situation, not daring to make friends as the turnover rate was quite high. The only source of entertainment being to watch the full-sizers lumber in to gawk at them and, occasionally, purchase one. It so happened that Sarah was the one to buy George, a fellow university student. Being strapped for cash, Sarah saved up for weeks to buy one of the little things, becoming enamoured at them after seeing her friends' own obedient pets and falling for the flashy advertising. However, the purchase had not gone as well as she had hoped; George was as stubborn as a mule. The first day after the purchase the only thing he had said to her was "fuck off" and "never in a million years you bitch" after being asked to rub some lotion into her back. Sarah was not a violent person, she abhorred all kinds of cruelty and wouldn't hurt a fly, much to her detriment. She was reluctant to punish her slave for his transgressions, even if she wanted to she chickened out. She had searched online for remedies "how to train a tiny" "best punishments for tinies" "my tiny is disobedient" and she had followed as many suggestions possible. She had tried leaving him in a reeking sock over night, withholding food, threatening, coercing, begging. But George would flat-out refuse anything that she requested. George was filled with such a rage at the cosmic injustice that had befallen him, he would never compromise with this she-devil whore of a woman. Sarah became increasingly exhausted, many friends had told her to simply return him and get a new one, but she didn't want to go back to the store and admit defeat at the hands of a tiny rebel. It had been an entire week and no progress was made, and now, as she was trying to spend a relaxing day at the beach with her friend, George refused to follow even the most basic of orders.
"I don't know why you don't just crush the little twerp." commented Laura, reclining in her own deck chair as she soaked up the sun rays. Laura was a close friend of Sarah's, despite being quite different to Sarah in many ways. Laura being a little more... butch, while Sarah was as delicate as a flower. But still friends they remained.
"Oh, you know I'm not like that! Anyway, I won't be beaten by some little... jerk!" she barked as she turned to George, who still didn't betray any faltering in his stature.
"Well, you can't let him just walk all over you, ya know? He's being a little shit, so stamp him!"
"Listen, if you give that little prick to me I'll sort him out for you, free of charge, I promise."
"Come on... free of charge! A nice, obedient pet, all to yourself!"
Sarah took some time to think about this, weighing her options. She desperately wanted George to be the obedient toy all her friends showed off, but didn't actually want him to be hurt. Laura went over board sometimes, she wasn't the same kind of gentle spirit that she was. It took one look to her disobedient slave's smug face to finally make up her mind.
"Deal." she said as she picked up her anti-authoritarian antagonist between two fingers, depositing him into the waiting palm of her friend.
She giggled, "you won't regret a thing."
Sarah might not, but George might. He was beginning to panic, he could already tell Laura would be a lot stricter than Sarah by her calm, almost sadistic demeanour. Her "crush the twerp" comment making his knees wobble a bit. Laura picked him up by the arms, dangling his exposed body before her eyes, inspecting him. George did the same to her: she was quite petite (relatively), likely below 5'5", and quite lean. Her skin was slightly darker than Sarah's, not exactly tan, but pinkish and colourful. She wore a grey bikini that was quite modest, hiding her sensitive regions quite well. George wasn't as focused on her body though, he was focused on the giant house sized face in front of him. Her eyes were a warm hazel, a similar colour to her hair, which was worn in swooshy spikes around her head, forming peaks and thick strands that fell on her forehead, just above her eyes. Two silver ring-piercings clasped to the helix of her left ear, and a stud below on her ear lobe. Below her small nose her pale pink lips parted, revealing a the tip of a red tongue as it came worming out; licking her lips greedily as she stared hungrily down at her new toy. George gulped, he knew this was not going to end well for him... but no matter what, he would resist these giant bitches! Surely, he would, right?
"Already I can tell he's nervous, this shouldn't take more than a few days, a week tops. He'll be practically begging to crawl back to you." she spoke, ignoring the tiny as she dropped him lazily into her hand bag. The fall was quite short, landing on the studded leather of her purse as the two chatted. George, desperate to compose himself, attempted find a small nest in the corner of her cavernous satchel, lit only by the light trickling in through a constricted aperture. Eventually he nested himself in behind a packet of half-eaten gum and some crusty, leaking lip balm. The oozing of the latter filling up the tiny crevice with a sickly sweet and ancient odour. After the two behemoth beauties had finished their beach side relaxation they picked up their personals and bid each other adieu. George was first swung upward and then bobbed back and forth by the swaying of the bag and the thunder of her steps. Each bob accompanied by a muffled slap of a flip flop and a brief jump upward of all the detritus of the stuffy, mobile dungeon. Thrown uncaringly into the passenger seat of a car, the clutter scattering all about he was forced to find a new hidey-hole deep in the confines of the hand bag. He was privileged to enjoy the ride from inside his fabric cave, each turn and bump of the colossal automobile subtly shaking him and his environment, even forcing him to evacuate again when a pack of tampons the size of a brick wall almost fell on him. As the car pulled into the car park of her dormitory, Laura swung the bag, her trainee in tow, around her shoulder and strolled inside. After a few seconds rifling she snatched George out of her litter-filled pouch. Holding him between her index finger and thumb as she had before, crouching down as she plopped him onto the varnished wooden floor, and standing back to her monumental height.
"Okay, little guy, what's your name?" she said, condescension dripping from her every syllable.
"M-my name's Geo-"
"Booor-ing, I don't give a shit, I'll give you one later if I feel like it. All you need to know is that I'm in charge, got that?"
George was debating with himself, this girl clearly didn't play around, and he didn't really want to end up... dead. But, then again, she was still Sarah's friend, she wouldn't just kill him, right? George decided it was best to stand strong against her as well, so he keept his composure.
"I said, got that?" she leaned over, her face growing in his field of vision as she did, her eyes squinting in interrogation. George kept his equanimity, even crossing his arms in defiance.
"Oh, okay, I see how it is. I don't think it is like someone in your position to have big balls. You think I won't kill you right?" this got George's attention, looking up at her and uncrossing his arms "well" she lifted her flip flop covered foot up, kicking the foamy thing away with a quick flip of her tendons, the giant object flying off at great speed and landing with a thud. "let's just say I know how much you things cost, and would very willingly foot the bill..." she teased as she wiggled the toes of her still hovering foot, the muscles of her thighs keeping it up. setting her foot down again, she continued her one sided conversation "and, if you don't think I won't crush you just because she asked me not to, I've known her a long time, so what's a crushed tiny between friends?" she smirked down at George, who became increasingly anxious throughout her drawn out diatribe. Raising her other foot, she positioned it above George, the black foam eclipsing her entire body. She kicked it away, the motion quickly revealing her sole, the day of walking leaving all but the soft and pale instep reddened and slightly swollen. "So now that you know about my lack of reservations about grinding you into the dirt. I'm in charge; got..." she shifted her foot to the side, allowing her body to come into view, her squinting, interrogative eyes, dire frown and spiky hair come into view, but still adjacent to her swollen ped of death, not leaving his view. "...that?" George had never been so afraid in his life. Her movements, her subtle psychological torments, her demeanour, he was terrified. He could do nothing but nod. "Great! We're making progress already!"