"Oh, please," Jo Anna, my hairdresser, said, both scoffing and dismissing my statement, "if I gave you a blow job, I'd own you!"

Causing me to choke.

Okay, so my hair dresser and I banter and debate a lot. I'm an educated liberal feminist, and she's definitely not. Whenever I come in, which is every couple of months or so, we get onto a debate on feminism. It's odd, because I'm a man and she's a woman, and I'm sticking up for her gender, and she thinks it's all BS. That's what makes it fun, and keeps me coming back to her place to keep my hair in check. That, and I've got a bit of a hard-on for her - all 6-foot-1-heavy of her.

We are able to have these candid, and sometimes raunchy, debates because she's the owner-operator of her own single-person salon, and there are usually no other customers in the shop. I don't quite remember how we got onto the topic of fellatio, but I had been arguing that its prevalence was symbolic of men's dominance over women.

I choked, because she both brought it to the personal level - her and I - as well as suggesting that act - which had its own stimulus on my brain (& etc.) - as well as saying that she'd "own" me. The idea of being "owned" by this physically powerful woman, who dwarfed me just a little, sent about just as much blood to my scrotum as the idea of having her mouth around my scrotum. It was clear that the blood rushing downward was leaving my brain undersupplied, as I was unable to form a response. She laughed her head off at my momentary incapacity. That returned the blood to my head, ie. my cheeks.

"Oh, I gotcha there. Look at that blush!"

I smiled in my embarrassment, chalking it up to having lost a round of banter, while she returned to the task of trimming my hair. I needed to calm myself down, because as soon as she was done, I'd have to stand up out of the chair. That would mean that my stiffy would show. The problem was that it seemed like she was leaning just a little bit more forward as she worked on me, drawing herself closer to me. She even lowered the chair slightly, allowing her to really loom over me. That felt really awesome, but did not help me relax myself.

Some moments of silence passed as she loomed, and I attempted to think of things - anything - that would force my nethers to recoil. My control over my own mind, and thus my nethers, was not that strong, however. Soon, even my seated position, and the natural curl of my pants was not enough to hide me.

She stopped cutting my hair.

"Wow, that really did a number on you, didn't it?" she observed.

I chuckled a nervous acknowledgement.

"I meant it, you know," she said, getting back to trimming. "I'd have complete power over you," she added with as much nonchalantness as if she had been commenting on the weather.

I cleared my throat to force myself to be in control of myself. I did like her as a person, and she certainly had a certain way about her, but it's not as if she was some sort of bombshell seductress. She was a large and somewhat heavy-set woman in her mid-to-late thirties, and I was a decent-looking man in my early forties. I was a young-ish college professor, with a fair amount of self-confidence in my own right, while she was a hair dresser. The age, general looks, education and social class left me with the status advantage. It was fun that she was playing this game with me, but she shouldn't pretend that it was more than just a game. Besides, I was the paying customer.

I felt it was time to call her bluff.

"Oh, is that so?" I said, more than asked. "It sounds like you're making promises that you probably can't keep."

She wheeled me around in the chair to face her.

"You want to try me, mister?"

The 'mister' sounded like the kind of mister you would use on a naughty ten-year old.

Part of me was a bit annoyed, having her talk to me like that. Another part of me thought that this was pretty awesome. After all, we were essentially making a wager about her giving me head. If she was wrong, I'd be having her giving me the best blow job she could muster. If I was wrong, I'd still be getting that blow job, and then being putty in her hands as a result. Winning sounded great, but losing didn't sound that bad either. I generally liked the idea of being forced into submission by a strong and powerful woman. While she wasn't that bombshell seductress, she made up for it by being a strong and powerful woman, who was being assertive to boot.

"Yes, I want to try you!" I shot back.

She turned around and walked to the front door of the shop, where she put her hand on the switch to the 'open' sign.

"You'd better mean this, because if we go down this road, I do mean it: I will own you. You will be my slave."

"Seems fair," I said back, forcing myself to seem self-confident with a wry smile, though my confidence was slipping inside.

*There is no way that she can really enforce this, is there?* I asked myself.

"Alright!" she said, shrugging, as she turned off the 'open' sign. She locked the door, turned off the lights, and drew the curtains.

It was darker in the shop, but not so dark that we couldn't make one another out. It was just enough not to be seen by prying eyes. But it certainly felt like this blow job was going to really go down, and my blood was circulating at an elevated pace.

"Get over in the shampoo chair," she directed me.

I saw what she was thinking. The shampoo chair would allow me to lay back a bit and give her better access to my pelvis.

I felt a bit awkward getting up. The excitement was making me clumsy, but I was able to position myself to sit down on the shampoo chair. Before I could actually sit myself down, however, she gave me a light push so that she forced me down.

"You're gonna so be mine," she said with a pirate smile.

"I look forward to it," I shot back.

"Uh huh," she replied, though with that tone of confidence that she'd be right, and I'd be surprised.

She knelt down in front of me, and unbuckled my belt.

"I thought the slave was supposed to be the one kneeling," I said by way of a taunt.

She stopped with the belt, and looked me in the eye.

"Yes, I will suck your dick, but you're going to be kissing my feet."

I'll confess. I'm a foot guy. She had big powerful feet, which I had a habit of stealing glances at. She tended to wear flip-flop sandals a lot. As a beauty specialist herself, it was clear that she knew how to get her own feet taken care of. Though I had life ambitions of climbing the faculty ladder at work, and becoming a bit of a big-shot, there was a primordial part of my brain that was hoping that she was absolutely right that this blow job was going to turn into a life of servitude for me.

She unzipped my pants and spread my fly open. I went to help her lower both the pants and the underwear, but she clearly didn't need my assistance, as I quickly found myself bare-bottomed in the faux-leather shampoo chair. My member stood at attention, pulsing slightly with my heartbeat.

"Come to mama," she said, as she engulfed my member into her mouth.

I'm not the smallest man in the world, but good lord this woman had a deep mouth as she really took me in. It was amazing! I closed my eyes and imagined myself entirely inside of her mouth, as if I was my own member. She worked her lips up and down around me, while her tongue caressed the underside of my shaft, where the feelings felt the best. My back arched from pleasure, sending my head into the shampoo basin. I began to buck slightly. On the outward motion, I picked my head up and looked down at her.

She stopped and looked me in the eye with that pirate smile again.

"Oh I'm going to enjoy owning you!" she said.

Before I could respond she engulfed me again.

"Yes, please!!" I all but shouted.

Her lips worked me up and down, and I felt my tip sliding down her throat. Again, I closed my eyes and imagined myself as my penis, wholly inside of her mouth, looking down into her esophagus.

"MMmmmm" she said, as if enjoying my taste. The humming vibration of her voice around me energized me even more. Her hands reached around me, grabbing my rear. With her strong arms, she forced me even closer to her. I placed my hands on her shoulders. It was amazing how strong she felt, and it felt even more amazing that she was not shy of manhandling me ever deeper into her mouth. Inside her mouth, she ran the tip of her tongue along the sensitive bottom of my penis to give it just that extra stimulation.

"Oh, thank you!!" I exulted as she continued to work me. "Oh, yes!" I continued, "swallow me up!"

It was at this stage that I could feel the climax approaching, and it was evident that she could tell. She stopped the tip-of-tongue stimulation and just went to town engulfing me again. On the in-strokes she gripped me ever more powerfully with her muscular arms and hands. Those buzzed my brain so much that I did not even recall the out-strokes. It was as if she was just continually drawing me into her mouth, and I could not imagine a more wonderful and voracious place.

Again she MMmmmm'd, and the vibration sent me over the edge.

I did not have the presence of mind to warn her of its approach, but just let myself flow down her throat. And flow I did! She did not take this as a cue to slow down either. If anything, she MMmmmm'd more powerfully, and used ever more force to draw me inside. As a result, my cum just kept on coming, and my orgasm continued. She also changed her tack and was now no longer relying on my penis to be a pump, but instead began to actually suck, creating a vacuum in her mouth to pull more of my fluid into her.

*Wow, what a beautiful fate for my spermies,* I managed to think, even as I continued to orgasm.

By now, however, I realized that something was very strange. I had never had an orgasm this long or powerful. But I was obviously not going to try to stop it. I was going to ride it for all it was worth. I wanted to give her every last cc of what I had; I wanted ever more of me to be engulfed into her throat.

As she continued to engulf, it started to feel like I was actually being deflated (defellated?). Through my hands on her shoulders, it also felt like she was growing from a big and powerful woman into an even bigger and more powerful woman. That might have concerned me to the point of action, were I not absolutely enthralled with the moment.

"Oh, yes!" I repeated, "swallow me UP!"

At which point she did indeed do an even more powerful draw on me taking that every last cc I had. I even started to feel a little colder as if she were drawing the warmth out of me too. The draining feeling felt good, but it actually also started to hurt, as if much more than just my cum was leaving me. That pain started to grow more powerful, and it began to eclipse the pleasure.

Just before I took action to try to stop the situation, she broke the suction by letting me go.

Leaning back, she took a deep exasperated breath. I too inhaled as much oxygen as I could. A second later, I looked at her. Grinning giddily, I was about to express my appreciation when I noticed a trickle of something red at the side of her mouth. Blood? I looked down at my penis, and also saw a trickle from the urethral orifice.

She stood up on her feet in front of me. Wow, she was a giant of a woman. From my sitting position, it looked as if her head might even brush the ceiling. It had to be an optical effect from my vantage point leaning back in the shampoo chair.

She looked down at me, grinning, as she wiped the red from the side of her mouth. She was still catching her breath, just as I was. I wanted to get up as well to give her a big hug, but I was still exhausted. It had clearly taken a lot out of me. I struggled to sit up, and thankfully she took me by the hand and pulled me up and into her arms.

Those big arms completely surrounded me, and lifted me onto my feet, which felt a little wobbly. I closed my eyes as I forced myself to gain my footing. When I opened them again, I saw her face looking into mine. She was smiling.

"You okay there?" she asked.

"Uhm-yeah,.. I think," I stammered. "Wow! That was..."

I had been about to express my surprise and appreciation for the best damn blow job I had ever had, when I noticed how much she was towering over me. Compared to her surroundings, she was certainly bigger than she had been, but it also seemed like I was distinctly smaller. My shirt even seemed to be much bigger on me than before.

"What the...?" I began to utter.

"Yeah, you're a bit smaller," she said.

"How...?" I asked, only able to start but not finish my questions.

"Not sure," she shrugged. "I just have that effect on the men I blow."

I looked up at her, stunned in disbelief.

"They don't seem to mind," she added.

It had certainly been mind-blowingly awesome, I reflected. I continued to look at her as my neurons tried to make sense of it all. She looked positively heroic in her proportions. Having just an inch or so on me before, her nose had been at the level of my eyes. Now I was looking up to see her mouth - that lovely mouth and its incredible skills.

"Aw, you're so cute at ... what...? five-foot-eight?" she estimated. "It's hard for me to tell, now that I'm a little bigger."

So it really was not an optical illusion.

"Do you wanna go down on me now?" she asked.

I looked up at her. I hadn't considered it. I thought the deal was the deal. In fact, it was a bet, and I...

...really wanted to go down on this heroically large woman who was looming over me.

Before it became a debate between us, or even just one within my own mind, she put her large hand on my shoulder and gently but firmly pushed me down.

"Yeah, ya do!" she said.

My knees buckled, and now I was on my knees in front of her. Still somewhat slow, I just looked at her belt buckle right in front of me. I began to reach for it, in order to return the favor - the way a gentleman does, when she interrupted.

"No, not yet," she said.

Her tone was a little different. It wasn't the tone of someone engaging in banter with the upper hand. It was the tone of someone laying down the law.

I looked up at her to see what expression was on her face. It had changed from the pirate smile to that of someone expecting to be obeyed. Wow, she really towered over me, with an in-charge-and-knowing-it look in her eye.

"Here's what's gonna happen."

She locked my gaze with hers, so that she knew she was drilling this into me:

"First, you're going to bring your face down to the ground. Then you're going to thank me for that awesome blowjob, and you're gonna kiss both my feet."

It sounded like she was going to continue with a "second," but didn't. There was a moment of tense silence. It seemed to be my turn.

I looked down at her feet. Wow, those peds were bigger, stronger, and closer than ever before. This really was the stuff of my fantasy.

I was drawn down to them. It almost seemed like I was weighted down by heavier gravity, yet it was certainly my own compelled effort. My face came down to hover just above her right foot.

"Thank you, mistress, for the best experience of my life," I said, surprising even myself with my choice of words.

I then both gently and meaningfully brought my lips down and reverentially, softly kissed her foot.

I knew that her instruction was to kiss both her feet, but I didn't feel quite done with the right one yet. I kissed it again, slightly more forcefully. Yes! I was kissing her foot! I was fulfilling exactly what she said would happen, and I was living my own foot-fetish fantasy. I kissed it again and again!

"Both feet!" she said firmly, seeming displeased with my lack of doing exactly as she had commanded.

I quickly complied and began to go to town on her left foot as well. I had gotten four kisses in when she spoke up again:

"Stop!"

I stopped and looked up at her. Wasn't she pleased with me?

"Second," she said, continuing her list as if nothing had happened since she began it, "you're going to go home to recharge and rethink your life."

"You're going to think about what you really want out of life. Do you want to slave out for the system, becoming tenured faculty boss or whatever it is you're doing at the college,..."

"...or do you want to live and be a real slave to a flesh and blood human being, who will make you hers in ways even you haven't dreamed of, you little perv?"

"I...," I began to say, when she cut me off to continue her list.

"Third, when you conclude that really you want me to own you, you're gonna write me a check for every last penny in your bank accounts - checking and savings - and then you're gonna come back here."

"Then, because you'll have recharged, I'm gonna blow your brains out your dick again."

I lived just right around the corner. In fact, I didn't even ride my bicycle to her shop, because the walk was not that much longer than having to mess with my bicycle and riding gear. As I walked home my thought process about the big dilemma that was facing me was interrupted by the strange sensation that I was tripping somewhat over my pants.

That was just too odd. I had figured that what I had been experiencing before - the semblance that she had grown and I had shrunken - really had been my imagination, because it was just that unbelievable. But here was the proof of it. Those pants really had been a good fit for me, and now I was swimming in them.

While college professors have the reputation for being somewhat forgetful or absent-minded, I had always prided myself on my ability to generally keep a clear head about things. I could analyze matters by separating out different questions, and then coming to a logical conclusion.

Question: was I actually smaller than I had been?

Well, it sure seemed that way, and my observation of my pants being larger than they had been seemed to support the thesis.

Question: What was the cause of the aforementioned change in body height and volume?

Well, it sure seemed to happen when she sucked all the cum out of me and then some. The laws of thermodynamics suggested that the total quantity of matter and energy were a constant, and what I had lost in body mass she looked to have gained. While it seemed absurd that it could happen, the evidence suggested that it could.

Question: would I be happier as a college professor or as a hairdresser's slave?

This depended on which theory of human behavior was applied. Certainly an economist would say that it was not rational for a person to exchange a position of modest-but-certain income to one in which he would actually become the property of another. Psychologists, however, made a living out of the diagnosis that humans were not rational beings. Sociologists, on the other hand, envisioned a completely different form of human rationale: people wanted to have status within a group...

And so I kept on with a dithering, intellectual thought process until I found that I had arrived at my front door.

What would I do now? I was supposed to be working on a course module for the upcoming week, but she had told me to rethink my life and return to her with a check for all of my money. It then dawned on me: not all of the money in my bank account was my own. After all, I was a married man, and most of that money was my wife's.

Yes, indeed, this whole time I had not given a second thought to the fact that I had just become a despicable adulterer for even so much as having my hair dresser go down on me, much less engineering to become her slave and planning to give her all of the money in my marriage's joint bank account. I had also not given any thought to the fact that she knew I was married, and had even given my wife a haircut once or twice.

But that blow job had indeed been the most amazing sexual experience of my life, and my subsequent submission to her had been the most enticing psychological experience I had ever had.

*******

I opened the door to the salon.

There she was, working on an older lady's grey coiffure.

"Welcome back!" she said, with the tone of voice she would have had, had nothing happened, just an hour before.

Had I imagined it?

"Did you bring the check?"

Nope, I had not imagined it.

I nodded.

"Good, then run the broom while I finish up here."

I was dumbfounded. I had imagined that she and I would be alone for that promised second blow job. Also, when I thought about slavery, I had been thinking sex slave, not broom slave.

"Mark, here, works for me now," she told her customer casually as she continued styling the hair.

I placed the check on her desk and grabbed up the broom that had been propped in the corner.

"Oh, well good for you to be making enough to hire an employee," the customer complimented. "You do such a good job with my hair, you deserve it!"

I began to sweep up some of the loose locks of hair that were strewn around the salon floor.

"Why thank you, ma'am," my hairdresser/mistress replied, "but he's not my employee. He's my slave."

She said it in a matter-of-fact kind of way, that it sounded as if she was pulling her customer's leg.

"Oh, my!" the customer giggled, taking it that way.

"Yeah, I did a job for him that he couldn't afford," she said, while looking at me and winking.

The customer left the matter at that, and the hair cut continued until it was done. I dutifully did all the sweeping. Once accounts were settled, the customer left, satisfied with a good hair dressing.

"That's my last appointment for the day," Jo Anna announced. "Go ahead and turn off that open sign, lock the door, and we'll get to our business."

She sounded just as if I really were her employee, and it was the end of a regular working day. I did as she told me, while she picked up the check and sat down in her own dressing chair.

"Wow, you really don't make much as a college professor, do you?" she commented, looking at the number on the check.

It was true. My income was pretty pathetic for the amount of education I had to have in order to do the job. It still stung to hear it said, though.

"Before anything else, I've been on my feet all day, and I want to take a load off."

Before she could say anything else, I took the initiative. I knelt back down at her feet. I held out my hands, suggesting that I give her feet a massage.

"If I may?"

"You may," she replied.

I took off her sandals, placing one of her feet on my leg, while the other I began massaging. Her feet really were large and powerful, but still well kept. They had strong muscles and thick but not too calloused skin. I could really work them with my hands without fear of being too tough on them. While I did so, she grabbed her notebook and typed something in while looking at my check.

"Stop for a sec.," she said, turning the notepad towards me. It was the login screen for my bank.

"I want to make sure that the money's for real."

I let go of her foot for a moment, which she set down on my other leg. I typed in the login, from where she could see that the checking account had exactly the number on the check, and the money in savings had been moved over to checking.

She looked at it.

"Wow, you're really for real aren't you?" she said more than asked.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, sheepishly.

"Good, then you may continue," she said, after which I put my hands back to work.

"You may think that this wraps it up, but what you've written me is just money."

I looked confused. It was more than just money. It was all of the money - mine and my wife's. If she cashed that check, my marriage was over. Admittedly, my marriage was not in that great of a shape, or else I would not have been seduced by my hairdresser in the first place, but it was not a great way to end the marriage.

Before I could ask her to explain, there was a knock on the door. I figured it was just a customer hoping that she wasn't closed, but she sat up and pulled her feet off my legs.

"Get that," she commanded.

I stood up and unlocked the door. Opening it, I saw an attractive professional woman. When she saw me, she smirked, before walking past me into the salon.

"So, it's done?" She asked Jo Anna.

"Yup, there he is," she said nodding at me, "and here's this."

Jo Anna showed her the check.

I was dumb-founded. What was going on here?

"Dr. Hardt," the woman said, using my name and extending her hand by way of greeting me. "I'm Rita Rodriguez, and I represent the joint interest of Ms. Bishop and your wife."

I shook her hand out of reflex and I tried to figure out what this was. Ms. Bishop? that was Jo Anna's last name. Her and my wife's 'joint interests?' What the hell could that mean? My wife and my mistress/hairdresser had joint interests?

"I expect that this takes you by surprise, but your activities of this afternoon did not take any of us by surprise," she said. "In fact, we counted on it."

"Your infidelity towards Mrs. Hardt with Ms. Bishop, as well as the payment of a sum not fully yours to pay constitutes the material breach of your marriage with Mrs. Hardt."

"She now has grounds to file for a divorce and sue for damages and arrears," Ms. Rodriguez continued. "We are hoping to forego a lengthy legal process which you would lose and would make me far richer than either Mrs. Hardt or Ms. Bishop intend."

I was too stunned to offer any resistance or even comment.

"With all of the money that your wife has fronted for your education and upkeep over the years, in addition to the sums which you have just paid to Ms. Bishop, would put you significantly further in debt than you already are - not to mention any court costs. We suggest that this all gets settled by your agreement to - A - the divorce, and - B - a perpetual-term labor contract with Ms. Bishop."

"Perpetual-term labor contract" - that sounded suspiciously like slavery.

"I've already drawn up the necessary paperwork. All you need to do is sign."

"As intriguing as that sounds," I said, feeling perhaps a bit more intellectually confident than I should have, "it's pretty clear that it cannot be a legal contract, since 'perpetual-term labor contracts', or indenture contracts, are illegal. The Thirteenth Amendment..."

"...blah, blah, blah," Ms. Rodriquez interrupted. "I know the law. You might not be aware of the specifics of the Bankruptcy Abuse Prevention and Consumer Protection Act of 2005, which..."

I actually had heard of this law. It effectively meant that one could not declare bankruptcy on student debt. While my wife had helped me through grad school, federal student loans had also played a big part. Also, in my household, my wife did the accounting, and I had not paid attention to it in years. I had seen the occasional envelope from the American Education Services, which was the public loan-servicing corporation through which I had gotten my loans, but I honestly did not know how much I still owed. It had been quite a few years since I had finished.

"...Oh? Perhaps you have?" Ms. Rodriguez asked, as she saw my facial expression change to one of concern. "That's right ? you owe enough to put you in debt forever, and the way the loans have been handled means that you don't meet the Brunner test."

"You really should have paid attention to that," she said in an even more condescending way than she had already been sounding.

"But you didn't," she stated, "which brings us here. So, you can either get slapped with having to pay for the divorce when my client has me sue your pants off, during which I would ruin what academic reputation you have, after which you declare bankruptcy and are then basically owned by the feds - who aren't the nicest people right now when it comes to the indigent - think: starving and dying of disease on the street - OR, you can actually do what you actually want to do: become Ms. Bishop's slave."

Just after she said that, I was taken by surprise by a firm hand on my shoulder. Jo Anna had come up behind me. With her hand she pulled me back towards her. I could feel, and hear, her breath on my ear. I was reminded how large she was, especially after whatever had happened before to make her even larger.

"She actually told me about your little fetishes, you know," Jo Anna said into my ear. "She didn't understand them, but I do."

While I knew my kinks, I also knew that there was a difference between what I felt I wanted, and what real slavery was like. Kink slavery, despite what it purported to be, was still about the submissive's desires. The domme needed to perform to meet those. In real slavery, the sub's needs really were disregarded. She didn't have to behave in a sexy manner, as she would be entirely free to be authentically cruel, or even just passionlessly utilitarian about it - using me for grueling or boring chores that had no more sex appeal than washing dishes or scrubbing floors.

"That's right," she said, as if reading my mind, "you'd be completely at my mercy, and I wouldn't have to be merciful."

Of course, the way she said it, with her breath flowing down my spine, and her large body hovering behind me, eager to take possession of me, made me want to give in.

"You know that she's right," Jo Anna continued. "You WANT to belong to me."

She then turned me around, so I was no longer facing the impatient Ms. Rodriguez, but instead looking right at Jo Anna's mouth. She put her hand on my cheek.

"And,..." she said, giving me a good glimpse into her mouth, "we're going to continue where we left off, because I'm not done sucking you up."

That was it, I couldn't hold it any longer. The temptation was simply too great. I bowed my head, and slowly dropped down to my knees. Her hand went from my cheek to rest on my head.

"Good boy," she said softly.

Rita Rodriquez left the salon with signed papers. I was still not sure of the complete legality of it all, but one thing was certain, there was enough there to make my life extremely difficult - if not impossible - if Jo Anna was not satisfied with me.

But, honestly, that didn't matter so much to me right now. I wasn't thinking of the what-ifs of this form debt bondage that I'd entered into. I was thinking about how overwhelming it felt that this great woman owned me now - that I belonged to her, and was at her mercy. The act of surrender alone had nearly caused my member to explode. Certainly it had been leaking anticipatory fluid.

I was still on my knees. Rita had had me sign all the papers while in that position. Her standing over me in her businesslike attire, expressing authority and giving me signing and initialing instructions, had also been arousing. But I knew that there would now only be one focus for my devotions, and she - my owner - sat up in her hairdresser's chair, looking down on my kneeling form with imperious hunger.

"Mistress...?" I began.

"Crawl over here," she interrupted.

I did as she told me to, crawling on the floor to the place right before her throne. Her sandaled feet were perched on the metal footrest of that chair. She must have pumped the chair to its highest setting, because she absolutely towered over me. She seemed majestic in her height, form, and in the way that she looked down on me, especially now that I really was her property.

Her face turned to a smirk. "Didn't I say I'd own you?" she said.

I merely bowed my head, closing my eyes in submission.

I heard a creak of the footrest as it was relieved of a little pressure. I then felt the ball of her foot on the crown of my head. She ran her foot along the top of my head. I felt her arch, and then her heel. She then ran it backwards. I could then feel her toes combing through my hair.

She placed her foot back on the footrest.

"Now kiss my feet, like before, but with the knowledge that this time you really are my slave."

I opened my eyes enough to navigate my lips towards her feet, and then closed them again. I placed my lips softly at the place just above her toes, which I gave the most tender kiss.

"Thank you, mistress," I said, loud enough for her to hear, but still barely more than a whisper.

I followed that first tender kiss with another, letting the slowness and tenderness tell her the sincerity of my submission. I was entirely at her mercy, and it felt wonderful. She tilted her foot up by the arch, allowing me to kiss her there, and even permitting my tongue to snake down to her sole. The slight salty taste of footsweat was intoxicating, largely because it was still subtle.

After a bit of continued foot worship, which also had me lick her heels, and place the ball of her foot directly on my face, she had me switch to her other foot. At that time, I was giving myself into it passionately, overcome by the total surrender to her. Had I had the temerity to look up at her, I would have seen her fighting back waves of pleasure.

"Enough!" she said, just as I was lapping the sole of her second foot, "Strip, and get your naked ass back over in the shampoo chair."

I knew what that mean, and I did not need to be told twice. I disrobed quickly and sat down in the shampoo chair, my bare rear end in the faux-leather cushion. My manhood stood at stiff attention, awaiting her pleasure.

She looked at me, and then at my member. "Mama's gonna eat you up now," she said, and I wasn't truly sure which of us she was talking to.

Just like before, she went to town on me, taking my whole member into her great mouth. If she possessed a gag reflex, she had it entirely under control - just as she had me. It was clear that she had been correct - a blow job clearly did not have to be a symbol of male dominance over women.

She was also not playing around. There was nothing of foreplay in the way that she slurped me up. This was business, and she was going to quickly and efficiently pull every last ounce of stamina, strength, and free will out of my reserves. It was not long before I once again succumbed, even though I really tried to keep myself in. I was simply powerless between her lips, a plaything for her tongue.

And, as before, once I began to flow, the flow did not stop. She drew all of my vigor and vitality into her mouth, and greedily swallowed it down. While before I had been surprised by the shrinkage after the fact, this time I could feel it happening. I was being deflated. She was sucking in my very self, ounce by ounce, into her mouth and sending me down into her stomach.

After time, the pleasure did begin to transform into pain, as my body could not stand much more of myself being pumped out. The pain grew and I wondered if I ought to struggle. Yet, by what right could I struggle? She owned me, and could do with me what she wanted. That's what I had literally signed up for. It was my duty to bear it as submissively as I could.

Just at the moment that I thought I would pass out, she released me, coming up for air herself. She bounded up and inhaled. I could see her full belly slosh behind her shirt.

She was gargantuan as she stood over me, triumphant in her exploit. I slid down off the shampoo chair into what felt like a puddle at her feet. She looked down at me, and placed her bare foot on my shoulder, like a victorious gladiator over her defeated opponent.

*******

"Come on up!" she said, waking me from having fainted or having drifted off in reverie.

I was too confused for a moment.

"Come up to my apartment over the salon," she clarified.

I did as she told me, scraping myself off the floor. I had no energy to speak of as I did so. I struggled to maintain my balance on my feet. By contrast, she seemed to have no lack of vitality.

She opened a door, behind which there was a stairway upwards to the apartment upstairs. She flipped on the light and ascended the stairs with me in tow. Walking up the stairs was a chore with what felt like my smaller and more spare frame, while for her - now seeming to have greater volume - it seemed like she had the energy to bound up those stairs.

She opened a door at the top, and we entered her living space. It was comfortably decorated, but certainly not extravagant. As I came in after her, she turned around. I attempted to stand up straight, curious to see what had happened to our relative statures.

I looked straight at that lovely dip between her collarbones, below the neck. She was essentially a head taller than me now. As she looked back at me, it was clear that she knew what I was doing. She smirked and stepped closer to me, so that my gaze was directly on that space at the base of her throat.

I looked up at her, and her eyes met mine.

"This is only the beginning," she said.

Her looking down on me, with the air of superior confidence that combined her greater height, strength and the fact that I now literally belonged to her, made me nearly swoon with submission, defeatedness, and physical exhaustion.

"I want you to meet someone," she said, as she turned away from me and walked to a corner of the room near a large window.

In the corner stood a bird cage on a pedestal. There was a cloth over the bird cage, a covering that allowed a bird inside to sleep. I guessed that I was about to meet her pet bird. Standing beside the pedestal, she reached up and removed the covering.

I was surprised when I did not see a parrot or parakeet sitting on a perch. Instead of a swinging perch, there was a little platform, with what looked like a small single-story house made of mostly red plastic. It had a green front door and yellow window shutters. It looked like the sort of thing that 3-year-olds play with.

"Come on out," Jo Anna called.

The house's plastic-green door opened, and a little man walked out. He was no more than an inch tall, wearing small home-made boxer shorts, but nothing else.

"This is Robert," she said to me, while looking at him. "he's my husband.

"Robert," she said by way of introducing me to him, "Mark is now my slave."

He looked over at me, but did not seem to be able to do little more than gawk. It was little different than what I was capable of at that moment.

"Anyway, don't worry about getting to know one another," she said, "but it's still polite of me to introduce you."

I couldn't help but feel a little put out by this. I had simply assumed that Jo Anna and I would be having a monogamous mistress-slave relationship. I hadn't thought that she was married - and certainly not that her husband would only be an inch tall. At least, between him and me, I had the benefit of still being nearly normal human size. If he was feeling any of the disappointment that I was feeling, it would probably be multiplied by however much larger I was than him.

She opened up the cage and reached in. Robert seemed to be fairly passive as she picked him up and held him in her hand.

"How's my little Robert?" she asked, kissing at him, the way one would with a beloved pet.

"He's a little put out," she explained to me, "but that's alright. He can still think and talk like a normal guy. He just doesn't want to right now."

"Let's go over to the couch, shall we?" she said, though it was clear that he wasn't making a request.

She sat down on the plush red-fabric couch. As I made may way over to join her, she shoved the coffee table aside with her large leg. That left a space open before the couch where she was sitting. She did so while looking at Robert who was still in her hand.

She glanced up at me, and motioned to the floor before her feet.

"Why don't you kneel down there?" she suggested, as she kicked the flip-flops off again.

I did so, bowing my head. I looked at her feet, thinking that I could either kiss them again, or get back to giving them a massage. She, meanwhile, set her left foot (right, from my perspective) on my leg, while she hung her right foot in front of my face.

I decided to go for both. I kissed her big toe, while my thumbs rubbed the sole of her foot. It was almost as if I was playing a recorder flute.

"Mmmmm, actually....!" She said, as she seemed to have an idea.

Taking her foot away, she stood up in front of me. With me down on my knees, she was absolutely Amazonian standing above me - Amazonian and worshipful.

"Take off my pants," she commanded.

As I unbuckled her belt, she talked to Robert: "What do you think of my slave, hmm?"

If he answered her, I could not hear it. She seemed to be listening.

"Oh, come," she said, "there's nothing to be jealous of. There's more than enough of me for the both of you."

Given our statures, that was certainly correct. I imagine neither of us liked to hear it. Yes, he was her husband, and probably had a more legitimate complaint. Yet, he was also really tiny and couldn't do anything about anything.

I pulled her pants down over her hips, and down to her ankles. She put her hand on my head as she steadied herself and stepped out of them. I looked up at her, and with a nod I got the message that she wanted her panties off too. I guessed that we were going to do what I had almost done before down in the salon. We repeated the same motions as with her pants, and she was naked from the bottom down.

With her hand still on my head, she pulled me into her. I snaked my tongue into the place where it would do the most good, though it was difficult as her legs were still straight. Her hand released me, but I continued to give her pleasure as best as I could. I could feel her working her top, as I wondered what she was doing with Robert during this maneuver.

I heard her top hit the floor somewhere, and now felt both her hands on my head. Her hands were large and strong, and she held my head to her womanhood, as she sat back down on the couch.

"Oh, yeah, keep doing that," she said.

Seated, she opened her legs, making her womanhood more accessible to me. With her leaning back, I was able to look up at her. She was quite the sight to behold. She had a beautiful, if large, stomach. Above her stomach, I could see her attractive breasts. They were certainly in perfect proportion with the rest of her body - and certainly flush, almost as if she had been with child. Between them I saw that Robert was hanging on for dear life.

With her leaning back, however, that seemed to become easier for tiny Robert, as her chest went a bit more horizonal than it must have been previously.

I continued to do my duty to her nethers, but I also continued to look up at her. This woman was in full control. She owned me, and was an absolute titan to her little husband. Worshiping her was pure pleasure!

"Come on up here, Robert," she said. "Bring me your little pecker."

While my 'pecker' would surely have deflated had it been referred to as such, it was very much the opposite of deflated at that moment, seemingly having fully recovered from the de-fellatation it had enjoyed or suffered before. It also seemed, by what I could just barely see from my vantage, that Robert's pecker also stood at attention. Nevertheless, the rest of his body seemed to hesitate.

"I can see you want it...!" she said to him.

He slowly moved closer to her face by ascending her sternum up to the dip that I had been looking at before. She leaned her chin down, so that he could get up on it, which he did. She pursed her lips.

As she did so, she and I seemed to catch each other's eye. He, meanwhile, obediently placed his small manhood on her lower lip, allowing it to slip into her mouth. As this happened, her hands became a little more forceful on my head. Apparently, I had been losing my focus, feeling just a little put out that I was giving my mistress head, just as she was doing so to this man - even if he was tiny.

I knew my duty and redoubled my efforts to give my new mistress the pleasure she deserved. In my jealousy, I wanted to be able to give her better head than she might have ever had before, and as such cement my place as her foremost plaything. I might be resigned to be a slave, but I still had a native alpha-masculine urge to be Number One.

The simultaneous head-giving continued, and I could feel that it was driving to a climax in the great woman who held by head like a cantaloupe. I thought that she would force my face into her, but at a moment, she pulled me up so that I could look up at her. I could see that Robert's back was arched backward, also at the climax of pleasure.

Jo Anna's an my eyes locked again, and she winked at me. I then saw her tongue emerge from between her lips, curl around Robert, and pull him inside her mouth. Just as I thought that that would be an awesome way to have a blow-job end, I saw her throat contract and expand.

She had just swallowed him!

My face was then mashed back into her womanhood, and I stuck my tongue into her as deeply as it could possibly go. In my own passion I also wanted to be inside her, and if I could have done so by crawling into her vagina I would not have hesitated. Dwspite any direct stimulation, my own load also blew, spewing on the floor between my knees.

After both of us enjoyed some spasm, she pulled me up, and placed my cheek on her stomach - that stomach where she had just sent her husband - her husband who had probably gotten to be so tiny in the same way that I had also been made smaller.

"How did you like that?" she asked, breathing heavily as she came down from the climax.

I was speechless. I had never known anything like it, but it was clear that it had overwhelmed my mind so that my body had been helpless but to respond with sexual apogee. The sole of her foot could probably feel as much.

"That's where you'll go too," she said, "eventually."

I was on my knees, my smaller body between her legs, and my face lying on her belly, with my nose near her belly button. My ear was listening to the churning of her stomach. I did not hear any screams, but I knew there was a man inside of her, being prepared for digestion.

She was a positively large and powerful woman, who owned me, and who could do anything she wanted with me. That, and she told me that she was - at some point - going to swallow me up. Furthermore, she had just proven herself absolutely capable of following through on that promise.

This left me quite terrified as I lay there, with my cheek against the stomach into which she was promising to engulf me. Being swallowed up would be the death of me; I would cease to exist. My life would be over, and she would experience pleasure at that fact, just as she was now enjoying the whole-body sacrifice of her soon-to-be-late husband.

She put her hand on my head, and stroked by hair, as we both lay there in post-coital reverie. That stroking, as well as the previous exertion, began to make me sleepy.

While my life had certainly not been easy - and it had just changed to the degree that I was not even a free man anymore - I was not particularly eager to quit my life. Just sexually speaking, I was even enjoying the best sex that I had ever had with this woman who was now my owner and mistress. The sheer fact of my surrender was like a turbocharge to my libido. But I didn't want to die.

"I don't want to die," I said softly.

"I know honey," she said after a pause, with a kind voice. "Neither did Robert."

"But his life belonged to me, just as yours does," she continued.

"But...!" I began to protest before she shushed me.

"Hush now, baby, and just lie there. Think about how he's inside me, belonging to me in the ultimate way. I know you're afraid, but I also know that you feel it's right - just as he knew that this would be his proper destiny."

I wasn't so sure I agreed with that.

"You kissed my feet and surrendered yourself to me," she said. "You didn't make any conditions, and so your life is completely mine to do what I want with."

"And look at you now. You're right down by my belly, and you love it."

She was right. There was something irresistibly alluring about having my comparatively little face mashed up against her beautifully large abdomen. The fact that she had just swallowed someone up, and was promising to do the same to me, just added to her belly's allure, and her worshipfulness.

"Eventually, you'll realize that you want to be inside me, just like Robert did."

"But don't think about that now, honey. You're tired. You've been through a lot today. Just go to sleep like that."

I wanted to protest some more, but she was also right that I was tired, and lying up against her full stomach was as comforting as it was comfortable.

"Just go to sleep," she said softly, which I did.

*******

I woke up at some point in the night. It was dark outside, but the moon and the streetlights shone in through the large window. Since we had both passed out together while the day had still been light, the curtains had never been drawn.

Jo Anna was still fast asleep, as I heard her snore.

I thought about how different she was from the feminine beauty ideal. She was the opposite of a lithe petite young woman, dainty as a porcelain doll. No, Jo Anna was a great big powerful woman, almost masculine in some ways - certainly in terms of her self-assurance.

I slowly unraveled myself from my position still on my knees, between her legs. I was feeling a little sore on those knees, and needed to stretch a little for my back's sake.

Once I had done so, I looked at her in the street- and moonlight. I also looked at myself in comparison. I was really smaller than I had been, and my remaining clothes were quite loose. Thankfully, for her, she was naked and unencumbered by clothing that would have been too tight.

I also compared myself to some of the furniture and other things around her apartment, which I could judge to have a standard size - or at least, sizes that I was used to: her couch, the height of the coffee table, the knob on the door, the kitchen counters.

I was really somewhat smaller - probably about five feet tall now. She, on the other hand, while having started big, was now even larger - six and a half, maybe even seven feet tall? No! Before I had looked at the dip below her throat, which suggested about a head taller -two feet would have been about two heads. My eyes were probably playing tricks on me.

Also, there was a part of me - the same part that relished being her slave, and that enjoyed the butterfly feeling that the threat of being swallowed up by her gave me - that wanted to shrink down as she grew. I looked at her now and just worshiped her great body - that body which was naked in the moonlight.

A chill came over me. It was not just a chill from the realization of it all, but a chill of colder air. It was nighttime, and her apartment had cooled off a little.

I looked around, seeing if I could find a blanket of some sort. When I found her bedroom, I found a number of them. Some on the bed, some others in the closet. I grabbed them all up and took them back to the couch in her living room, where she still sat snoring away. I put one of the blankets on her, and laid another on the ground before her feet. It gave me a hard-on to do so, but I laid myself down on that blanket, and nudged my head up against one of those bare feet of hers. I kissed it goodnight, and went back to sleep.

*******

I woke up again, feeling something moving over my head. It was familiar, as I felt her toes combing their way through my hair.

"Wake up, sleepy-slave," she said, laughing.

"There, kiss my heel," she casually commanded, as she hung her foot in front of my face.

I did so, and once my kiss was complete she stood up over me. I also stood up and looked at her. We were pretty much the same as I remembered, though the dip under her neck was a little higher than before. What I had seen in the night was probably the result of some half-sleep state that I had probably been in.

She smiled down at me, seemingly very satisfied with our new situation.

"First thing," she said, "is that you need to wash me. Go to the bathroom, and get the water running nice and hot. I'll grab some clothes for afterward."

I did as she told me. In the bathroom, there was a large shower stall. I didn't much care for shower stalls, being more of a bathtub man. But this would certainly be easier for us both to navigate, if she intended what I thought she might. I ran the hot water, letting the cold water flush out of the pipes, as I took off my clothes, placing them in a corner. I moderated the hot water just a little bit, to avoid scalding. Thankfully, I also liked my showers hot.

A few moments later, she joined me, just as naked as I was, though she had had a head start the previous night. It was still just amazing how much she towered over me now. She smiled at me excitedly, as she handed me a washcloth and some soap.

"Scrub my back, will ya?" she said, more of a command than a request, of course.

We both got in the shower stall. She first faced away from the stream to get her back wet, and then faced back toward it. I got in behind her, and dutifully began washing her large back. Facing her backside, and both of us in naked and wet conditions, incited my member to grow somewhat, and occasionally hit the back of her upper leg.

"Ready to go again, are we?" she asked, "at this rate, I'll have you small enough to gobble up in no time!"

"I... I..didn't shrink again last night, did I?" I stammered nervously, still frightened by the prospect.

"Nope," she replied, while spreading the water on her front side with her massive arms.

"That only happens when I can suck more out of you than just your semen," she added matter-of-factly.

She then turned around to face me, even if she needed to look down steeply, given how close we were.

"Why, did you want to have another 'go' right now?" she asked.

My eyes must have bugged out, and I was unable to formulate an answer right away. She put her great hand on my shoulder, as she steadied herself and she got down on a knee.

"I'm happy to give you more head if it means you get even smaller even sooner," she declared, already going for my penis.

Given that my mortality was at stake, it wasn't really what I was going for. I had just been unable to put together the words to decline as politely as an owned slave might. But before I could make even that known to her, her mouth was all around me. She slurped me up, and within her mouth, her tongue caressed my head. As she did so, I remembered seeing her slurp up Robert, and though that if this went along much more, my member was experiencing what the whole rest of me would do soon as well.

These thoughts also didn't help my predicament, as they brought me even closer to the edge. I clenched my eyes, hoping to will myself to not come.

My efforts were nearly in vain when she released me. When I opened my eyes to see what was happening, I was looking directly into her face. She was grinning predatorily.

"I'm so glad that you want this as much as I do, and as quickly as I do," she said.

Once again my words failed me, and once again there was to little time, because her forceful approach overwhelmed me. She grabbed me by the sides at my ribs, and bodily picked me up high and put me up against the wall. My head barely missed the ceiling. Between my legs her mouth lunged and sucked me in again. In addition to her legal ownership of me, my clear sexual desire to be possessed by her, and her mental acuity over my addle-brainedness, she was now proving to have physically overpowered me as well. Her mastery over me was obviously complete, and my manhood now surrendered his contents as well, spewing them forth into her mouth for a third time.

And for a third time, the feeling was overwhelmingly divine. Pleasure rocked through my penis and up my spine. The gushing of fluid through my member's head forced endorphins to circulate like mad. My already shaky willpower completely snapped.

"Yes!" I screamed "take me into your mouth!"

"Take me into your mouth and swallow me whole!" I added with gusto.

She did not take the moment to halt, but just kept on swallowing me, gulp by gulp, ounce by ounce, of fluid. I felt myself drain and shrink, and her swell up and grow around me. Just before I might have passed out, she let go and gasped for air.

She slowly let me sink back down, my feet settling on the floor. My legs would have collapsed, but she continued to hold me aloft.

Right before me were her breasts. She pressed me into them, and my nose was stuffed right to the middle base of them. I was again smaller, and she was, again, larger. I was weak, and could offer no more resistance if I had been a stuffed animal.

I heard her giggle.

"My little slave-man," she said, looking down at me.

She loosened her grip, and I collapsed in a puddle at her feet. She put one foot on me, again in that sign of gladiatorial victory, as she continued to wash herself.

Nearly limp, all I could do was to reach around her steady ankle which poised the foot which remained solid on the floor of the shower stall. I pulled myself toward the one foot, while the other remained on top of me.

In addition to being smaller, again, I also felt small, whereas she not only was big, she also seemed so big and powerful. It seemed like a great cosmic justice that a man as puny as I had become would now be her slave, and soon be her food.

That day she had me man the broom in her hair salon, whisking away her customers' shorn hair as it fell to the ground. When I wasn't working the broom, she had me wash the windows, and do other small tasks around her shop. She was an excellent hair dresser, and wasn't too expensive, so there were few moments when there were no customers being actively helped, and there were usually one or two people waiting.

I even took the initiative to offer those waiting some coffee or tea. At least, I did so with the ladies - who were the bulk of her customers. That was fine, since the women required more attention, and also paid more for their haircuts. Just like it had been with me when I had been her customer, most of the guys could be helped in 20 minutes or less. She approved of the initiative, and certainly the customers appreciated the added service.

Some of her regulars raised their eyebrows when they saw me helping out. They also seemed to notice that there was something different about Jo Anna, but the fact that she was about six inches to a foot taller than she had been before probably seemed too outlandish to be true. They probably figured that they had not quite noticed how big she had been before. Either that, or they were simply not prepared to comment on what they saw, content to just receive their haircut and be on their way.

There was one customer, however, who was both observant and outspoken. She struck me as a bored - but attractive - housewife. She and Jo Anna talked about the former's kids, who were off to school, and her husband at work.

"You look positively radiant, Jo!" she said.

"Thanks, Diana," Jo Anna replied. "What'll it be today."

"No, I mean there is something different about you," Diana persisted, not allowing Jo Anna to change the conversation.

"Well, as you see, I've got some new help," Jo Anna replied, nodding to me.

"I see that. That must be nice. Maybe an employee is just the thing you needed."

At that point, I decided to be the flippant one, where Jo Anna had been yesterday with the senior woman.

"Actually, I'm not an employee. I'm her slave," I said excitedly.

For much of the day, whenever she had been attending to customers, cutting their hair, I had been sneaking peeks at my mistress. The sex we had been having, coupled with the exhilaration of being her property, and anticipating the sex we would still have, had all been going to that between-the-legs part of my brain. I was frankly being overwhelmed by it all, and it was making me giddy.

"Oh, even better!" Diana said, seeming to take it as a joke - just as I had intended her to.

"And what has this slave been doing ... for you?" Diana asked naughtily of Jo Anna.

"Oh...?" Jo Anna said, thinking about how to respond, "he's been rubbing my feet during down times."

This day there really had not been any down time, so she was kind of making things up ? possibly referring to some of what happened yesterday, when there had been that down time.

"Mmmmmm, is he any good at it?" Diana inquired.

"He's the best!" Jo Anna informed her.

"Really...!?" Diana remarked, "and is this some new service that your salon is offering?"

Uh oh. I wasn't sure that I liked where this could go. While Diana was certainly a lovely woman, whose feet might be nice to rub, there were plenty of customers whose feet I would rather avoid. I certainly did not want to end up rubbing the feet of any male customers. Thankfully there were not any other customers in the salon at that moment.

I must have worn my shock on my face, as Jo Anna looked at me and had an impious-evil look in her eye.

"It's an idea!" Jo Anna replied.

"I have a spare twenty, if he'd do mine now," Diana said, letting that idea simmer in Jo Anna's mind at a slightly higher temperature.

"Deal!" Jo Anna declared, seemingly not needing much more heat to simmer over.

She looked at me and nodded for me to get to work.

I sat down in front of the salon chair in front of Diana's feet, while Jo Anna began to spray her customer's hair to begin the haircut. Diana leaned herself back, clearly intending to enjoy the attention to both her head and to her toes. I took off her shoes, and then her socks. Her feet were very different from Jo Anna's. While Jo Anna took good care of her feet, they were still large and strong peds, where Diana's were smooth and shapely. Though they were not particularly damp, I nevertheless took a towel to wipe them softly. I really loved the feel of dry feet.

I then began to rub them. I will confess that I had become a good foot rubber over the years of marriage, and I was putting that skill to use. I was, however, not a professional masseur. Given how nicely Diana's feet were pedicured, I figured that she was no stranger to professional foot rubs. I was starting to get nervous that I wouldn't give her her $20's worth, and that she would be disappointed with Jo Anna. Diana was also not commenting, or making any noises of satisfaction, the way one would expect and hope she would, if I had been doing a particularly good job of it.

"Now Mark," Jo Anna said, "why don't you do that thing that you do for me, which make your massages the best."

I wasn't sure what she meant, and thus looked up at her. Diana's eyes were closed, but I could see Jo Anna's plain enough. She pursed her lips in a kiss to suggest what she meant.

"Mmmm, and what is that?" Diana inquired, but kept her eyes closed.

I did as I was told. I bowed my head down and placed my lips on Diana's toes. I did not hear anything, which might mean that Diana had not yet figured out what was going on. I kissed her foot again, and moved my lips so that they would be more identifiable as such.

"Oh...my!" Diana giggled.

I then kissed her foot again, this time on the inside of her instep. That I followed up with one closer to her arch.

"I see what you mean by 'slave'," Diana remarked. "This is heavenly!"

Giving up on the foot-rub component, I simply continued to kiss Diana's foot, and after a while switched to the other one. Jo Anna, meanwhile continued the haircut, while Diana soaked in all the attention to both ends of her body.

"Where can I buy one of these?" she asked, after a while.

"Not from me," Jo Anna answered. "I'm going to consume him completely."

"Oh, I bet you are!" Diana said, probably clueless to how literally Jo Anna meant it.

Once the hair cut was done, Jo Anna and Diana settled up while I swept the floor. I tried hard to face away from Diana and my mistress as I did so in order to hide the bulge in my pants.

"Wow, that was almost indecent," Diana remarked as she handed the money over. Jo Anna simply smirked, pocketing the bills.

"See you next time!" Diana giggled, as she left the salon.

Jo Anna locked the door behind her. That was a bit odd, since it was still fairly early in the afternoon, and business hours were far from over. It was, however, a lull, with no customers in the shop for the first time since opening.

"Get upstairs you little foot slut," Jo Anna said, though it was clear that she was not actually upset with me. "And don't forget to gargle."

I did as she told me. I hurried up the stairs and into the bathroom where I gargled on some Listerine. I had barely stepped out of the bathroom when Jo Anna grabbed me by the shirt and forced me over onto the couch - basically throwing me on my back.

She was on top of me in an instant, her larger head looming over mine.

"You'd better not forget that you're mine!" she said, threateningly.

"I won't," I replied meekly.

"Damn straight you won't," she said, as she kissed me roughly, before leaning back and upward so that she towered over me. With my now-slight body between her massive legs, both folded on either side of me, I felt very small as I looked up at her.

"Pleasure me," she said.

I slid downwards, to place my head between her legs. I grabbed her feet with my hands as I did so, loving the texture of her soles. I did not take any extra time to start my activities with my tongue, probing her labia. After a few haphazard licks to explore the territory, I found the place where repeated licking would be doing the trick for her. I then went straight to work.

She came very rapidly, after which she took me by the shoulders and dragged me up.

"Good!" she said, somewhat out of breath. "Now your turn."

Before I knew it, my member was in her mouth. She also took some exploratory drags before coming up.

"I'm gonna have you smaller, and closer to your destiny inside my belly!" she said, before going back down on me.

"Yes!" I exclaimed with pleasure.

"I'm your slave!" I added.

"And I'm going to be your food!"

Having already been excited by the footrub, and then her manhandling me, it also did not take me long to come. As before, once I came, I kept on coming, as she sucked and sucked all that she could out of me. I could feel myself slightly shrinking, just as I could feel her strong shoulders under my hands becoming larger and stronger. If I had been small enough already, I probably would have gleefully jumped down her throat, so wonderful it was to feel this surrender to this powerful woman.

This caused me to feel like I was flowing even more than before - as if more of me had become liquid inside of me and was being drained into her. Was it because I wanted it - I wanted to be small, in her hand - indeed, in her mouth and then her stomach?

I didn't fight it, I just let myself go, surrendering to her, the situation, and my destiny. I felt her continue to grow, and myself to shrink.

After a time she gasped for air, as I felt like a deflated inner tube. I barely had the wherewithal to consider myself and my surroundings. She, however, was both fit and energetic, once she had caught her breath.

She hauled my up on my feet to check out my new size, as compared to hers. My eyes were at the level of her belly - her big powerful stomach - my destiny! It just looked so welcoming to me, like an awaiting haven.

"Oh, there we go!" she said, high above me. "You're really getting there!"

I looked up at her. She was just magnificently grand as she loomed over me. I sank down to my knees in awe and submission.

"I belong to you and only you, my Goddess!" I said, looking down at her feet. "It will be my honor to feed you."

"Mmm, I'm glad you're seeing it my way," she said in return. "I'm looking forward to it already, and at this rate, we're probably going to make it happen really soon too."

The excitement of this was overwhelming me. It gripped my libido like nothing else had ever done. However, now that my libido had been spent, there was also the mortal matter: I was not going to survive being her food. We were talking lustily about my death, and I did not actually want to die. My life had been one of some frustration, but that still didn't mean that I didn't want to live.

We had, of course, already had this conversation. Her reply to my worry had been that her husband had also wanted to live - but I had seen her eat him up, and I had not seen her bring him back up. I couldn't imagine that he might actually still be alive inside her. So, yes: we were talking about mortality!

Alive inside her. Could that actually be? Surely she wasn't some monster who wanted to kill the men who loved and worshiped her. But - how would he breathe in there? These were the thoughts that were going through my head as I knelt silently at her feet.

I looked up at her, hopeful that maybe she was not going to end my life.

"Is Robert still inside you?"

She looked down at me, with an odd motherly look in her eye. I think she knew what I was really asking.

She sat back down on the couch. I knelt between her legs, her knees large on either side of me. She looked me in the eye, her head still over me. It felt like I was a little boy again, and Jo Anna a caring adult about to explain one of life's lessons.

"Honey," she said, seemingly taking on that role as well. "Robert was both my husband and my slave. Just like you, he was into these things, and just like you he wanted to be mine as both my servant and my food."

It didn't sound like she was going to tell me that he was still alive. It was like she was about to tell that young boy not just one of life's lessons, but the Big Truth of mortal life: that it all comes to an end for all of us.

"Do you want to marry me too?"

I'm not really sure why I asked that. It just came out. Perhaps I was thinking that it was a way to stall for time. Since life is bounded for an uncertain number of years between birth and death, life is really just an amount of time. If I could delay the time that she ate me, I would live more. Perhaps I might even figure out a way to escape this predicament, if I wanted to save my life ? which is what I did feel like doing.

"That's not necessary," she replied, shutting me down. "I married Robert for fun, and to make sure that I would own his stuff. You don't have any stuff."

"And,...." she said, sounding like that adult again, who was about to suggest a game to the little boy, "...I'm having plenty of fun with you just as you are!"

But I wasn't a little boy who could be so easily distracted. My face certainly did not light up. I could tell by her face that the roles we seemed to have been playing - adult and child - weren't really adding up any more. We were something fundamentally different to one another: owner and slave, predator and prey. It made me even feel like a form of livestock, which wasn't a particularly exciting thought to me, to be compared to a pig or a cow, much less a chicken.

"Yes," she said, answering my unspoken question. "Your life is going to end inside me. That's going to be sad. It's going to be overwhelming for you, of course, but also sad for me. I'm really enjoying having you with me. You've always been fun in the salon chair, and the sex has been great. I also really like how you've totally gotten into the submission."

"But this is the way it's got to be. Life creates life. Mothers give life to children, but prey also give life to their predators. The prey don't want to do that, but they don't have a choice in the matter. Life must go on from one to the other."

"But can't you just eat a hamburger or something?" I asked. "Why does it have to be me?"

"Because life is more than just food. Yeah, I could eat up a hamburger, but a burger doesn't give me what I really crave. Since you've never had another human being inside of your stomach - giving their life to you - you can't really understand it. Meat gives me the fuel to keep running; your life becoming mine in the ultimate way gives me the feeling that I'm divine."

"They say that the high from heroin is ten times better than sex. Well, as good as our sex has been, having someone become part of you is ten times better than heroin."

She hadn't seemed to be so overwhelmed when she had gobbled up Robert. That thought must have put my skepticism on my face, because she could see that I wasn't buying it.

She fixed me with her eyes, making sure that I understood what she was about to tell me.

"I don't need you to get it, Mark. You're going into my stomach either way. So far, you've been a great sport about it, and I can tell you that it'll be way better if you just keep being my slave and worshiper, because if you put up a fight, you're going to go down a helluva lot uglier than Robert did."

That took some sinking in. I wasn't quite sure what that uglier would be, but I could imagine teeth - or that livestock chicken that I had been thinking about earlier. It did not look like an attractive alternative to Robert's fate.

She kept her eyes on me, allowing me to think this through. I did think it through, and it did seem that I had been quite a bit happier while we were still having fun (and sex) just a little while ago, than after we started talking about the death stuff.

I was not a little boy; I was a grown man, despite my size. However, just like a little boy I started to feel tears well up in my eyes. That seemed to also soften her demeanor, putting her back into the role of the caring adult.

"Oh, come here," she said as she drew me into her arms.

I allowed myself to be drawn in. She enveloped me. Her powerful arms closed themselves around me, just as my small body seemed to disappear into her larger one - not unlike the way this was destined to go down. I began to sob like a child that had given up hope and was just conceding the fight.

It also felt really good. She felt comfortable, and the feeling of submission that I had been having had also felt out-of-this-world good. Death was inevitable, but this feeling of ultimate surrender was overwhelmingly alluring as well. It also felt good to just give up the tears and let them go as she embraced me.

"There, there," she said, "it'll be alright" - and it felt like she both meant it and that it would be true.

I really needed it to be true, because I wouldn't be able to cope if I didn't believe that it were true. I needed to believe in it, and I needed to believe in her. I needed to believe that she was the Goddess who deserved my ultimate worship, whose glory would be worth everything.

"Thank you," I murmured, but still so that she might hear me. My rational self was not sure why I might say that, but I needed to abandon my rational self, and just allow my enraptured self to take over.

"You're welcome, honey," she replied. "You'll be alright. You'll see that it will all be alright when you're all in me."

"Yes," I stammered, needing to believe it. "I will be."

At this stage, I was barely four feet and seven inches tall and weighed only 108 pounds. She, on the other hand, measured herself at seven foot one, weighing about 310 pounds.

"Mmmm," she said, "this is going fast. I don't know if I'm going to have the patience to allow myself to settle down. I think I might want to just eat you up as soon as possible."

She was still standing on the scale, while I was standing beside her having just done my own weighing and measuring before we had done her. I looked up at her, and my face must have had a panicked expression on it, as well as a questioning one.

She did not answer me, but got off the scale. She nodded and I did as her gesture implied: I put the scale away where it belonged. As I did so, she walked back out to her living room and sat down on the couch.

I was left wondering about some things, however. Our combined weight now was about the same as it had been before we had begun exchanging mass. That, at least, added up. Yet, when she had swallowed Robert down, she had been a large woman already, but not two people's worth of large. What had she meant by 'settle down?'

Thinking about this, I followed her out to the living room, and knelt down at her feet as she was seated. I first looked down, but then pulled my face up to ask her the question.

"I know what you want to ask," she said before I could ask it.

"Yes, if I wait some time after feeding on your essence, I will reduce back down to normal size. I was almost back there when I took ownership of you. But you're not going to get your height back by just waiting. You're only going to get smaller. Until I eat you up, that is."

"So you waited with Robert?"

"Yes, I did."

"Will you,...?" I began.

"No I won't," she interrupted.

She fixed me with her eyes.

"When I ate Robert, I had almost forgotten how nice it was to eat someone up. We also didn't have much passion left at that point. But with you - this has been great! You've really given yourself to me, and it's awesome to feel this divine."

She then reached out with her hands, taking my arms - again, like an adult does a boy. She looked even deeper into my eyes, as she had my full attention.

"If I could, I'd swallow you up right now!"

As she said that, I could see right into her mouth. Almost involuntarily, I also leaned forward towards her mouth. As I did so, she clearly felt this nearly magnetic attraction that I had for her mouth.

"You see, you also want it!"

I just looked at back her. I was frightened of her power and voraciousness, as well as turned on by both of them. As she gazed at me with fiery eyes, I felt like a naked open book.

"Fuck it!" she exclaimed, "we're doing this again!"

Before she had finished, she picked me up and all but threw me down on the coffee table. My penis, which had been standing at attention, was quickly engulfed again. I don't know how it had managed to regain itself, since I still felt depleted.

She drew on me a couple of times, and then brought her face up to a level with mine again - hovering over me as I was on my back.

"You're going to be in my stomach faster than anyone who's ever gone there!"

Again I gazed into her mouth as she said this, and my face came forward.

She opened her mouth, allowing me to look.

In the meantime, she had apparently made it so that her downstairs was as naked as mine.

She licked my face, and drew her tongue back as if I was on it. She then reared up, allowing me to track my eyes along her throat. As my field of vision descended her throat to the base of her neck, and then her upper torso above her breasts. Then I was below her breast, and her nethers came down upon mine, engulfing my penis within them.

She completely dwarfed me. While my penis was insider her, her breasts came down on top of my head. Right in front of my eyes, then, was where I knew her stomach was inside her.

Her hand came around behind my head, and pushed me into her.

"You're going to feed me!" she said, as she pumped me.

"Yes!" was all I could say.

She then pushed me down to her abdomen, my face enveloped by the flesh of her belly.

"You're going to worship me as I digest you!"

"Yes!"

She then hauled me up again, and her lips opened wide in front of my face. I looked into her large mouth, wanting to crawl in - if only I could!

Before I knew it, she went down and her mouth then enveloped my downstairs again.

"Come!" she exclaimed pausing for just a moment.

"Come and become my food!"

I wanted to. I really did not feel like I had an ounce of sperm to give her, but I desperately wanted to.

Yet, it only took a few more drags before my penis spasmed with pleasure again, and she began to suck on me again. The pain came quickly this time, as I did not have much semen to give, and instead she was drawing more of 'me' into her. And again, I could feel myself deflating and reducing, while she drew strength and substance from me.

The pain had become excruciating, though I was absolutely powerless to do anything about it, when she finally let go.

She bounded onto her feet, while I collapsed on the coffee table. She looked conqueringly victorious, while I was clearly spent. I could not gauge her height with any accuracy, but it did not take much for her to lift up her foot and set it upon me, like a gladiatress over her defeated opponent, even with the coffee table propping me higher.

I would have kissed her foot if I had had the stamina to do anything beyond keeping my eyes open. Even that seemed to have become too much. As I looked up at her grinning down at me, I passed out.

*******

It was nighttime before I regained consciousness. It took me a moment to get my bearings. The first thing that I heard was a snore. As a great woman, Jo Anna had a manly snore. I had heard it before, and so that did not come as a surprise to me. But there was something different about its presence. By its 'feel' it was somewhere nearby, but less so by its sound.

I felt around me. I felt carpeting, but very rough carpeting. I do not remember carpet in her room as rough as this. Then I felt skin ? big rough skin. Feeling around it, I could tell that it was her foot, but her foot was also massive. Her big toe was the size of a cantaloupe. She continued to snore, so I knew that I had not woken her. I did not want to wake her, but I had to think about exactly why I did not.

The survival instinct told me that I should try to escape. It was clear that she aimed to eat me up, and I had seen her swallow up her husband. She was also even hungrier for me than she had been for him, when she did it. It was clearly not an idle threat. If I did not do something to thwart it, I was going to slide down her throat the way that he had done, and that would be the end of me. I would die!

But I would be inside her stomach, and there was something powerfully alluring about that. I imagined it like a full-body embrace, but then without her needing to use her arms. She could, of course, use her hand to rub her belly as I was inside it, loving me in my entirety.

But how could that be loving, if it was going to kill me?? Why on earth would I take succor from that!?

My eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and I could start to make out forms. I was on the floor at the foot of her bed, and her leg was draped over the side of the bed. Upon the bed, she must have been sleeping on her back, which explained the snore.

I stood up. The bed came to my chest. I was about the same size as her lower leg, as I saw that I was looking straight at her great knee. I walked to the place between her two legs. There was enough space for me to stand, and even see a bit of the bed between them. Her legs were spread open a little.

That survival instinct told me that this would be the moment for me to sneak out of the apartment, and try to get out and get help - to live. Another instinct, however, told me that this was a great opportunity to worship her.

Inexplicably, given that my life was on the line, worship won. It just felt too powerfully alluring to keep surrendering to Jo Anna, that I could not help myself from doing so. I knelt down and licked the arch of her right foot. I then kissed the inside ankle of the same. From there I worked my way up her great leg, kissing her calf, the inside of her knee, the inside of her upper leg, after which I faced her womanhood.

As I faced it, I felt her softly place her hand on my head, which then drew me in closer. Knowing what she wanted, I pleasured her. After just a little bit, I went down and kissed the inside of her other leg, so as to move myself down to her other foot, but her hand prevented me.

"No you don't," I heard her whisper. I could tell by the way she spoke that she was smiling.

Her hand then pulled me back in to her womanhood to continue the pleasuring. As I did so, it astounded me again how small I had gotten compared to her. I was a little taller, but thinner than an infant at her scale would be. Given that my head was about the same size - I estimated - I thought that it would not have been impossible for...

...just as my train of thought went in that direction, hers must have done so as well, as her one hand was joined by the other, and both seemed to be pulling me into her more forcefully. My face was mashed into her folds, which were now moist from both my saliva and her fluid. I nodded my face up and down, to let my nose work her.

She clearly liked that, but it was also not enough. She lifted her torso, so that her hands could grab my shoulders, and her fingers could hook my armpits. I knew what was about to happen and thankfully took a deep breath, since my face was plunged into her, or at least that's how it felt. I did my duty and worked my tongue, nose, and whole face to stimulate her clitoris. That was my job, and I did it as if my salvation depended on it. Part of me thought it might - given that maybe she'd want me to remain alive and this size so as to do this for longer. The more powerful part of me, however, did it because I was committed to worshiping her through pleasure.

I kept working her, using everything I had with all the vigor I could muster. The more I did so, the more she mashed me into herself. This kept on until I sensed her come. Once she had done so, she relaxed, but her hands pulled me a little further up so that my cheek rested on her lower abdomen, just below her navel.

"Oh, my little slave-man, that was nice," she said. "Just a little smaller, and you'll fit inside my belly from below, I think."

I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, so all I did was kiss her abdomen. How much smaller would I need to become? Would I suffocate in there?

"Don't worry," she said, as if she could read my thoughts, "your life is going to end inside my actual stomach, and nowhere else."

"I'm not going to let sexual lust rob me of the ultimate pleasure of feeling you churn inside my stomach as you digest for my glory."

I then surprised myself by responding: "Thank you, mistress."