It was quiet and calm. Nothing could intrude on the peaceful serenity that the Lady was enjoying. She slouched on her chair, in a relaxing position, with her eyes barely fighting to keep themselves open. The only thing preventing her from falling into a deep sleep, was her position above the miniature man beneath her very feet. He kneeled down, kissing each of her toes repeatedly. In a constant trance, it seemed that the tiny person did not tire of the monotony, instead embracing his position beneath this gargantuan behemoth. The toes themselves were not motivation for his obedience; the heat radiated off them after a morning stroll and the scent of a woman’s smell accompanied it. The taste was nothing remarkable, in fact, it was exactly how the taste of feet would taste, which was simply awful. It was the very act of surrender that pleased the Lady. The willingness of a vulgar and repulsive action, which brought her joy. A joy of dominance and control. She began to lift her foot, and suspend it above the slave. The removal of the foot from his lips brought a sense of dismay as well as a sense of thankfulness. His eyes grew wide however, when the oppressive sole of his mistress beared down on his body, applying a force so heavy that he felt his bones slowly degrading underneath the weight. But unfortunately for the tiny individual, that this was not even a full force being applied, but a restrained one. The Lady smirked at his struggles beneath her foot, finding a deep satisfaction into the now desperate man. “Yes” she said, “Struggle now. Perhaps you’ll be free. If it’s good enough, I’ll grant you a break”. And struggle the man did, with all of his might. He tried and he tried, but the body was not as willing as the mind. It seemed that the weight of the oot above him could not grant him movement, and that the weight was bearing down further. It seemed this was his end. And the Lady felt it too. She began to stand up, until she heard the patter of footsteps, quickly finding themselves at the front of her office. “Grandma!” a voice called, “Are you in your study?”
“Yes dear” the Lady replied, “I’ll be out in a moment”. She relieved the man of his displeasure, bending over, and picking him up from carpet. “You should thank my daughter the next time you find yourself with her” she said sternly. She walked over to her desk, where atop a box sat. It wasn’t particularly attractive, its design was ugly, yet distinctive. It was a box specifically to house this prisoner. She unlocked the top and opened the cube, which seemed to be filled with hay and a coin sized bowl of water. She carefully placed the small man inside, and closed the box, locking it again without a second’s moment of hesitation. The Lady walked to her door, and once opened, was granted with the sight of her young granddaughter, Grace. The young girl was energetic, youthful and above all beautiful for her age. Despite being eight, she had suitors. Of course, these suitors were not of maturity, but nonetheless, found themselves fawning over her. The girls long brunette hair, with braids circling the outer head, reminiscent of a crown for a princess. She smiled, with great white teeth, and a joyful attitude. The Lady smiled back, and Grace began to say “It’s time for supper Grandma!”
“Yes dear, thankyou for telling me” the Lady replied. “Should we go?”
“We should! We’re going to have a great cake for desert, and what Chef Lora says will be a delicious custard. Did you know custard is my favourite?”
“Yes darling, remember, I had some made for you this afternoon”
“Oh right. Sorry, sometimes I forget”.
“We forget a lot of things child, a lot of things.”
The Lady and her granddaughter walked into the dining hall, where her other granddaughter, Kira sat, alongside her mother and the Lady’s daughter, Emilia. The candle light stand separated the women from each other, as well as the servings of food. Grace skipped towards her seat, pulling it out gently before sitting down. The Lady was more delicate, removing it from the table as if to make little noise.
All of them sat in silence, with little intention to start a conversation, except for Grace, who was detailing the events that had occurred today. She described her adventures to the oak tree, outside of the courtyard, with the leaves that had not yet fallen from winter. She told of how she saw birds, singing to each other, trying to win the affection of a female. And she enthusiastically poke of her sighting of a tiny village, down by the river. The Lady raised a brow at this, asking questions such as ‘how long’ and ‘why’. Grace spoke “Because I was walking and I saw them. They’re all so cute, how they’re so tiny and all. I wish I could have one!”
The Lady smiled at her granddaughter, and asked “Why didn’t you get one? They’re there for the taking, and no one is really stopping you. My darling can have whatever she wants”
“That’s not allowed mother” said Emilia, “They changed the law a few months ago. It says that no one can forcefully capture a wild miniature. You have to buy them, even then, it’s quite rare to own one nowadays. You could always ask for one to come with you, but with the relationship that normal and miniatures have had over the years, it’s more likely for you to tame a wild wolf.”
“Oh nonsense, who enforces this law? In fact, tell me who conceived it, so that I can tell them that they interfere with the balance of natural order!”
“It was the local representative, Gloria Barker, she came around to our school, and spoke about treating everything with equal respect. She was an elegant lady, and really nice” answered Kira. The Lady went back to her dinner for a moment, and once again, the conversation was silence. Even Grace preferred to focus on her plate full of vegetables, but eventually inquired “Why did you want to know Grandmother?”
“Oh child, your grandmother grew up in a different time”, replied Emilia.
“Indeed I did” said the Lady, “Say, did I ever tell you about how we used to convince the miniatures to come with us?” The girls shook their heads, and Emilia interrupted “They don’t need to hear about this Mother, it’s quite vulgar”.
“Hogwash, why are you objecting? It’s not like anyone is eating this slop”. Finishing her sentence, the Lady glared at her servant, who got the hint and prepared to clear the table. “Now, now, listen. Your mother was quite fond of this as a child”
A young girl sat inside her room, with a group of smaller people, miniature people, inside a large fish bowl. The amount of people inside the bowl was around five, but there were a few younger looking ones, possibly around the ages of fourteen or sixteen. The girl herself, was Harley, a young lady with long blond pigtails that dangled over the bowl. The people inside of the bowl were scared, trembling and huddling up in an attempt to somehow hide from the massive face grinning down at them. A few moments later. Another young woman entered the room, with short dark hair, neatly trimmed. She lowered herself to spectate the tiny people and grinned as well. Their dresses matched, with a distinct floral patterns along the trims. The only difference, was that Harley wore a broach with a stallion, while the other girl, Louise, wore a wolf. Louise took her hand, and grabbed at one of the separate miniatures, which had chosen to not fruitlessly group up. He was taken out quickly, and the other people wailed at their loss. The tiny man did not flinch, and was not frightened by the girl’s devilish smile. He gulped, knowing that what was next was not something to be looking forward to. “Are you ready to worship your divine goddesses Mr. Mini?” asked Louise. The girls giggled, as the man violently shook his head in objection. Louise placed the man of the floor, with both girls cross legged, surrounding him. Louise stretched out her feet, wiggling her toes. Harley slowly moved her foot behind him, pushing him slowly towards the larger foot of the goddess in front of him. He could not move, nor did he want too. The punishment for running away was more painful than obeying their commands. He was pushed against the sweaty sole by Harley’s foot, being sandwiched between the two girl’s stench-ridden feet. He struggled, much to the girls delight as they laughed at his plight. The onlookers in the bowl did not yell or scream, or even object. They simply watched their companion become the unwilling foot massager to their enormous captors. “Kiss my feet!” Louise demanded. And the man obliged, reluctantly but doing so immediately. He did not hesitate, or even do so at a slow pace. You would think that the man kissed her feet with genuine affection. He planted his lips, over and over, tasting and absorbing the sweat that covered the foot. “Good boy, now do Goddess Harley’s now”. Harley had removed her foot, releasing the man. He turned around and leaned up against Louise’s sole, preparing to be forced upon the other sole that he had not yet been showered with his lips. As quickly as the reprieve had lifted, he was pressed against another sole, just as sweaty – if not more – than the other. Of course he still struggle, but of course he unwillingly forfeited his dignity, and kissed the bottom of Harley’s feet. The girls laughed and teased the man, with words such as ‘pathetic’, ‘weak’, ‘undeserving’. Words that could only further break his spirit. They repeated the action with their right feet, turning him around to face Louise’s and again to face Harley’s. They teased all the more, while the tiny people still trapped in the bowl were sobbing at their fates.
Eventually the girls grew tired, and picked up the tiny man – who now laid nearly unconscious – and dropped him in the bowl. His limp body did not move, and he passed out form the impact. “Now, now, now. Do we have any other volunteers?” No miniature stepped forward, with fear of what was to come. Louise grew angry at their seeming ignorance, and yelled “If one of you do not step forward, I will be forced to take desperate measures!” Still, no man, woman or child stepped forward. In a general case, it would be wise not to. Desperate measures in regards to a giant teasing a small would often mean death. To many, death seemed to be the preferred sentence regardless of method. A quick and painless would’ve been revered but more often than not, they would be granted something more slowly. Despite the odds being a death of being a cruel and drawn out act, it was still a loving release, which would let them suffer no longer. In this instance however, they were wrong. Harley whispered to her friend, “Are you going to squish them?”
Louise replied, “No actually, that would be too nice. I have something better in mind”. With that, the dark haired girl got up, and reached under her bed. She retrieved what was a stool, which had a lid, which unveiled an opening. She reached in, capturing one of the smaller and younger miniatures. All of them cried out, and pleading to take someone different, but to no avail. Louise lifted the lid of the stool, and placed the tiny girl inside. She then, in another act of cruel teasing, lifted her dress slowly. Revealing more and more of her undergarments with each inch. She then slowly removed the bloomers at the pace to mock the poor girl’s unfortunate destiny. Louise squatted over the chamber pot, to both the shock and awe of both Louise and the remaining miniatures. The dark haired girl began to urinate, with eh sound of her pee echoing through the chamber and the room. Eventually it stopped; Harley felt conflicted while Louise smiled, and gave a grunt of satisfaction, releasing a burst of gas into the hole. Then, an undesirable smell invaded the room, as they witnessed the large girl void her bowels into the chamber pot, burying the lowly tiny inside.
Emilia giggle as her mother finished her tale, while Kira couldn’t prevent herself from laughing as well. She hollered along with her mother, and the Lady gave a smile, as she had made her daughter and granddaughter laugh. But she noticed that her youngest did not grin or even smirk. Not even a shed of emotion, instead, a look of confusion on the face of Grace. Kira and Emilia left the dining hall satisfied, discussing the tale that had just been told. The child asked her grandmother, “Did you really do that? Did that tiny girl die?”
“I presume so. At her size, the piece of waste was probably hundreds of pounds, maybe a whole tonne. Don’t worry, she left serving her goddesses. It’s the best feeling in the world, and you know what Grace, I want you and Kira to experience the pleasure of fulfilling your role preserving the natural balance of things.” The Lady finished her spiel, and she walked with her granddaughter, with a loving smile and a sense of nostalgia. But still, Grace was confused.