I love Sundays.  On Sundays there’s nobody at home to bother me and tell me not to have a glass of wine or two at eleven in the morning.  On Sundays I can go all day without getting dressed.  It’s a day just for me, and that’s why I was even more delighted to find a Little girl in my living room, crawling along the edge of the baseboard and sniffling to herself.

On a Tuesday, I would have walked over to her and nudged her with my toes a few times, maybe chuckled at her a little bit and stepped on her, trying to guess how long she could hold her breath.  I wouldn’t just crush her on the floor, of course.  I’ve gotten enough complaints from my husband about stains.  On Sunday, though, I had the time to really enjoy the gift I’d been lucky enough to receive, and I could play a more elaborate game with the tiny, frightened child.

“Hi there, sweetheart,” I whispered as I took a few slow, dramatic steps towards her, imagining her staring at my advancing toes, watching my striped socks gently pad the floor.  She was terrified and really had every right to be, especially if she knew anything of my history with her kind, but children are always so much easier to convince.  I crouched down over her miniscule form and continued with my sweetest, softest whisper, “What are you doing here?  Are you lost?”

She screamed at my approach, and I’d learned enough that the sight of my four-hundred foot tall feminine frame dropping towards them so quickly usually was rather startling.  “Shh, sh sh shh,” I murmured, slowly shaking my head.  “I’m not going to hurt you, dear.  Now tell me, are you lost?  You’re so young to be out on your own.”

She really was.  It wasn’t easy to tell with Littles, since they rarely grew much more than a couple of inches, but I couldn’t imagine she was really prepared to be out on her own.  I’d decide later how much my promise meant to me.  I could kill her then if there turned out to be nothing better to do with my day.

Eventually her shrieking and sobbing slowed.  I let her stare at me for as long as she wanted, and really I sort of liked it.  I was a goddess to them,  a feminine force of nature, and I never got tired of the way they looked at me.  When it seemed like she might be ready for a little more of a push, I shifted slowly to my side and let her watch my legs stretch out towards the horizon, getting comfortable as I laid my hand at her side, offering my palm.  “It’s okay, sweetie, you’re okay.”  It could take a while but I was sure I could convince her.  “I’m not going to grab you, but I want to help.  You shouldn’t be out here, you know that, right?”

I smiled warmly and nodded my head, encouraging her to talk to me.  She wasn’t quite ready yet, but after a while she rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and nodded along.

“Giants might hurt me, or even step on me and make me dead.”

Oh god, she was so precious.  She understood what death was.  Smart for a kid, and I really, really liked that in her.  Now I really knew what I wanted from her, and it was more than just teasing her into trusting me.  “Some mean giants think Littles are icky, but I’m not like that.  I think you’re all sort of cute, in a way.  You don’t want to stay out here where all the scary giants are, right?”

Bless her heart, she really thought about it.  She looked at the ground and chewed her lip, then firmly shook her head a few times, though she still wouldn’t look at me.  I had her now, I was sure, and already the butterflies started flitting about in my breast.  This was going to be absolutely delicious.  “What’s your name, darling?  My name’s Lucy, and I’m very glad to meet you.”

Finally, she looked up at me through a mess of dirty hair and muttered something that I couldn’t really hear.  I was scared to lean in closer and risk frightening her again, but I had to know.  “Can you pretty please say it again?  It’s hard to hear with these big silly ears.”

God, she smiled.  She thought it was funny.  “Rebecca!” She called out to me, and I was so delighted that I immediately broke into an almost crazy grin.  Ever since I learned that Littles had names, I just had to learn each and every one.  There was just something so very special about knowing their names.  “Hi, Rebecca!” I replied with all the exuberance I could muster, giving her a little wave of my fingers.

“If you want, I’ll help you find your family, Rebecca.  If we can figure out where they are, you can climb on my hand and I’ll take you there faster than you can count to ten.  Does that sound okay?”

I was pretty sure she wouldn’t notice the faint quickening of my breath, and I struggled to calm the little tremors in my hands.  I had to seem calm and friendly if I was going to carry her.  She was definitely nervous, but I was the pretty giant girl with the ears that made her laugh.  I held my breath as she started climbing over my fingers.   “What’s it look like, where they are?  I’m sure I can find it.”

“There’s lots of wood,” she calls out, remembering to keep her voice raised for me.  “And Daddy said we could stay there for a long time because food was easy to get,” she continued before tumbling a bit and rolling along the warm, smooth flesh of my fingers.  Eventually she came to rest at the edge of my palm, and while she pulled herself up she finished with, “the ground is hard  and smooth, too, not like the wood in here.”

Obviously the little maggots were in the kitchen.  Where else would they be?  Instantly I was planning, mapping out my kitchen, laying out the events as I’d want them to happen.  I almost forgot to give Rebecca a cursory, “hold on” before I pulled myself to my feet.  I had what I needed from her, and I didn’t restrain my stride one bit, letting my long legs swing with each eager, heavy step.  So long as she didn’t fall I’d be fine, and I had no problem letting the rest of the Littles know that I was coming.

“Come out!” I called, crossing into the kitchen in a half-dozen steps.  It really was a matter of seconds for me, despite being a day long adventure for my tiny companion.  “Come out, all of you, I brought Rebecca back and she really wants to see all of you.”

My eyes scanned the floor anxiously, desperately seeking the tiniest speck of movement.  I’d gambled that they were new here, that they were fool enough to trust me and that they’d all pile out to greet their lost little girl, but if I had to I’d sweep in to wherever I saw one come from and drag out the rest.  Fortunately, though, I caught sight of one slipping out from the base of a cabinet, and I couldn’t resist a little smirk as three more tiny forms followed.

I crouched to the ground, carefully lowering my hand and letting Rebecca clamber down to solid ground and begin scampering towards them.  The others didn’t move at first, but I put on my warmest smile and murmured, “It’s okay, go on,” and soon they were all running towards each other in the middle of my kitchen floor.

My lungs filled with a deep, settling breath as I rose back to my full height and counted.  One, two, and three, then in that instant I surged into motion.  With the first quick step forward I stretched out an arm and snatched a shot glass from my counter.   With the second I was already over them, eyes blazing with vicious intent, and before they were in each other’s arms, I’d crouched down and slammed my little clear glass over the eager Little girl.  This was as much reunion as they were going to get.

“Oh no, Little bugs,” I declared, my voice dripping with venom as I loomed over the terrified little family.  That’s what they had to be, a mother and father and their older daughter and son.  “Finders, keepers.  Little Rebecca’s mine now.”

It was so easy, extinguishing so much hope in an instant, leaving all five of my new Little playthings staring up at me, trembling and frozen in utter horror.  “Really, you’re all mine now, aren’t you?”  My long, dark hair spilled over my shoulders, casting some of them in shadow here and there, and I couldn’t help but grin all the more as the father began to grit his teeth.

“Come on,” I said, lifting my hand from the glass and letting my tiny prize get a clear look at her gathered family.  “You don’t want little Becky to see you like that, do you, Daddy?  It’s bad enough that she’s about to become an only child.”

Oh, God, they looked so surprised!  I don’t know what they expected, of course I was going to kill them.  I took the time to reach down and pull my socks up to the tops of my thighs, enjoying putting on a show for my horrified Little victims.  I had to make a little decision anyhow, but it wasn’t that difficult.  I’d do the boy first.  My eyes narrowed and I bit my lower lip while carefully stretching out my leg, letting my toes curl upwards a little so I could settle my sole onto his miniscule body.

It seemed like they were all paralyzed for a moment longer.  The mother and sister tumbled out of the way as my foot pinned the boy to the ground, but I was tremendously careful.  I wanted them to hear every desperate cry just as much as I wanted to feel him struggle beneath my sole.  Another second and they were all screaming, rushing at my foot, pounding at my striped sock.  “Michael!” they cried.  Tears filled the mother’s eyes, and the father filled his fists with the warm, fragrant fabric wrapped around my foot, straining with all of his negligible strength to move something a hundred times his size.

I stood there just drinking in the absolute panic for a while.  They really were little more than toys, and I could manipulate them with such tremendous ease.  "Hey, calm down Little ones.  Take a breath, he's already dead."

He wasn't, of course.  I've had more than ample opportunity to learn just how much a Little body can take and all the methods and tricks I can use to injure or break or frighten or kill.  I just wanted silence for what came next, and I simply watched as the family pulled themselves together a bit, the mother collapsing into the father's arms and sobbing softly and the children sinking to the ground and just staring blankly and my pretty and powerful foot.

We all heard the same thing: Michael's pathetic whimpering.  "Oh, wait, hold on," I murmured casually while lifting my heel and slowly, very slowly applying more and more pressure to tiny Little Michael's body.  The mother turned to rush my foot once again, but this time the father held her back.  He knew what was happening and that there was nothing they could do to stop me from crushing their son.

I felt the first wet crunches as surely as they heard them.  "Ooh, there we go," I remarked, my soft voice easily overpowering his agonized squeals.  I slowly twisted my foot, right and left and back once more, and quickly there was nothing left of Michael but a soft squishing to accompany the sound of my sock sliding across the floor.

"Run!" the father screamed.  "Just run and don't look back!" and his obedient family turned on their heels and started to bolt.  I let them go for half a moment, not wanting to cut short my chance to savor squishing little Michael, but before they'd gotten far at all I shouted, "No!"

It always amused me how much simply raising my voice impacted these Little things.  The father did his best to continue on, but he looked like he'd been punched in the gut.  The two females clutched their ears, and the younger one actually stopped in her tracks and turned back to look at me.

"There's no point in running, Little ones.  I don't even have to move to kill you, I can just stretch out my leg and crush each of you, one by one, and even take enough time to enjoy it.  You still wouldn't be out of the middle of my floor."

I raised my foot to let them have their first glance at the smeared remains of Michael while I continued my little lecture.  "Besides, you can't leave poor Rebecca behind."  I let my foot slowly settle onto the glass containing the young thing, giving her a moment to serenade her family with her tiny girl screams.  Obviously she was safe beneath the glass, but I'm sure it would be unsettling to watch my colossal foot descend towards you and blot out the sky, and doubly so when you can't help but stare at the little wet spot that used to be your brother.

"We can't have little Becky's family abandoning her, can we?" I pushed my foot forward, sliding the glass with the girl beneath across the ground, leaving her to struggle and bounce against the floor and glass a bit.  She'd be bruised but no worse for wear.  "If that happened, I'd have to kill you all and then she'd have to endure the most terrible, extensive and excruciating death, all on her own."

I slid her along in a slow, lazy arc, once she'd gotten close enough to her family.  I wasn't harsh, just pushing the glass enough to knock her off her feet a few more times.  They weren't running, and that was good.  Of course I had their attention now.  "Families love each other, right?  I'm sure you all love little Rebecca here, and I'm sure you know that love means making sacrifices for one another.  So maybe, maybe all of you should turn back around and spend the rest of your lives doing exactly as I say, and then tiny Becks might even get the chance to grow up, or at least see tomorrow."

They did just as I told them.  I think they'd have believed just about anything, especially when the other option was considering me torturing their tiny, innocent girl until there’s nothing left of her.  

"Good.  Good Little specks," I purred, approving this turn of events.  My foot slowly slid off of Rebecca's little glass and settled to the floor behind her, letting the family and their trapped little girl get a good look at one another.  “Now, the lot of you may call me Lucy, or any other appropriate honorific you prefer.  You’re going to introduce yourselves, and do keep dear Rebecca’s situation in mind as you address me.”

I was so wonderfully in control, and if they hadn’t figured that out completely by now they were at least starting to get it.  I stood over them, utterly delighted with their predicament and letting them consider what their last moments would be like.  Finally, the girl took a timid step forward and spoke up.  “My name’s Stacy,” she called out, her voice breaking a bit with either the strain of making herself heard, or perhaps with the emotional distress of having just watched me squish her brother.  Hard to tell.

“Please, don’t hurt my sister, Miss Lucy,” she added after another moment.  I couldn’t help but smile a little to hear her address me with respect, but still, I’d only asked for introductions.  My leg extended just enough for me to bowl her over with my toes, sending her sprawling with a pathetic squeal.

“Cute, but excessive.  You,” I continued, sliding my foot slowly across the ground until my largest toe pointed directly at the mother, less than an inch from her.  She was so small I could only see her face above the curve of my sock, but that was fine enough for me.  “What’s your name?”

She wasn’t nearly as fun, and I could barely hear her murmur “Susan” while staring straight ahead at my toes looming before her.  She seemed empty and lifeless and boring, but I felt at least somewhat confident I could still get a rise out of her before I was done with her family.

“What about dear old daddy?  Your turn to speak up, little thing," I teased while flexing and wriggling my toes a bit, eliciting a little whimper from Susan while I waited.

"Andrew," he growled, his fists clenched in clear and impotent rage.  Obviously he was a bit dissatisfied with his current situation.  They always get so testy when I step on their children.  He stood as defiantly as an inch-tall nothing could, staring up at me and gritting his teeth, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Andy, let's talk," I murmured while lifting my foot and letting it glide across the floor towards him, letting the side of my soft sock smack into his body and send him tumbling across the floor.  "Clearly something's on your mind, but I have something I want to say, too" I continued, planting my heel and letting my foot twist to knock him back to the ground as he started to rise.

"See, you're supposed to protect your family, right?  You're supposed to be the patriarch of this ragged little bunch?"  He was pushing himself back up again, but I slipped my toe beneath his body and flipped him back with a sharp jerk of my foot.  He really flew through the air, at least enough that I was compelled to be a bit impressed with myself.

"But you wanted to run away.  You wanted all of them to run away and leave the smallest and most vulnerable member of your family to fend for herself."  He'd pulled himself up one more time, but I could see his arm hanging limply by his side, and it seemed like he was struggling for breath.  I just meant to kick him around a little, but it was taking a toll on the little maggot.

"That's pretty shitty, Andy, leaving Becky to die like that."  He started screaming something but I raised my foot and gently settled it onto Rebecca's glass.  He got the point, and I smirked with true self-satisfaction.  I pushed her forward, letting her get a better look at her half-broken daddy.

"Go ahead then, Andy.  Don't say a word, don't you dare do a thing but turn your back and run.  Run away and don't look back."  The little girl had been sobbing softly for a while and had her face covered, but at that she did pull her hands away and look up, much to my delight.  He stood and stared, his defiance melting in the eyes of his little girl.  His lips parted, and he made some sort of pathetic mewling sound, but I cut him off once again.

"RUN."

They all winced and cowered under the full force of my voice, and he looked up at me, that useless anger flooding back before he spun around and took off, but I didn't let him go anywhere.

In an instant I had him covered with my toes, pinned to the ground and utterly helpless while his young daughter watched on from the shadow of my raised heel.  "Garbage," I purred, relishing his mad struggles.  "Your father is a useless piece of trash, Rebecca," I murmured, pressing down and eliciting a muffled, anguished cry from beneath my sock.

"No!" Stacy squealed, rushing at my foot as fast as her tiny legs could carry her.  It was such a foolish thing to do, but desperate young girls watching their father squirm beneath my toes are known to do foolish things.  Her mother reached for her, tried to stop her, but she pushed on by, flinging herself into the side of my foot and battering it with her tiny little fists.  "Dad!” she screamed, and maybe he heard her even though he was very busy being stepped on.  “Goddammit, stop it!  STOP, you’re killing him!”

Susan looked on as her daughter pleaded with and shouted at my foot, but she was already so empty and hollow and broken.  I could already tell that it’d be a challenge to get any fun out of her.  First, though, I shifted my weight a touch.  I curled my toes and focused the pressure.  I closed my eyes and tried to make out the desperate, writhing man beneath me.  First there was a crack, and if I felt it I knew the daughter heard it.  My eyes opened slowly, and I watched as she collapsed back onto the ground, gasping in horror while I experienced a few more delicious crunches.

We both knew Daddy was dead, but I still relished slowly twisting my foot and letting her listen to a bit of squelching that I’m sure only she could really hear.  “Yeah.  I killed him,” I purred, lifting my toes and letting her see the gory mess that was a man mere moments ago.  “You next,” I continued, sliding my foot forward and giggling as Stacy vanished beneath it with a faint, almost half-hearted scream.  My eyes shifted to Susan, and finally she seemed to be a bit stirred, her lips parted in horror as her daughter struggled with the underside of my bloody sock.

“You don't really need two daughters, right, Susie?  I mean, sure, you've been raising little Stace here for fifteen, sixteen years, but from what I can tell you've done a kind of shitty job."

My body was surging with an exhilarating energy.  With the remains of her family members plastering the sole of my sock to my foot, I could feel her struggles more clearly than either of the other two.  My eyes shifted to tiny Rebecca in her shot glass, and Susan's followed.  The girl was pressed against the edge, her tiny hands slapping at the smooth glass as she begged her mother to do something, anything to save them.

"Susan, come here," I commanded, though my voice was soft and low.  The woman struggled to tear her eyes away from her youngest and look back to me.  I made no effort to disguise my deep desire, and I was sure she could see my eyes heavy with lust for her little family's death.  Still, she approached, slowly and somberly.

"You have one choice, Susan, and you can make it now.  Do you want to save your little daughter?"  Stacy was sobbing powerfully.  I could feel her little body heave beneath my foot, and I couldn't resist sliding my sole back and forth across her just the faintest bit.

Susan nodded, as timid as she was horrified.  "Then you're going to obey me in every last thing I ask, or else you're going to watch as I squish both of your little girls like tiny bugs beneath my heel.  Now..."

My heel rose slightly, and my foot shifted to position Stacy nicely behind my toes so I could feel her a little better.  "Get down on your knees, and when you're comfortable, start kissing my foot.  You can stop once we're both sure Stacy's good and crushed."

I purred with pleasure, breathing a deep and shuddering breath.  Susan fell to her knees, but she just stared ahead at my cruel and almighty foot poised atop her teenage daughter, listening to the girl whimper and moan.

"Kiss my foot, Susan," I commanded, my voice low and even and stern.  She stared on, lips parted, chest heaving, head shaking slowly back and forth.

"Kiss my foot, Susan," I repeated, my toes flexing and shifting within my sock.  Tears flowed freely from her eyes and she dropped to all fours, retching and spilling something vile from her lips.  I quivered with delight, revelling in my unimpeachable power.

I purred with pleasure, slowing my speech to emphasize each word.  "Kiss my foot, Susan."  With a wail of utter despair, she collapsed across my toes, letting her cracked and dried lips press again and again to the warm and fragrant fabric of my sock.

"Oh god," I moaned, watching her feebly worship my foot even as I started to apply pressure, as I started to squish another member of her family.  I twisted my foot slowly, carrying Susan along with its lethal movements and eliciting a set of screams from little Stacy as her knees crunched and collapsed.  It ticked my sole, and as I felt her pelvis begin to pop and crunch, I whispered to both of them, "Don't stop..."

I paused when I knew the girl was close.  She was half-smashed, her pulverized lower half embedded in the fibers of my sock, but I could still feel her twitching and moving.  Susan clung to my toes, her face buried in my sock and her fists clenching the fabric like she was trying to hide from the moment.  I couldn't allow that.  "Time to say goodybe, Susan," I suggested, my voice dripping with sadistic glee.

She pushed herself up, craning her neck to look once more into my dark, dancing eyes.  "Say goodbye to Stacy.  It's time for her to go squish."

She screamed, something horrible and animal and primal, but I just shrugged and shook my head, spreading my toes and letting a little more of my weight roll forward onto the dying girl.  "Goodbye, Stacy," I murmured as her chest collapsed, tiny ribs popping in a delectable chorus.  "Goodbye, Stace," I sighed again while slowly twisting my foot once, feeling her skull pop beneath it.

"Bye bye," I whispered in a hushed tone while dragging my foot backwards, revealing the wet mess that was all I'd left of Susan's precious daughter.

My chest rose and fell rapidly with my breath.  I was nearly panting by now, but tiny Susan still lay across my toes, muttering incoherently, seemingly apologizing again and again to everyone and no one.  "You're sorry?" I asked of the utterly broken and devastated little woman.

"Don't tell me," I laughed, jerking my foot forward and sending her sliding and skipping across the floor towards the overturned glass that held her last relative.  "Tell Becky here how fucking sorry you are."

In her shattered state, she pretty much did as she was told.  Susan dragged herself up and plastered herself against the glass, gibbering and mewling at her tiny daughter.  Revolting as the display was, it accomplished what I hoped and dragged Rebecca from her foetal position on the ground, getting her attention for what I wanted to do next.

I took a few slow and soft steps towards the two of them, crouching down behind Susan as I let them try and talk for a few moments more.  Eventually, it was time for me to interrupt.  "Rebecca, sweetie, are you okay in there?"

The tiny girl immediately flung herself back against the far edge of the cup, while Susan stared up at me, perplexed my my soft and honeyed tone.  "Shhh, it's okay, nobody's going to hurt you.  Now, did you see all the things I just did?"

Susan shriveled where she stood, the images of her son, her husband, her daughter all being brutally pulverized beneath my foot flooding back to her.  Rebecca, though, bit her lip and fearfully nodded.

"I did it all for you, little one," I whispered with my warmest smile.  Susan gasped, and the little girl shivered and shook her head, but I continued slowly.  "They were awful people, and I had to save you from them.  Aren't daddies supposed to protect their children?"

Rebecca was listening, and I was overjoyed by that.  She slowly nodded.  "Your daddy tried to run away and leave you behind.  That's just unforgivable.  And your siblings are supposed to watch out for you, but Stacy was just jealous of how cute you are, and Michael only ever cared about himself."

Susan was losing it.  She sunk to the ground, she clawed at her face and pushed her fingers through her hair over and over again, groaning to herself.  Rebecca kept her eyes on me.   "And your mommy was the worst.  Did you see how she just watched everything that I did?  How she didn't even try to stop me?"

Rebecca glanced to her mother, seeing an almost unrecognizable mess of a woman, then slowly turned her eyes back to me and gave a cautious nod.

"I bet you saw her kissing my foot, too.  Your mommy is sick, Rebecca.  She's in love with me and in love with my pretty feet.  She liked everything I did, and when I was done she put kisses all over my toes and she begged me to step on you next."

"No!"  The little girl screamed, scrabbling backwards and shaking her head.

"Oh, sweetie!  No, no, you don't have to worry.  I only step on bad people, and you're such a good little girl.  I promise, I'm not going to hurt you, but..."

I turned my eyes to Susan, sitting on the floor with her head down and her knees pulled to her chest, rocking slowly back and forth.  Rebecca's eyes followed mine after a moment.  "I think you know what I have to do next."

The little girl didn't reply, but she kept her eyes open as I reached out and gently plucked her mother up between my fingers.  She resisted, thrashing about somewhat, but with no real aim or idea what she was even doing.  It was easy enough to lay her face-down on the top of Rebecca's little shot glass and keep her held in place with a fingertip until I could raise my foot and settle my gorespattered toes onto her tiny frame.

I couldn't see the Little girl anymore now that she was beneath my foot, but I called out to her all the same.  "This is hard, Rebecca, but I want you to keep your eyes open.  I want you to see what happens to bad people like your mom."

I hoped she'd watch, but it didn't make a difference at this point.  I was too lost in the ecstasy of this moment I'd built towards all afternoon, and nothing could distract me as my sock slid and shifted around atop Susan's helpless body.

"Pathetic," I hissed as I maneuvered the ball of my foot onto her back.

"Revolting," I purred as I braced my hands on the counter, steadying myself so I could relish her death for as long as possible.

"Useless," I moaned as I felt her spine snap and her body start to collapse beneath my beautiful foot.

"Disgusting," I shuddered as her entire being buckled and broke, scrunching and squelching exquisitely for my and my tiny pet's pleasure.  The concave surface kept all of the obliterated woman's mess contained atop it as I twisted my foot into her remains, and every bit of her was smashed against the glass for the little girl to see.

I stood there for a long moment with my foot perched atop that little glass, my body quivering and my thighs and forearms tingling.  Heat coursed through me and I had to wipe a trace of sweat away from my eyes, but after a few moments more I moved my foot, taking a brief second to notice Rebecca on the ground, barely visible through the smeared gore that had been her mother.  She was cringing and curled into a ball, but I couldn't have expected much more than that.

I ignored her as I began to clean up the mess, first stripping off my socks and taking a moment to press the bloody mess on the one's sole to my lips and taste it, as well as savor the sweet fragrance of my feet that I've long loved.  I placed them in the sink with a bit of soapy water, squishing them about to try and minimize the staining, then tore off a paper towel to wipe up the splattered remains of Rebecca's squished little family.

Once they'd been discarded into the trash, I reached down to scoop up the little girl, turning the glass over to let her tumble into the palm of my hand.  I could tell she was exhausted in about every way a Little girl could be.  Even after sliding along the glass and bouncing against my warm flesh, she still shuddered, eyes tightly shut, either unconscious or trying very hard to appear so.

For a moment I was disgusted.  She was a fucking Little, a worthless maggot well on its way to becoming a bothersome housefly.  I shifted my hand, letting her slide along my first two fingers and encouraging her along with my thumb.  My eyes narrowed as I got her in place, pinned between the tips of my fingers and the pad of my thumb.

She was awake now, staring back at me.  I should just squeeze, just push my fingers together and smear her across my skin, then wash her off in the sink and forget the whole thing.

"I crushed your family, Rebecca, just like I've done to dozens and dozens of Little things like you, and you know why?  Because you're worthless, you're tiny, you're helpless.  You steal, crawl, and scrape out a vile existence on the ground."

She was terrified.  Who wouldn't be?  I was a hundred times her size, a split second from squishing her in my grasp, and every trace of the warmth I'd shown her before was gone.  Still, she didn't look away.  She was listening, and I like an audience.

"I'll give you one chance, tiny girl.  You can be worthless like the rest of them, and I'll smash you to a stain right now.  Are you worthless?  You look like it, but maybe it's not too late.  Maybe you can be worth something to me.  Do you want that, tiny Becky?"

Somehow, the horrors she'd seen and the terror gripping her as tightly as my fingers hadn't left her mindless.  I gave her time to respond, and she pulled herself together enough to nod.

"You're already mine, you're completely mine and I can do anything I want with you.  Understand that.  Understand that right now, and when you do, you can start kissing my palm."

I took a deep breath and released her, letting her tiny body slip and slide down along the curves of my fingers.  She wailed a little as she fell, but it wasn't too steep or dangerous.  Quickly enough, she was up on all fours, staring up at the stern goddess far above.

The faintest quirk of an eyebrow was all it took.  She instantly bowed her head and pressed her tiny lips to my smooth, warm flesh again and again and again.  Like I'd thought from the start, she was a rather smart Little girl.

"You're a little animal, Becca.  I'm going to train you like one.  Obedience will earn you rewards, but if you're a difficult pet, I'll end you like a pest."

She didn't break from her obedient efforts, but I could tell that she wouldn't be able to keep it up for long.  Her limbs were quivering and I was reasonably sure I'd made the impression I wanted to, so I figured I could be done with her for a while.

Little Rebecca and I headed back to my bedroom, and it was easy enough to deposit her back in her glass and set it on my bookshelf.  She was pretty worn out, and after the day I'd had, I figured I could use a nap too.  I drifted off to sleep watching her doze fitfully on the hard and unforgiving base of the glass, with the redness of her mother's remains still smeared across the underside beneath her.

Tomorrow I'd find out how much fun having my own trained Little could be.