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The sound of the front door closing signaled the lady of the house's arrival, and Zara's heartbeat quickened in turn. Standing in the threshold to the bedroom, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves and called out. "Miss Killian?"

 

The rhythmic clack-clack of high heels against stone stopped. "Yes?"

 

"Could you come up here a moment, Mistress?" With any luck, this would be one of the last times she'd have to use that word. "There's something urgent I need to show you."

 

With a heavy sigh, the Killian matriarch turned and began ascending the stairs towards her own bedroom, heeding the call of her maid. In the back of her mind she knew it was odd that Zara hadn't made herself available, instead requesting Katherine's presence, but she didn't dwell for too long on it. When she entered her bedroom, her maid was standing against the far wall, arms folded across her chest.

 

"Well?" Katherine asked, raising an eyebrow. The twenty-year-old maid was barely more than a servant, and it irritated some primal part of Katherine that she had to prompt the girl to speak.

 

Zara waved one arm towards the bed, drawing her employer's gaze. Strewn across the silk sheets (900 thread count, of course,) were dozens of photos of Katherine with her extra-marital lover, Lorenzo.

 

It was her turn to have her pulse quicken.

 

"...What is this?" she asked at last, determined to maintain her composure. Zara grinned and stepped forward. She looked ridiculous in her low-cut, sexed-up french maid outfit, but her leverage was so overwhelming that she could have been wearing bunny ears to match and still felt superior.

 

"This is you losing control over me. You want to keep your life, right? The maids? The money? The men?" She shot a look towards the bed. "Answer me, Katherine."

 

"You don't-" Flustered, Katherine glanced around the room, her mind made up. It had hardly been a question, really. Once she'd understood what was happening, she came to terms with the fact that the maid would have to die. It was just a matter of figuring out how.

 

"Don't what?" Zara filled in the silence. "Don't speak to you like that? Hah! I can do whatever I want now, Katherine, because between the two of us, I'm not the dumb slut who signed a pre-nup before sleeping around on her well-to-do husband!"

 

"You dare!" Katherine hissed, moving across the room in what seemed to Zara as one impossibly long stride. She lashed out, catching the younger girl across the jaw with a practiced backhand. Zara twirled and collapsed, clipping the side of her head against the foot of the bed.

 

Katherine knew exactly what she was going to do with the girl. She moved to the dresser, withdrawing a small key nestled in her cleavage, and unlocked the top drawer, the drawer even the housemaid had never had access to. The drawer with something special, a gift from her husband.

 

"I don't know how you got those pictures, little Zara," Katherine said as she turned to face the injured young woman. A silver cylinder lay against her slender fingers. "And I know, I know, this is the part where you tell me you made backups. A safety deposit box somewhere, or perhaps you just left them with an accomplice alongside instructions to release the photos should you fail to check in." She stood over her former employee, placing her right foot between the girl's breasts to keep her pinned to the ground as she leveled the cylinder at her head. "Unfortunately for you, we'll be spending a great deal of time together in the coming days, and you're going to reveal every aspect of your little plan, whether you want to or not."

 

"N-no..." Zara whimpered, clutching her Mistress' leg desperately. "What is that...?"

 

"Oh, this?" Katherine said, chuckling. "This is what's going to kill y-HEY!" The maid lashed out with a surprisingly acrobatic display, kicking at Katherine's wrist. The cylinder fell from her fingers, and Zara caught it in midair, turning it on the other woman. "Hey - hey now, Zara, don't do anything rash," she warned.

 

"Fuck off." Zara depressed the small button on the side, and in a soft blue flash her employer disappeared, taking the oppressive force of her stance with her. The maid pressed her free hand to her chest, taking the first deep, satisfying breaths she'd had in moments. Slowly, she became aware of a soft tickling sensation coming from her belly, just under her navel. Curious, she lifted up the hem of her shirt.

 

Standing on her pale flesh was her employer in miniature. Now no more than two inches tall, the formerly intimidating woman looked like a well-crafted doll. She squeaked and stomped in protest, shaking her fist up at the relatively gigantic maid, who covered her mouth in a deep, self-satisfied giggle.

 

"Oh, this is rich. This is too rich," she said aloud, smirking down at Katherine. "This is what you were going to do to me, wasn't it? Turn me into some little doll for you to torture and dispose of? Hmm?" She reached out and flicked the little woman, giggling again as she fell on her ass. "How devious of you, 'Mistress'."

 

"D... d-don't you touch me!" Katherine howled, gesturing wildly towards the giantess. "Nothing's changed! You're still low-class trash! My husband will never side with you over me!"

 

Zara's eyebrows angled upwards, looking down on her new toy with pity. "Oh, honey. Your husband has already sided with me, multiple times. In the very bed the two of you share, no less. And the same bed you and that tall, muscly Spanish guy share sometimes, too." She reached out and picked up the little woman between her forefinger and thumb, marveling at the tiny legs that pathetically kicked out into empty air.

 

"Hypocrite!" Katherine shrieked, her voice wild with desperation. "Homewrecker! Harlot! Slutty fucking cunt of a maid! Nobody will believe you! Nobody will listen to you! I'll buy your family's lives and execute them for a fucking laugh!"

 

"Tch, tch, tch," Zara said, shaking her head. "That's not very nice to say. Now, I'm not going to demand an apology - largely because I don't expect I could get one out of you - so I'm just going to skip straight to the punishment, okay?" She brought the tiny woman forward, pressing her against the exposed flesh of her chest. With one hand, Zara restrained Katherine's body to little more than simple wriggling, and with the pinky finger of the other she firmly pressed the tiny woman's face into her breast.

 

"Don't you dare! Don't you goddamn DA-mmmmmmmmmm!" Indignant little grunts came from the tiny captive as her whole body rocked back and forth, bucking against her phalangical restraints. The red-headed maid grinned and pressed her head deeper into her breast.

 

"I wonder if I could pop your little skull. Did you think of that, Katherine?" she asked teasingly. "I might be able to press so hard that everything that gives you consciousness splatters against my tit in one tiny crunch. Pretty embarrassing, wouldn't you think?"

 

"Mmmm!" came the only reply, the tiny woman not hearing - or, perhaps in her panicked state, simply not comprehending - the bigger girl's threat. The air in her lungs was limited, and she was pressed so firmly against Zara's breast that she was already feeling the energy slipping out of her limbs, and her will to fight ebbing away, surrendering to Zara's immeasurable advantage.

 

"No, you're right. It would be a fitting end, sure, but it wouldn't be much fun, would it?" She lifted her finger, allowing her toy to gasp in a few desperate gulps of air. Katherine almost thought she should leave her face where it was and let herself smother to death; surely, she reasoned, it would be more humane than whatever the tartlet had in store for her. In spite of her reasoning, she drew breath, as is human nature.

 

"Don't... don't show my husband... those photos."

 

"Oh, I'm sorry little one." Zara put a hand to her chest, feigning a shocked expression. "Did I give you the impression that you get a say in what happens from now on?"

 

"You stupid gir-"

 

"Well allow me to enlighten you, my dear." Zara's voice dripped with smug condescension, and she gently stroked Katherine's head as though she were a hamster. "You've lost any say in how your life turns out from now on. You're nothing more than a toy now, do you understand me?"

 

"I will not be trea-"

 

"Of course, I'm not a cold-hearted woman. If you truly, deep down cannot accept your new place in life, I will of course mercy kill you. Like an animal." She smiled and winked. "So what'll it be, Katherine? Should we call it quits right now?"

 

The shrunken woman paled. "...You can't be serious."

 

"Ah-ah. I am serious, and if the next words out of your mouth aren't, 'Yes, I understand' or 'No, I don't', well... you're going to find the next few moments very unpleasant."

 

"Y... Yes, I understand." Katherine was a little sicked with how quickly she obeyed her maid. It had taken little from Zara to gain the upper hand on her, and it had taken even less to bend Katherine to her will. "Don't execute me."

 

"Ask. No, wait - beg."

 

Katherine grimaced. "P-please don't execute me, Zara."

 

The twenty-year-old giggled. "Mmm, the name won't do. Call me Mistress."

 

"...Mistress, please." Katherine's pleaded with as much emotion as she could muster. She just had to swallow her pride long enough for her husband to get home; he would deal with this uppity little slut.

 

"What a good girl you are! Yes you are! In fact, you're such a good girl, I'm going to let you cuddle up to your new best friend!" Without giving the smaller girl time to think, she cupped the tiny form and slid her hand underneath her bra, depositing her payload against the underside of her breast. "Aww, I can feel you giving it a hug! How sweet!" Zara stood and began gathering up the photos off the bed, then got right back to work with her household duties, enjoying the wriggling sensation against her chest.

 

Pinned spread-eagle against the massive breast, Katherine found herself at once humiliated, infuriated, and aroused; it was this last emotion which confused her. She knew she was attracted to power - it was what had drawn her to her husband, even so long ago. He was confident and charismatic, from a well-off family, and his future seemed as bright as his lineage. Part of it had been gold-digging, certainly, but she would have been lying to herself to pretend as though part of her wasn't taken in by his authority.

 

Be that as it was, however, she had never once fantasized about her lowly maid. Until recently, the very idea that Zara could effectively wield any sort of control was laughable. She was a young, inexperienced girl who had only ever had the one job, serving Katherine and her husband. She was pretty, and Katherine's husband dolled her up in aesthetically pleasing outfits, but at the end of the day she commanded as much respect as a household appliance: as long as she did what was expected of her, she would keep her right to exist.

 

But now that the once-matriarch was squirming like a bug underneath the breast of a girl younger, bigger, and wholly in control of her, she found herself becoming excited by the idea of serving. She did her best to banish the thoughts from her mind, letting her other, spiteful emotions flourish, but she couldn't quite put a stop to the feelings altogether.

 

Time passed slowly underneath Zara's breast. The girl's rhythmic motions of cleaning had a hypnotic effect on her tiny passenger, the gentle swaying of her breasts rocking the little girl to sleep, especially in lieu of anything else to do. When she felt herself falling unconscious she twitched, let out a soft plea in the form of a pitiful moan, and succumbed to unconsciousness.

 

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