Within recent years, to be called man, was to lack rights of any kind. Any man under a foot tall was no longer considered a United States citizen. After the proposal of the now famous Jane Swift the floodgates were finally open to turn what had been to de facto servitude to actual legal and ironclad slavery. Slavery being among the kindest thing that could happen to one. One could very well be made into food and served on a platter. To be a man was to be the dirt of society, not even really part of society, just the trash cast off from it.

 On the opposite end, if one was a woman, opportunities were endless. With the loss of males taking up jobs women swept in to replace them. Unemployment was the lowest it had been in decades. Society was booming as far as the people who mattered were concerned. Namely the big people. You could be the lowest rung on the ladder of women and you’d still be above the biggest man. It certainly kept unrest down and satisfaction at an all-time high. Yes indeed, Dianne Trent was the most beloved president in history.

 A little bell rang as Rachel walked inside the small strip mall establishment, heels clacking loudly as she stepped from concrete to tiled floor. After opening up a successful practice the brunette had found herself well off enough to blow money on appearances, so her friend had recommended this place. Sheer Art Nails. The air was thick with the smell of nail polish and other cosmetics. The salon was quaint but nice enough looking. She was greeted by a friendly receptionist who had her blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail.

 “Hi, welcome to Sheer Art Nails! Do you have an appointment?” She inquired.

 “Yes, should be under Fairchild, Rachel.” The woman responded.

 The thirty some odd brunette watched the blonde thumb through their appointments before the receptionist nodded. “Yep! Right there. Looks like you’re scheduled for the full treatment. Ever had a Three in One before?”

 Rachel lifted a brow. “Not that I recall. Usually just get a pedicure…” She noted.

 The blonde clapped her hands together. “Well! You’re getting more than just a pedicure with the full treatment. If you’ll come with me, Rachel we’ll get you set up!”

 The young woman had a pep to her step and attitude that was indicative of one that enjoyed what they did. Rachel sighed and followed after, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. She sat down in the indicated chair and noted there were a few other women sitting down with their feet in little plastic boxes. They looked as relaxed as could possibly be though Rachel couldn’t see inside the boxes. Her own was empty. Some new kind of lotion perhaps? The woman set her purse down next to her.

 “Right, so go ahead and take off those heels and the stocking and I’ll be right back with you, Rachel!” With that the young woman hopped off to the backroom.

 Rachel sighed and stripped off her heels, setting them next to the plastic box. She took off her stockings and balled them up before stuffing them inside the shoes. With that done she set her feet down in the plastic box, hoping that they washed them between customers. She flexed and curled her toes in the free air, wriggling them slightly. It had been a long day of court and she definitely needed this to unwind. She frowned as she felt something barely perceptible crunch under her big toe, like tiny pebble or something.

 “What the…” She was about to lean down when her receptionist returned.

 The blonde was carrying in her hands two very haggard and bruised looking six inch men. Rachel’s eyes widened as the blonde set them down inside the box, the men looking utterly exhausted. She was starting to get the idea here as the blonde pulled out a box of different types and colors of nail polish for Rachel’s viewing selection. “Right! So what are you looking for today?”

 “Uhhh… black. Also are those…”

“Yep! This here is the first part of your three in one. Starts with the six inchers. They give your feet a lovely massage after a long stressful day before doing the nails. Don’t let looks deceive you; they are great at their jobs! Aren’t you boys?” She pulled her foot from one of her flats, displaying a fresh pedicure of French tips. “See? It’s great! I can pretty much tell you once you have it; you never go back to regular pedicures.” She grinned brightly.

Rachel cleared her throat and looked down at the six inch tall men. One was probably half her age, the other one was right around it. She let a smirk cross her lips as she leaned back in her chair, lifting her aching feet up invitingly. “Well? You need an invitation?” She barked.

 The dark look the peppy blonde sent their way sent the two men scrambling to knead at the knots and stress in Rachel’s feet, their clear exhaustion overridden by self-preservation. The put their backs into it, tiny bodies straining against her feet inside the little box. The brunette sighed as she slumped back in her chair. Now this was a pedicure she could get used to. The two men groaned in discomfort, their muscles probably aching by this part of the day after attending to the feet of so many women.

Rachel curled her toes in pleasure; she had to give the men credit where it was due. They knew *just* where to hit her sore spots. Their tiny fingers glided and pressed and kneaded into soft doughy flesh, releasing any stress Rachel might have had coming in here. Her husband could take a few lessons from these two. They were true credits to their sex. She splayed her toes for a moment before opening her eyes.

 “Right, so nails. Come on, chop chop.” She ordered.

 The blonde took a bottle of black nail polish down as well as a file and presented them to the two men. The older one took the file and his shoulders slumped wearily as he got to work filing the nails of the brunette. His shoulders strained and he had an almost pained look on his face, on the brink of tears as he struggled to file down the nails of the woman. Once he might have been a successful man, now here he was filing down women’s toenails until he collapsed from exhaustion.

 After finishing both of her feet the younger one approached on his knees and started applying the nail polish. He actually started crying. Probably would have been fresh out of high school by now on the way to a bright future. Rachel didn’t particularly care either way. He was a man after all. Men were the lesser sex, thirty some odd years could tell her that. She frowned at him as he slipped a little.

 “Hey! Paint inside the nail, tiny! Lick that up!” She pointed to a barely perceptible spill on her big toe.

 The young man squeaked in fear and looked up at the blonde, who was glaring daggers at the young fool. “You heard her, lick it up. Now.” She growled.

The young man, still sobbing, ran his tongue along the stain of nail polish, gagging as he had to choke it down. Rachel snorted. “Useless men.” She dismissed, adding further to his humiliation.

 Eventually they both finished their work and the blonde picked them up. Rachel was about to stand before she motioned for her to sit down again. “Woah, hold on. That was only part one, Rachel. You wanna get what you paid for yeah?”

 The brunette lifted a brow. There was more? Still she humored the woman and sat back down, admiring her new pedicure with a smile. That had certainly been pleasant. She was going to have to teach her useless husband to do that. Eventually the blonde returned, this time carrying a plastic tin in her hands. She took off the lid and proceeded to dump its contents into the box with her feet still in it. What fell out were eight inch tall men, each one squeaking in pain and looking haggard. They lacked any form of basic human amenities like clothes.

 “Part two, the one inchers get down between your toes and give them a good cleaning.” She chuckled. “This one is my favorite part.”

 Rachel looked down, sure enough the tiny inch tall men scrambled to her massive toes. They squeezed up between the digits and started licking like their lives depended upon it. Knowing the fragility of inchers it probably did. She felt a little nipping and looked over to the blonde quizzically whole giggled.

 “We tend to keep the inchers and below starved, means they’re very eager for whatever meal they can get between our customers toes.” She informed.

 They did indeed seem ravenous, though their humiliation was obvious as they flocked like pigs to the trough to lick whatever grime or dead skin was clinging between her toes. More than a few sobbed and cried though Rachel leaned back and relaxed, letting out a groan of delight. It was such an odd feeling, the wiggling and licking and slight nipping between her toes but it was pleasant.

She curled her toes on reflex, earning a few squeaks below and a couple of cries of pain before she uncurled them. The tiny men rushed back between the pale digits, knowing they had to keep it up if they wanted to keep on living. Plus they had to eat. The grime and sweat between the toes was the only food they ever got. It was the only food they were worthy of being fed, the cast offs of their betters. For them it was hellish. For Rachel it was truly like a deep cleaning massage.

 “Eat up, piggies.” Rachel shared a chuckle with the blonde.

 When they finished Rachel inspected between her toes. “Not bad. So what’s the last one?” She inquired.

 The blonde grinned and collected her inchers, departing for a moment before returning with a little shaker bottle. Almost like a salt shaker. “Hold your feet up please.” She asked.

Rachel did so, bewildered, before the blonde calmly started shaking close over her toes with precision. What fell from them were actual micro sized men. They fell down under Rachel’s toe nails, men so tiny that the brunette hadn’t actually believed they could get that small. Some naturally missed their marks, bouncing off Rachel’s toes and sent screaming down to the plastic box floor below. Now Rachel knew what she’d crushed when she’d first set her feet down. She licked her lips as the blonde finished.

 “Step three, these mircos deep clean under the toenails, eating up all the toejam and dirt that gathered under there.” The blonde stated.

 Rachel could actually feel them under her toenails. Dozens and dozens of micro sized men crawling under her nails like germs. The wept as they got to their knees and started licking and nibbling at whatever they could fine. The faint dirt and toejam gathered under the brunette’s nails was the only food they’d seen in ages and they ate it up, weeping and crying as they did. They were trapped in the vast cavern of Rachel’s toenails. Less than bugs really, no more than little germs.

 Rachel wriggled her toes on reflex, the mere motion sending a number tumbling out from under her toenails and screaming down the vast unending cliff face that was her toes until they smacked down hard into the plastic ground below. Those that survived the fall? Fated to be squished under the feet of whatever woman that next came by looking for a pedicure. The survivors continued their tasks, the brunette smirking as she looked down at her toes.

 “And that’s a Three in One. Hope you enjoyed.” The blonde said.

 A quizzical look was shot her way. “Don’t you remove them?” She asked.

 “Why bother? They’ll fall out from under your nails naturally or just get washed away in your next shower or bath. Easy to apply, easy to remove! You can actually buy a bottle of them for like five hundred bucks on the net. Don’t tell anyone I told you that though.”

 The two women shared a laugh as below men toiled away beneath Rachel’s toenails, their final duty in life to eat the filth from under a woman’s nails.