It’s strange to think that five years have passed since the Condensing Cataclysm.  Before that fateful day five years ago, I was just a high school student going into college.  I had always wanted to help people, but didn’t have any clear goals or direction.  Then The Small Event happened and 25% of the population shrank down until they were only around two to three inches tall.

Seeing an opportunity to make something of my life, I dedicated my college education to training myself to help the victims of The Small Event to readjust to their new situation and reintegrate into society.  It was difficult, but after four years, I finally graduated with a bachelors in Tiny Care.  I had considered going into further studies, but the need for caretakers was so great, I felt it was my duty to start my career as soon as possible.

That was the day I met Harriet.

At the time, I couldn’t believe how fortunate I had been.  Harriet had been a wealthy businesswoman and well respected in the community.  She had seemed shy and reserved, and was offering to pay me far above my initial as a starter fee.  It seemed almost too good to be true.  It was only after the paperwork had been signed that I learned who Harriet truly was.  She was, bluntly speaking, perverse and perverted.  She saw me not as a human, but as a living sex object to live out her deviant fantasies on.  I was thankful she never seemed to want to discuss her past, because I can only imagine what she was doing to the poor undertrained caretakers that came around near when The Small Event first took place if this is how she treats trained professionals!

I felt a wave of dread wash over me as I entered Harriet’s residence.  No sooner had the door shut behind me than Harriet started barreling over to me.  At the top of her voice, she shouted out to me.

“Good morning, master!”

I always hated it when Harriet insisted on calling me master.  I had heard when tinies first started appearing that some had an almost euphoric obsession with being treated as subhuman.  However, I had certainly never thought I would end up working for one, much less one as obsessed as Harriet.  I had let her know on multiple occasions that it wasn’t okay, but she keeps calling me that anyway.

I was about to correct her, but at this point I couldn’t even muster up the energy to.  Instead, I gave her a disapproving glare.  She seemed to catch onto her mistake, because she backed away and let me enter the living room.

As an important part of the tiny safety protocol, I always remove my shoes when around Harriet, so she doesn’t end up injured in case she’s accidentally stepped on.  Harriet always takes this as an opportunity to start having her way with my feet.  I couldn’t even have my socks anywhere near her without Harriet trying to suck the sweat off them.  Her tongue massages didn’t feel bad necessarily, but I always wished that Harriet would at least ask before she started sucking on my feet.  I wished I didn’t have to remove my shoes at all some days, but I couldn’t live with myself if I allowed a tiny to get injured by my actions.  Even one with as little respect for me as Harriet.

I looked down to check on Harriet and immediately wished I hadn’t.  She was tracing her tongue along every inch of the fabric she could reach.  My sweat was even dripping down her face.  It took everything I had to hide my disgust, and even then I probably didn’t succeed.  I tried to let her finish, but I had finally had enough.  I went to the kitchen both to prepare breakfast and get away from Harriet.

I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I make an absolutely divine french toast.  Harriet enters the kitchen while my back is turned.  When I turn around to bring the french toast to the table, I notice that she’d been staring at my ass the whole time.  She was even drooling!

Following proper protocol, I got a ruler and carefully cut a piece of toast off for Harriet.  Just enough to be filling, but not enough to cause intestinal problems, which is common in smaller variants of tinies like Harriet.

“Thank you for feeding me, master.  Am I really allowed to have this?”

It seemed Harriet was adamant to call me master today.  At this point I was aggravated, but I remembered that with Harriet’s wealth and connections, if I didn’t follow her wishes to the letter, she could use her influence to ruin my career and prevent me from ever helping tinies again.  I forced myself to smile.

“Of course, madam!  After all, it’s my job as your caretaker to make sure you don’t starve!”

I decided to take a small risk.  She knew I didn’t like to be called “master”, but I knew she didn’t like to be called “madam”.  Harriet got quiet after that, so I could only hope that would be the end of the master nonsense for the day.

I was starved, and since I wasn’t allowed off the premises for breaks, I simply had what was left of the french toast.  As I scarfed it down, I noticed Harriet staring at my mouth intently.  I wondered what was up when I got a sinking suspicion that this may be another one of her weird fetishes.  I was already getting harassed by Harriet every other time of the day, I didn’t need to be sexualized while I was eating.

Our eyes locked for a moment.  I knew that I shouldn’t really leave a tiny in a room by herself, but I was going to be sick if I had to deal with her staring at me lustfully while I was trying to have a meal in peace.  I moved what food I have to the living room and ate there while contemplating what a waste my life has become

I realize that she can use her riches and influences to ruin my life, and I realize that all she cares about is satisfying her desires.  I just wish she would look in her heart and try to see things from my point of view.