James Sat in the glass for what seemed like hours. His captor had left quite some time ago and had yet to return. The Sun was near setting and light in the room appeared to be fading fast. His thoughts were all that accompanied him as he contemplated the precarious position, he found himself in. He wondered what was in stall for him.
Soon after, the door to the house was pushed open and the girl entered. She caried with her a basket of supplies, mostly food and necessities. She made her way over to table and putting the basket down she took up a match. Striking the stick, it ignited into flame which she then directed into a waiting lantern. suddenly the wick took the fire and the room very quickly filled with light. She blew out the match before making her way over to the time man.
With her lamp in one hand, she took up the glass in the other, and without a word walked up a nearby set of stairs to the second story of this house. The building was just like the old historic homes he had visited in his time except they were newer. All the walls were fresh and the halls alive with the household items and decorations one might find in a well lived dwelling. Finally, she reached the stairs top and made her way to the first door on her left.
She then placed both James and the lamp down on a nearby set of drawls. From here he had a vantage point of the whole room. The girl made her way across the room and took a seat in an empty carved wooden chair. Her work dress flaring out as she sat. She began pulling up the skirt of the dress revealing she was wearing about 3 or so layers, common for the time but did cause quite a bit of sweat underneath. She bent over and delicately started to undo the laces on her boots, each one she hooked with one of her pale fingers and slowly pulled the lace from its hole on the shoe. She continued until the shoes were lose and then gripping the heel began to pull her foot from its leather prison. The foot emerged and adorned a white fabric stocking. The feet section was a dirty brown colour from being worn all day, sweat from the heat caused the fabric to stick to her skin showing the outline of the foot.
Once the second shoe was off, she stood up and began to undress herself. She lifted off the first layer of her outfit, which just revealed another, lighter dress underneath. She then removed that as well and was wearing what looked like a silk petticoat. Finally, she took that off and was down to her underpants, and outfit which to James' modern eyes still looked like a full body get up. She still wore the stockings, and her hair was tied messily behind her head.
She made her way back to James, her figure swaying with each step, her feet leaving a sweaty print on the hard wood floor with each step. Her whole body seemed to glisten with droplets of her water, understandable on such a warm evening. Her face was pale but flushed with shades of red, yet she still wore a cheeky smirk.
"Ya' know boy, I always did want my own.... personal, slave" her thick southern accent filled the atmosphere as she locked eyes with the glass and slowly made her way over. "My husband hated the idea of slavery; he held those damn Yankee sympathies. But I am a true daughter of the south, and by gods will you have found yourself here at my mercy!"
She stood over the glass now, hands on hips, taking a dominant pose. James was shaking in his glass as he looked up upon this behemoth of a goddess.
"My name, boy, is Virgilia Smith! But to you I am Mrs Smith, or preferably, Mistress!" She let out an evil laugh.
Her hand then bent down and scooped the glass of the tabletop. From there she turned and made her way towards the waiting chair where she again placed him down. Virgilia made her way over to her bedside where sat an empty tea dish and a cup of water. She bought it back and placed the dish on the floor, then poured a little water into it. She then took the glass with James in it and up ended it, causing the little man to fall to the ground, hitting the wood hard. By the time he had recovered himself his mistress was seated.
Virgilia lifted her left foot over her right leg and pulled down the sweaty stocking. Once her foot was free, she dropped the garment of to the side and planted her sole down in front of her tiny Slave. The earth for James shook as though there was an earthquake and a strong wind carrying the sickly smell of sweat and feet washed over him like a strong breeze. The foot was filthy, dirt and grim covered in-between the toes and a strong musk emanated from them. Seconds later the second sole planted itself next to the first and the aroma increased. Suddenly a small cut of cotton fell near James.
"It's been days since I've been able to wash my feet, slave" Her toes wriggled as she spoke, the dirt and sweat moving between them. "Take that cloth and ensure that your Mistress' feet receive the treatment they deserve"
Hesitantly James stood up. He thought of running but knew better than to try. Then reluctantly took the small cotton strap, walked to the water and dunked it in, thoroughly soaking the rag. He then made his way towards the toes of his goddess. Each step brought a strong scent and had it not been so long since he had eaten, he may have puked.
Reaching the toes he pushed the rag up the nail, pushing a layer of grim with it and revealing her shiny toe top. For about an hour she read a book, paying no attention to the tiny at all as he forced his way between the toes, removing hand full of toe jam and wiping away as much dirt as possible.
After a further half hour, the toes of one foot had been thorough cleaned, but that was all he could do in that time. He was exhausted. Her sweat soaked into his clothes; his white coat covered in brown stains from the dirt had been cleaning. Virgilia examined the progress, and a sense of anger drew across her face.
"THIS IS ALL YOU HAVE DONE!!!" She boomed alloud, the sound causing James' ears to ring out. Suddenly her giant foot lifted and within a second descended upon James. he was crushed beneath the toe section; the air being forced from his lungs. His next breath caused him to gag as the intense smell filled him. The toes wrapped around his body, and he was lifted into the air. With a swift flick of her foot James was released and flung across the room, hitting the floor and bruising his body. Before he could even think Virgilia was over him. Laying hurt and battered James look up at her. Her skyscraper height, her baggy bloomers split between the legs revealed he snatch which wore a forest of Firey red pubes that matched her hair colour. An angry scowl across her face.
"You will learn to work, boy..." With that she bent down and picked her slave up, then made her way towards her bed. Rather than climbing into it though, she used her foot to slide something out from under. James was then dropped again, landing in a porcelain prison. The cell was draw but held a sickening aroma, like piss.
"Perhaps a night in the chamber pot will increase your eagerness to work!" Her high pitch laugh echoed through the room as her foot once again slid the pot under the bed, and then she climbed in, ready to sleep.
Deep in the night, James had somehow fallen asleep. Above him Virgilia's eyes narrowly opened. She swung her legs over the bed side and sat, her hands supporting her head.
Suddenly a pleasure built in her bladder, and she sighed with annoyance, then stood up. James's world rocked him awake as he was slid out from under the bed. Virgilia took a squatting position over the chamber pot. She was still mostly asleep and at this point had genuinely forgotten about the tiny slave that had been slumbering below.
James looked and his eyes grew a sense of terror as he saw the girls' bloomers pulled open, and the fiery forest revealed a deep canyon of a pussy. Then with a grunt from high above, a stream of yellow liquid propelled itself from the goddess. The hot wave, hit right next to James and knocked him over, washing him around the pot. The smell of urine was strong, stronger than in the 21st century, most likely due to the difference in diet.
The stream continued and the water rose as James struggled to keep control in the were pool of piss. Then it stopped. And one last rush of waves smashed into him as he was again slid under the bed. Finally, the currents settled, and managing to stand he realised he was now arm pit deep in the piss of a girl that to him probably died a hundred years ago... This was not his night at all.
As for Virgilia, she swung herself back into bed, and without a care in the world for her slave, once more drifted to sleep, leaving him in a world of her steaming yellow juice.