“How long is a very long time?” Holly asks quiveringly as she looks out over Susan, who shrugs her gigantic shoulders.

“Until you die, or I die of old age, I’ve told you, the rest of your life.” Susan explains.

“No...please...there must be some kind of arrangement we can-” Holly trembles as she is cut off by Susan’s laughter.  

“No, please!” Susan mocks before cackling.  “You have to hear your itty bitty voice, it is simply precious!” The giant woman says as she turns back to her screen.  Holly swallows hard, trying to force back her tears as her face burns and a lump forms in her tiny throat.  She looks out of the cage, her face contorted by pure worry.  After a few moments she turns her back on Susan and slides down the bars, allowing her bare rear to sit against the cool metal.  

Holly can hold it in no longer, she lets loose a torrent of tears, cupping her hands over her face as her body is wracked with pure, uncut greif.

“Hush little baby don’t say a word, Susan turned you into a little songbird, and if you do not feel the need to sing, Susan is gonna turn you into a stain.” Susan sings quietly as the tiny girl sobs within the confines of the cage.  Holly slowly stands up, and turns around, her eyes beet red and her hands trembling.

“You can’t do this to me.” She says quietly at first.

“You can’t do this to me!” Holly shouts at the top of her lungs, banging her palms against the cage again and again.  “You can’t do this to me!” She repeats, her voice cracking as she continues to bang helplessly on the bars in front of her.  Susan looks over and raises an eyebrow, standing up and slowly walking to the cage.  She bends down so that her huge, slightly freckled face is filling Holly’s vision.

“Oh but I can, and I have, how does it feel knowing that someone owns your very life?” Susan taunts as she grasps the cage in both hands, her left hand sliding towards the cage door and slowly opening it.  

“You don’t own me!” Holly shouts, gritting her teeth and balling her tiny hands into little fists.

“Oh I most certainly do, and no matter how much you scream, cry, and throw your little spoiled hissy fits, there is nothing you can do about it.  You like that? Hmm? There is nothing you can do, you are helpless, trapped, I can kill you and go about my day as if nothing happened.” Susan explains as she pinches one of the girls tiny arms between her massive thumb and index finger.  

Before Holly can respond she finds herself being lifted into the air, painfully by her left arm, her whole limb completely smothered by Susan’s warm, fragrant fingertip flesh.  

“In fact…” Susan says coolly as she lifts Holly’s thrashing form up to her face, her huge smile growing wider as Holly attempts to reach upwards with her free arm to dislodge her trapped one.

“No, please don’t kill me! Oh my god! Please don’t! You own me! You own me!” Holly pleads desperately as she is carried over to the desk, her shoulder on fire, and her arm stinging as she kicks her tiny feet in the air.   

“I don’t think you get it, I think you still believe you are Holly Bryant, that you are still rich…” Susan continues as she sits down.  Holly looks downwards, the top of the desk sits beneath her, at least a good fifteen feet past the bottom of her tiny toes. The little girl looks back up at her clamped arm, and then at the huge freckled face before her.  Without warning Susan’s lips smother Holly’s field of vision and a huge gust of hot wind slams into the tiny girl, causing her to sway in every direction, like a wind chime caught in a stiff summer breeze.  Holly cycles her legs and shrieks.  “No!” She gasps, trying to regain her breath from the sudden assault.  “I’m not! I’m a bird! I’m your bird!” Holly screams.

“I’m going to knock the rich right out of you my little songbird.” Susan says in a serious tone as she lowers Holly gently to the desk.  The tiny girl stumbles a bit, and grips her left arm with her right, tears of pure adrenaline streaming down her reddened face.

“On your knees. Now!” Susan barks, Holly wastes no time in obeying, falling to her knees and looking towards the huge pink wall that is Susan’s impossibly large midsection.  She slowly cranes her tiny head upwards, towards the woman’s sizable breasts, which appear as one smooth lump beneath the thick bathrobe. She continues lifting her eyes to her face, which sits impossibly far away and appears small from Holly’s perspective.

“Ok, just don’t hurt me!” Holly whines.  Susan’s hand comes down against the desk, one of her huge fingers curled down and held atop her massive thumb. Holly’s little eyes go wide, but before she can react, the huge fingernail is barreling towards her.  There is no time to scream, or even move her tiny arms to shield herself, the fingernail makes contact, slamming into her entire upper body and sending her airborne.  Holly rolls end over end on the desk, spots dancing before her little eyes as she writhes on the smooth, deep red wood of the desktop. Susan’s laughter swirls around Holly, as if she were a villain from some children’s movie. The tiny girl didn’t need to think hard about the fact that the woman was enjoying her pain and suffering. “Ungh” Holly moans miserably as she curls into a tiny ball.

“Stand up.” Susan commands.  Holly slowly unfurls herself, her chest on fire as she places her tiny hands on the smooth surface of the desk.  She climbs to her hands and knees, and then her feet.  She looks down at her chest, a huge red imprint of Susan’s massive fingernail is plastered across her fair skin.

“What was your cooks name?” Susan asks.

“Bruce…” The tiny girl says, her head bowed, her hair splayed this way and that, erratically.

“And why didn’t you thank him?” Susan asks, leaning on her elbows over the tiny girl.

“I don’t know.” Holly cries.

“Sure you do, and you are going to tell me.” Susan grins as she lowers her right hand, her index finger ready to knock Holly across the surface of the desk once again.  Holly holds her hands out in front of her, backpedaling  “No, please don’t! That hurt so bad!” The tiny girl whines.

“Tell me.” Susan commands.

“He’s...he’s a servant.” The tiny girl stammers as she continues to backpedal. Holly shrieks as the finger springs forth, knocking her across the surface of the desk once more.  She lands on her face, her tiny buttocks hanging comically in the air.

“Oh...god…” Holly reels, blinking and slowly pulling herself to her hands and knees once again.

“Does he get paid?” Susan asks calmly.

“Yes.” The tiny girl pants.

“And yet you view him as a slave…” Susan says as Holly feels a huge pressure on top of her, which forces her flat against the desk.

“No I don’t!” Holly shrieks.

“Stop telling me what you think I want to hear, it’s not going to save you either way.  Honesty is your only salvation.” Susan says.

“Ok, I think of him like… like an appliance.” Holly pants, “I always have.” The tiny girl admits.

“Have you ever given thought to why he is there? Think hard little one, your life might depend on your answer.” Susan grins.

“No, I haven’t, frankly I never cared enough about him to even give him a second glance.” Holly hesitantly admits.

“How long has he been working for your parents?” Susan asks.

“Since I can remember.” Holly replies

“So…” Susan begins, moving her fingertip to Holly’s head and pressing it roughly into the desk.

“No! No! please! You're crushing meee!” The tiny girl begs, her tiny hands uselessly reaching behind her in an attempt to dislodge the finger from her skull.

“He’s been cooking your meals all of your life, and you’ve been looking down your nose at him the entire time.  He’s watched you grow up, from a little baby to a spoiled brat of a young woman, poor guy…” Susan sighs as she rolls her finger back and forth across Holly’s skull, causing her to scream in terror and agony.

“I’m sorry!” Holly sobs.

“It’s too late to be sorry now my little songbird, he’s never going to see you again.  Either is your mother, or your father, or any of your friends.” Susan taunts as she releases the tiny girl’s head from beneath her finger.  Holly climbs to her knees and grips her head between her little hands, sucking air through her teeth.  

“Have you ever worked a day in your life?” Susan asks, folding her hands together in front of Holly and glaring down on her.

“I went...I went to school.” Holly stammers through her tears.  “My parents have hundreds of millions of dollars, why would I need to work?” The tiny girl says, genuine confusion in her tone.

“Mmmhmm.” Susan says as she opens a desk drawer, pulling out a huge bottle of some kind lotion.  “Working builds character, discipline, self esteem, has your mother or father ever pushed you to get a job?” Susan asks as she pulls a small blue bottle of nail polish from the desk drawer, placing it near the towering bottle of lotion.

“Yes… They wanted me to flip burgers one summer.” Holly admits, composing herself and glaring upwards at the bottles off to her right.  

“And let me guess…” Susan smirks.

“I screamed at my mother, for an hour, told her I didn’t want to be anywhere near the trash that worked there.” Holly breaks down sobbing again.

“You are a horrible person little Holly Bryant.” Susan says calmly.

“No…” The tiny girl whimpers through her tears, shaking her head back and forth.

“Yes you are...but that is O.K.” Susan coos down on the sobbing girl, extending her fingertip and petting her tiny head gently.  Holly tries to shrink away, but finds the fingertip impossible to avoid.  

“You have the rest of your life to feel what every ‘working class’ person on the planet feels everyday… Because I am going to slave you raw.” Susan snaps, her tone carrying a hint of venom.  Susan grabs a tissue from behind Holly and places it beneath the nozzle on the huge bottle of lotion.  She pumps the lotion twice, allowing the viscous liquid to pile onto the paper before placing it in front of Holly.  The little girl looks on, shuddering, her tiny body trembling.

“And like everyone else…” Susan begins, leaning back in her chair and raising her left foot into the air.  The gigantic heel of the foot comes crashing down directly in front of the frightened girl, causing her to fall backwards.  Holly slowly follows the huge heel up towards Susan’s wrinkled sole.  some of the folds on Susan’s gigantic foot were large enough to accept Holly’s entire body. The minuscule girl’s wide eyes continue skyward, towards the expansive arch, and higher still to the ball and toes, which wiggle playfully high overhead.

“You can start at the bottom.” Susan giggles.