My first full day in shrunken servitude was the first time I slept in this dresser draw I call my-- sorry, HER-- room she's provided for me. I'm at a point now that I'm thankful when my goddess allows me to sleep in here instead of her hamper, or her gym bag.

But the first morning I woke up in there, after watching my belongings get sold away, I was the least bit thankful, waking up to the harsh light of day after a night of screaming and kicking and crying. The bags under my eyes expressed my lethargy to the outside world. Not that I would see the outside world that day.

Natalie was already dressed and ready for work as she pulled me out of the drawer, gently holding me as I struggled and fought her grasp. She plopped me on her bed, hard enough for me to land less than gracefully, but not enough to hurt me. Her pointer and thumb met, and spread out to grow me back to my regular size (give or take a few inches).

I lunged to tackle her, as fighting seemed like my only way to freedom. But as I rose in her bed, my muscles completely relaxed, collapsing me to the ground, even less gracefully than when I landed on the bed. An act of Natalie's full power and control over my being.

"I'm going to be nice, and ignore that," Natalie said, arms crossed, squatting down near my head.

"Fuck... you..." I struggled to say.

Natalie rested her knee on my head, slowly adding her whole weight to my skull. The weight only increased when I realized she was shrinking me. I couldn't fight it. I couldn't struggle. I could only take it.

"You really don't seem to realize the power I have over you. Powers YOU granted me. You did this to yourself."

I struggled between fighting this, or giving in. I feared for my life when I reached three feet in height.

 "Okay!" I was able to let out, "P-p-please! Don't hurt me!"

The shrinking stopped, but her knee remained on my head. The pain stopped increasing as well. I started catching my breath.

"Are you going to cooperate now, Caleb?"

"I'll be good. I'll be good," I pleaded.

My obedience seemed to alleviate some of the pain, as her knee stayed firm upon my head. I didn't realize this right away at the time.

"Please," I begged, "grow me back. I'll listen, I swear." The pain lessened even more.

Natalie paused before standing. She towered over my one foot tall (if you could call it tall) body lying on the ground in my ridiculous pink maid dress. My muscle control returned to me as Natalie's leg stretched forward, presenting her high heeled foot before me. "Kiss my foot to say you're sorry."

I hesitated, quivering on my hands and knees. Possibilities raced in and out of my mind, all subsided by the realization of the power Natalie had over me. She tapped her foot impatiently, so I bowed close, and kissed her foot. I didn't stop, planting kiss after kiss, each one freeing me from the pain she pressed into my head. I felt my body grow as I forced my affection onto the top of her foot. I didn't reach my full height yet, unfortunately.

"Okay," Natalie started as she moved her foot away from me, "that's enough, for now." Natalie strolled to her closet, and pulled out a pink leather collar.

My body told me to fight this, but I knew not to-- the internal conflict causing me to quiver. Where I initially hoped Natalie would help me out of my bad situation with open arms, she did so with an open collar; one that I watched approach me, wrapping and latching around my neck. A padlock would be my dog tag. I started to cry, but Natalie stopped me without even the wave of a hand.

Her fingers pinched together, and spread apart, growing my body to fit into my dress and collar, both uncomfortably snug. "There," she said, proud and matter of fact. I grasped at the collar, hoping to stretch it just a tad, hoping for some easier breathing. This would not be the case.

My hands held my neck as I looked down to realize how short I still stood before Natalie. "I'm... I'm still too short..."

"Hm..." Natalie put a finger to her lip, faking consideration  "No, I think this is perfect." She approached me to check my height compared to hers. The top of my head met the bottom of her hips. "Yeah," she sounded excited and still proud, turning her body to put me face to face with her ass. She bumped it into my head, hard enough to knock me over. Natalie laughed in giddy excitement, "This is perfect. I can't wait to play with you after work."

I stood to my feet, tripping myself on my skirt, then successfully standing, "You're leaving me here?!"

Natalie placed a hand on her hip and chuckled, looking at me up and down, "That, or you're coming to work with me." I blushed at the thought of going out in public dressed as Natalie's two foot tall maid-boy. "You're more than welcome to."

Before she took a breath after her offer, I answered, "No, no, no, no... I'll... I'll stay.”

Natalie pinched my cheek, "Good boy," and strolled out of her bedroom, "Come, now."

I followed Natalie to her foyer, where a list hung by the door. I assumed what this list would be.

"Here's your list of chores for the day. I expect them to be done before I return, as you'll have more work to do this evening. So you'll need all the time in the world." Natalie presented her foot to me again, "Say goodbye."

I knelt down, bowed my head, and kissed her foot. With that, Natalie left for work. I stood in the foyer frozen, listening to her get in her car, and drive away.

I peeked out the window to see that the coast was clear. Two foot maid, or not, I wanted to get the hell out of here. So I bolted for the front door and reached for the handle.

But I couldn't touch it. It wasn't that I couldn't reach it, I literally couldn't touch it. It was like an invisible bubble encompassed the handle. Like two repelling magnets, only stronger. But it felt less like a physical force, and more like a force of my will. This was the case, though I didn't know it then. Natalie's psychic control over me commanded that I do not leave the house. It wasn't even an issue that I couldn't, it was the fact that I wouldn't. I stomped my failure into the ground, throwing a temper tantrum at my situation. Crying and writhing at how trapped and helpless I felt. After what felt like an hour of this, my already fatigued energy gave me no other option. I could keep trying to escape, or comply until I found an open window (be it figurative or literal) to freedom.

So I approached my list of chores for the day, clipped to the key rack by the door. Of course, I was too short to reach it. It hurt and simultaneously amazed me how humiliated I could feel all alone, dressed up in a pretty pink maid's outfit, shrunken down to two feet, pushing and climbing a chair to reach my honey-do list like a child.

I plopped onto the chair and unfolded the list. There wasn't a single open line on this piece of paper, and the tasks ranged from normal to humiliating; do the dishes, make the bed, fold the laundry, cook dinner, vacuum, mop, dust... my least favorite was having to clean and organize her shoes.

This is my first time in Natalie's new place since the break up. It was supposed to be ours after the wedding, but it looks like Natalie took it for herself. A three bedroom two and a half bath home for one woman. One woman... and her slave.

I needed a drink. Something hard preferably, but knew I absolutely needed water. I got up on my chair to reach the faucet, and found-- to my dismay-- the same problem I had with the door knob. I shuddered at the thought of dying at Natalie's hands. Was she really going to starve me? Dehydrate me? She may see me as less than human, but I still have necessities, dammit! My thirst wasn't the biggest issue as of yet though, thankfully. But the fear stuck with me throughout my cleaning that she may keep me from my basic human needs.

My heart sunk when I saw the clock; six and a half hours until she was off work. Maybe it sounds like a lot of time, but when the consequences are unpredictable, it doesn't feel like a lot of time. So I got to work.

I can't say this was the worst part about all this, but it definitely made it worse: I had no idea where anything was. I searched high (as high as I could) and low, looking for mops, brooms, feather duster, cleaning sprays, sponges... shoe polish.

It was the hunt for some sort of shoe cleaning kit that wasted so much of my time this first day. When I opened the walk-in closet door to find a messy, uncared for pile of shoes, I found another note, folded and thrown on top of the pile.

The closet air felt humid, with a strong musky smell to it. I couldn't believe somebody's feet could really be so disgusting-- enough to change the humidity of the room. The stench made me honestly fear what that note had in store for me. At my height, I had to climb the pile to reach the note that I could have bent over to pick up at my normal height. Breath held in, safe from the smell, I grabbed the note and lunged out of the closet for fresh air. 

I unfolded the note to find it less than helpful:

There's a bit of a scent to these I can't seem to get out. Do whatever it takes to make them fresh again.

 "No shit," I said aloud.

I jumped at an unsuspected voice downstairs, "Knock, knock!" It wasn't Natalie. And I knew it wouldn't be long until I had to deal with her mother... Karen.

I was scared to investigate, but suspected that I had to. Obviously, Natalie's at work. Karen's entrance hinted that she knew I was here. After all, she was well aware of Natalie's contract with me, playing her role in selling my property away.

The stairs creaked with my careful steps as I sheepishly peered over the railing to see Karen standing in the foyer.

"Oh there you are," she started, smiling and peppy. "Natalie asked me to come check on you. Come, come. I want to see how you look in your new uniform."

My face beat red, right hand clenching my left arm, I stepped the rest of the way down the stairs, silent.

"Aw, how cute! You make such a pretty girl, Caleb!" Karen put her hands on her lap as she crouched to look at me closer, "Say it. Say you're a pretty girl."

In fear for my safety, I dared not to disrespect the mother of my new goddess, so I obliged; "I-I'm a pretty girl."

Karen chortled, "Now say you're a pretty SISSY girl."

"I'm a..." I blushed more, "I'm a pretty sissy girl."

Karen laughed until tears welled up. "Oh my gosh! That's SO cute!" She took her phone from her purse and pointed the camera at me, "Let me get a picture of you."

Some instict in me pulled this reaction; "No! No, no! Please!"

I held my hands to my face as she snapped, shot after shot, approaching me and literally backing me into a corner. Karen's thick, dry hands grabbed both of mine, and she lifted them in the air, taking the rest of my body with them. I dangled in her grip, so tight and painful, as she pointed the camera, still taking pictures

"Smile," she commanded, short and impatient.

It felt pathetic, but I smiled.

Without letting go, Karen literally dragged me to the living room, where she lounged on the couch. She pointed to the space in front of her, "Here, on your hands and knees."

I obliged. Karen kicked off her black flats and rested her bare feet on my back.

"Eh... too short. Stand up."

I obliged. Karen rested her feet on both my shoulders.

"Too high. On your knees."

I obliged, my shoulders now parallel with the couch. Her thick, dry feet surrounded my head, the soles themselves reaching past my hair.

Ah... just right," she said with a sigh, a smile, and a scroll through our photoshoot, snapping some extra pictures occasionally. When I sulked my head to hide in embarassment, Karen pushed it back up with her big toe under my chin, "Come on, now. Chin up. Stretch your neck a bit, let me see that cute little collar."

I begrudgingly obliged. Karen pinched the lock on my collar between her first and second toe.

"So cute," she said under her breath.

Though I tried to keep my composure, my eyes winced at the scent of Karen's feet. The scent of no socks in flats on a hot day. It wasn't as bad as Natalie, but I could see where Natalie got it from.

Eventually my discomfort was noticeable. Karen chuckled, looking up from her phone, "What? What is it?" She planted her big, meaty foot square on my face, my nose dead center. "Are they smelly?"

I nodded my head, causing an uproar in Karen.  "I'm sorry, sweetie. Here," a force pulled me closer, wedging my shoulders beneath the pits of her knees, clamping me so close in her thick thighs. "Better?"

Better in smell? Yes. But the weight of her legs on my two foot body made me question what was worse. "Y... yeah..." I managed to let out.

"Good. Let me know if you get too uncomfortable."

This was weird. Karen was being so... sweet? Maybe accommodating would be a better word. She was much more understanding than Natalie, but still took advantage of my state.

I peered over at the clock in the corner of my eye. I was nearing crunch time, and still had chores to do. "K-Karen..." I murmured.

"What is it, honey?" she responded, not looking up from her phone.

"I really have to finish my chores before Natalie gets home."

Karen's legs lifted off of my shoulders, "Oh, don't let me keep you."

I let out a deep sigh of relief as I stood, "Thanks."

"Is she working you hard?" she said in such an unnerving fun way.

"Y-yeah," I said scratching the back of my head. Years of knowing this woman suddenly felt like day one again.

"What's she have you on next?" Karen asked.

"I..." it was really embarrassing saying it out loud, especially to another person, "I have to clean Natalie's shoes for her."

Karen rolled her eyes, "Oh, girls and their shoes, am I right?"

I forced a chuckle, "Yeah... I'm not quite sure how she wants it done, though." The thought occured that Karen might know what to use to clean shoes. "You wouldn't happen to know if Natalie has, like, a shoe shine kit or something?"

Karent stood from the couch, "Here-- come with me. I'll show you how to do it." As she started walking, she paused and turned, "Oh, and stay on your knees, please. You'll have to get used to that eventually."

Her patience with me cushioned the embarrassment of remaining on my knees. I'm already two feet tall, am I really expected to stay on my knees for the rest of my life? Nonetheless, I obliged. After all, she's willing to help me.

So I followed Karen to Natalie's room, into her closet. Karen's presence at her normal-person height suddenly made it feel less like a walk in closet. She stood at the open door and motioned for me to, "Go ahead."

I crawled into the closet, approaching the pile. Karen walked in and squatted down next to me.

"So tell me, what seems to be the issue?" she said, putting a comforting hand on my back.

"Well... s-she wants me to clean them. Specifically to get rid of the smell. But... I'm not sure how... like... wouldn't soap and water damage them?"

Karen laughed, "Yeah, don't do that. Ruin a woman's shoes and you're..." she gestured a knife to the throat using her finger, and laughed. I tried to join, but my attempts were obviously fake. "Go ahead and pick up a shoe."

I didn't know where to start. It seemed like Natalie had them all; high heels, open-toed, stilettos, leather boots, suede boots, ankle boots, tennis shoes, slippers, converse, slip ons... I could go on. Where Natalie finds the time to break these in to the point that the smell fills a room is beyond me. I stopped thinking about it and picked. The first one I grabbed being a brown flat, scuffed on the outside, stained with black toe marks on the inside. Like all the others, the shoe was enormous at my size. It could cover my whole torso and some of my face. This was surely going to be a long... draining task.

"So," Karen started, "If you don't have anything to clean with, you gotta work with what you got. Like a good maid."

 "Work with what I got?" I was genuinely confused, and a tad concerned.

Karen nodded her head. I took my skirt and used it to wipe off the shoe. Karen intercepted this, grabbing my hands and separating them, "No, no! You'll dirty up your uniform! Look at me," I obliged, "Go like this," and with that  Karen stuck out her tongue. All the way. Flat.

I didn't even think about it and followed suit... looking back, how quickly I was open to mirror her makes me shudder. But I did. All the way. Flat.

"Good, good," Karen praised, "Now, take the shoe..." my heart was thumping like a workout. Her kindness is what made me so afraid to disobey. That and the respect Natalie had for her mother. No doubt, I'd be in deep shit if I disobeyed her. Karen continued, "... and run it across your tongue."

I did it. I ran the side of the flat across my tongue. I kept telling myself it wasn't so bad, but I knew it would only get worse.

"You got it," Karen said, proud of me. "Now, you HAVE to get in there," she pointed to the blackened insole, "REALLY push your tongue hard up against it. I don't want my daughter walking around with god-knows-what beneath her feet."

I closed my eyes and groaned as I ran my tongue across Natalie's insole. The salty flavor trigged a sensation between stinging and burning. I held my breath as well as I could to hide from the smell. My entire face fit inside of the flat.

"Wow, you really hate this, don't you?" Karen asked, rubbing my back as I continued to debase myself in front of her. I nodded my head yes as she spoke to me in a comforting tone that I can't help but feel is actually meant to mock me, "Yeah... it's dirty isn't it? Oh you poor thing. Poor, poor little maid."

Some part of me silenced the world outside myself. I emerged from the flat, catching my breath, wiping my tears that formed as if I were cutting onions. "Is... is this gonna help the smell?"

"Oh, no, honey," Karen cooed, "You've gotta suck it out."

"Are you serious?" I groaned in an automated response.

Karen took the flat, and grabbed the back of my head-- my whole head, fitting in her palm like a ball.

"No," I whimpered, as I watched the dirty flat inch closer to my face, "No..."

"Oh, stop," Karen said in a chortle, "You'll learn to love it. You're gonna have to."  The world around me started to disappear as the shoe inched closer to my face, invading my vision. "This is what you signed up for," Karen commented, petting my hair. The insole engulfed my face like a mask, "Now let me hear a BIG breath in." I hesitated, but breathed in  "Come on. Come on, now. Deeper." I sucked in harder, wretching as Karen held me there, "Deeper... That's it. You've gotta take in every breath like that if you want to get rid of that smell."

 I let out the deep, burning breath I took in of Natalie's rancid foot funk. All I could say was a pathetic, scared, compliant, "Okay..."

"Again," Karen said, summoning a wimper out of me as I dove my head back in, clutching the worn flat in both of my tiny hands. "Good," Karen praised as she let go of me, letting me filter the scent out without her assistance, "Good girl."

I spent hours on the pile, exhausting my lungs, blackening my tongue. It burned, it stung, it stunk. My only moments of comfort came near the end of each shoe, when I was almost done and could tell the smell was gone, only to have that comfort revoked by the next revolting shoe. At this smaller size, I swear smells are stronger. At the time, I couldn't imagine the hell that is Natalie's foot stench at an inch tall. My thirst grew as my tongue became more and more dry. I resorted to licking the tears that ran down my face for any sort of hydration-- if not the sweat that seeped out of her insoles from the pressure of my tongue, like a sponge.

How and when I passed out is a blur. I really only remember waking up with a shadow cast over me, and her voice, "No dinner?" Natalie scolded, angry, waking me up me up from my unwanted slumber.

I clamored to my hands and feet, back facing the floor, and crab-crawled away from Natalie, trapped between her and the closet. She approached me, squatting down presenting her phone to me. "You're in big trouble," she said as she scrolled through the pictures her mother sent her of me covering my face for a picture, dangling by Karen's grasp refusing to smile, wincing with her feet rested on my shoulders, and a video:

"Wow, you really hate this, don't you?" Karen's voice said in the video of me wincing as I licked the insole of Natalie's dirty brown flat, nodding my head to answer; yes, I really do hate this.

It didn't even dawn on me that Karen never sent her the one picture of me smiling.