This choice: Jen is a little sadistic, and makes the little man do what she wants. • Go Back...Chapter #6A much-deserved meal by: Ben   “Hey little guy!” Jen murmurs. “What were you doing down there?”
Relieved that you’ve finally been discovered, you begin to explain what’s happened to you.
“What’s that? I’m sorry, it’s hard to make out what you’re saying down there.” A hint of a grin plays across Jen’s face. You begin to worry, but begin to explain anyway, louder this time.
“You know what? I think you’re just too small to be heard little man! In fact, you’re too small for just about anything. I bet you’d even have trouble surviving out in the great big world without someone bug to protect and provide for you.”
This was getting more and more worrisome. You begin to struggle against Jen’s grip, but her fingers prove more than a match for your meager strength.
“How about this, little man. I’ll keep you with me, feed you and keep you safe. All you have to do in return is anything I say!” Jen is outright beaming now, tickled by the idea of owning a tiny slave guy. You try to escape, but nothing seems to work. You yell your opinion of this arrangement up to her.
“Oh, that’s great!” Jen responds, giggling. “I love it when things work out in everyone’s favor.” With that, she deposits you on the examining table, and quickly follows by thudding her feet into place in front of you.
“For your first duty go ahead and clean my feet, with your tongue of course. This asshole of a doctor decided not to show up so I guess his problem is now yours! Oh, and remember how I told you I’d feed you? Well consider this your first meal!” Jen wiggles her toes, wafting the acrid stench of her unwashed feet toward you.
Jen’s size 15 soles would have been notably large at a normal size. Now, they stood easily more than ten times your height. Her big toe alone was large enough to smother you if she wanted. Seeing no other course of action, you comply.
You start at the heels. The taste of her feet is bitter and salty, given a gritty texture by dirt and flakes of skin. Jen forces you to scrape away and eat the callouses that pepper the heel and ball of her foot, and clear away the film of sweat that plasters her sole. As you finish with the sole, you are even more sickened to realize that you are beginning to feel full.
“Don’t forget the toesies,” giggles Jen from above. She angles her foot down so that her spread toes are accessible to you. The smell worsens, and you begin to cough before getting back to work.
The lumps of dirt and sock lint between her toes are plentiful, and you find yourself having to spelunk deep between her slender toes to finish clearing them out to her satisfaction. The pocket between her pinky and fourth toe is the worst offender, as it harbors a piece of sweatlogged jam bigger than your head. This lump you have to actually bite and chew, giving you time to truly savor the awful, bitter reek.
When the trial is done, you collapse and try to take your mind off of the bursting fullness of your stomach, and the sour aftertaste in your mouth. Your rest is interrupted by Jen’s booming, mocking voice.
“Nu-uh little guy! You’ve still got another pretty foot to clean up!”
She dangles her sole above you, letting you take in al the dirt and sweat. It’s going to be a long day.
When you finally finish with Jen’s other foot, you feel completely immobilized, and about ready to vomit all the disgusting crud you’ve just consumed. Yet even now, Jen refuses to let you rest.
“Oh, did my big feet make the little guy sick? Well here’s another deal for ya. If you don’t splurge all those hard-earned morsels, I’ll keep you alive. If not…splat!” She giggles.
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