Mike felt awful, and he had to pull over to the side of the road. The car was also increasingly difficult to steer, and there seemed to be something wrong with his vision, as if everything was starting to do something strange between magnifying and growing more distant. Fortunately, he was able to stop the car and shut it off, before he lost consciousness.

Karen's cell phone rang. It was Mike Hardt. She wondered why he might call. Mike Hardt was the ex-boyfriend of her ex-friend, who had stolen Karen's ex-boyfriend. It was not that she had not liked Mike - they had been casual acquaintances prior to the betrayal on the part of their lovers - but they never really connected either.

"This is Karen?" she answered the phone.

"Karen!" the voice sounded strange - as if it was away from the receiver of the other phone or something.

"Yes? Mike, is that you?"

"Yes it is!" again, it sounded far away. "I need your help!"

She'd finally been convinced to help him. He had sounded desperate, and he'd never done anything to her (or their former lovers) to make her believe that he had anything but good motives. He'd always struck her as a decent guy. She wasn't sure why they'd never been better friends. It was probably just one of those things.

She pulled her car up behind the red Honda Civic by the side of the road. It was his car all right. Karen walked up to the driver's side door, but she didn't see him inside it. What kind of joke was this? She could, however, see his cell phone lying open in the driver's seat along with a shirt. Maybe he had called 9-1-1 and the ambulance had picked him up. He had made it sound like he was having an emergency, even if he hadn't made it clear what he was suffering from.

The driver's side door was unlocked, so she opened it. There was the cell phone, and...

Her eyes bugged out with amazement. There, beside the shirt and the cell phone was a little man - a naked little man. Down on the floor was a pair of pants and shoes.

The little man was Mike alright. He wasn't moving much, and he seemed a bit groggy. She picked him up and looked at him. This seemed to make him somewhat more conscious. He looked up at her, a little dazed.

"Hi Karen... glad you could come," he said.

* * *

She brought him back to her apartment. They would figure out what to do about his car later. Her apartment was pretty Spartan, as she didn't have many things. Before, when she had been living with her then-boyfriend, she had mostly used his things as furnishings. Since then, she hadn't bought much in the way of furniture, just the necessities like a bed and a small dresser.

Mike had fallen unconscious again. She set him down on the bed and got a small shot-glass of water. She imagined that he would want a little water to drink when he became conscious again. She hoped he would - people might not survive this...whatever it was that had happened to him. Her first instinct had been to take him to the Emergency Room, but before he had passed out, he had asked her not to.

He stirred, and opened his eyes.

"Hey, are you alright?" she asked.

He shook his head to shake off some of the grogginess. "Yeah, I suppose... considering. Thank you for coming for me. I didn't have anyone else I could call."

"Yes," he replied. "I don't think they've ever seen anything like this before, and I'm afraid what they might do to me."

"Gotcha." she said. However, she wasn't really sure what she could do with him, either.

"Would you like some water?"

He nodded 'yes', and she helped him with the shot glass. He was about two inches tall, and it was a bit much for him to handle alone. The water seemed to do him good, as he seemed to be a bit more lucid after the drink.

"Wow, this is something else!" he said as he looked around him, at her apartment and her.

"Yeah, I'll say," she replied. "What are you going to do?"

"I honestly don't know," was the only answer he could give.

* * *

There really was not anything they could do. They agreed that taking him to any authorities or medical people was not going to be good for his personal future. A web search on human shrinking only brought them to strange fetish websites, so they remained at a loss for what to do. The best they could think of was to keep on living.

Karen was very nice to him - gave him food, and let him sleep on a folded up shirt on her dresser. They also had made some makeshift clothes for him from pieces of fabric. In a little time they also found out that they actually could really like each other. As such, they really enjoyed one another's company.

One time, however, they found themselves lying in her bed, teasing each other a bit. He had made a bit of an uppity remark, and she was about to give him a comeback line, when she laid still for a moment.

"Hey Mike?" she said with a playful smirk on her face.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"You'd better watch yourself - you're really in no position to piss me off."

She certainly had a point there.

"In fact, let's think about this," she continued. "You're basically my pet."

He thought about it for a moment, and then grinned. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Hey, wait a minute...!" he protested.

"No, let's think about this," she pressed on. "I feed you and I house you, and you don't do anything back for me."

That look on her face was getting ever more mischievous. He, however, looked more serious and dejected:

"That's not fair. There's not a lot that I can do at my size. Besides, I don't eat a lot, and I don't take up much space."

"Oh, but that doesn't matter. If it wasn't for me, you'd be out there, fighting mice and probably losing."

He stood there, not saying anything.

"But, you're not a pet," she acknowledged, "because even if you're small, you're still human."

"Yes," he agreed, hoping that she would stop denigrating him. Being two inches tall and essentially useless was not particularly good for his ego, and she was making him feel even worse.

"So, I think we need to re-think the deal we have."

"What, you're not going to throw me out are you?!" he asked, panicked.

"Oh no, not that - don't worry."

Mike relaxed. Being with Karen had actually been rather nice, all things considered.

"You don't cost me much at all, but that little bit is still everything to you. Without me, you're in pretty deep shit."

Mike nodded. This was no longer a joke to him, and she was still smirking. It made him somewhat uncomfortable.

"So, instead of you being my pet, I think you need to be my slave."

"Huh?"

Mike was really confused now. What did that mean? It's not like he could do her dishes or anything.

"What do you mean?"

*Oh, come on!* Mike thought, *is this about the little tease, earlier?*

Still, he couldn't deny that she was a lot more powerful than him right now. He had better not push his luck.

He looked dejected. "I didn't mean anything by it - I was just teasing."

She smiled, and she didn't have that little mean streak in her eyes anymore. The smile seemed genuine.

"Oh, I know - no harm done."

Mike was relieved.

"But all the same, I think that if you want to stay living here, you need to be my slave."

He looked at her. She was smiling, but she seemed to be talking very matter-of-fact, and it didn't sound like she was joking around. There was also the slight matter that in the past couple weeks that they had been living together, Mike had developed the secret crush that he had had on her for about a year. He was now full-on in love with her.

"Well?" she asked.

He hung his head, got down on both of his little knees and said:

"Yes, Mistress Karen. I will be your slave."

"Good!" she said, as she sat up on the bed.

This was an earthquake for him, as he had been standing on the mattress all that time. However, he had gotten use to that - they frequently watched her television together from the bed, and whenever she went up to the kitchen or the bathroom, the bed had become an earthquake simulator for him.

She picked him up, looked at him, and then set him down by her foot.

"Take off my sock."

Mike looked down at her foot. He was her slave now, so he had to.

*Well, nothing for it, but to do it,* he thought.

It was going to be quite a task for a two-inch man. Karen flipped on the TV and pretended to watch it, while Mike figured out the sock situation.

After about fifteen minutes of heavy work on his part, her foot was bare. She muted the television and looked at his handiwork. She thought that she detected a tiny little bulge in his homemade pants.

"Take off your clothes," she commanded.

Mike, knowing that he was a bit excited and didn't want to show himself looked at her pleadingly.

His excitement had come about during the course of removing the sock. As he had wrestled with the sock, and despite the relatively light smell of her foot (or, perhaps, because of), he had also been rubbing up against the sole of her foot. It had especially been the feel of his whole body against the arch of her foot that made him feel strangely at home and protected. It was as if he was a puny mortal (which he was), and she was his guardian Goddess.

Guardian Goddess or not, however, he was a little ashamed of his base carnal reaction - especially because the length of his carnal reaction could have been not so much as a quarter of an inch to her.

"Take 'em off!" she reiterated.

*Well, I am her slave,* he thought, and so complied.

She could see his little hard-on, and smiled.

"That's what I thought. Well, now I want you to be a good little slave and kiss my bare foot."

He had been standing beside the outer side of her left foot. He leaned over and kissed it. It was the outside of the foot, however, and while kissing her foot felt properly submissive, there was also a relative coldness and lack of intimacy to it, as compared to having his body surrounded by her arch.

She smiled and moved her right, still socked, foot over her leg and put in front of him.

"Now remove the sock from this one," she commanded and turned the television sound on again.

It took him less time to do the second sock, given his experience from the first. As he was working the sock, however, he was thinking about his predicament. Here he was, a naked two-inch tall man, the slave of a young woman, struggling to take off her socks. It wasn't particularly where he had seen his life going last year. However, Karen really was a nice girl, and he had grown to really love her.

There was also something about having her be this powerful over him and submitting to her will that did something to him that he hadn't experienced before. There was a knot in his stomach and it felt very exciting. He was, in fact, relishing being her little slave.

In the middle of the performance of his sock-removal duties, he figured that she would be paying more attention to the television than to what he was doing. Therefore, he took the moment to live into this new sensation that he was experiencing. He leaned into the arch of her foot and gave her a little private kiss.

"Aha!" I knew it!" she exclaimed to his surprise.

He struggled to keep his footing as she moved. She leaned forward, her hand clasping itself around him. A dizzy instant later, he was looking into her face just a few inches (yards) away from his. It was gargantuan, and her eyes were looking both mischievous and predator-like at him. She was smirking again.

She opened her hand, revealing him in his nakedness and excitement. She inspected him for a few moments. He was too stunned to say anything.

"You are getting off on this more than you thought possible!" she said to him.

Then her mouth opened. It was larger than he was, and he would have been able to fit inside there quite easily.

He was scared stiff - in body and penis.

Her tongue slowly snaked up and nudged him in the testicles. She then ran her tongue along the small underside of his manhood. He gazed into the depth of her mouth. As she moved her tongue, she stroked his penis back and forth. The shock and awe of all these combined things - his submission to her feet, her attractiveness at her size, the dangerous gaping mouth in front of him, and the way the huge wet mattress, that was her tongue, felt against his penis - made him orgasm in seconds flat.

She withdrew her tongue and closed her mouth, as he fell backward. She looked at the limp little man in the palm of her hand.

With determined gaze, she looked at him and said: "You're mine."

The exhausted and overwhelmed Mike replied with wide eyes:

"Yes, Goddess. I am yours."