The weeks after his submission were different than before. Every night, she had him remove her socks and kiss her feet. She would then set him on her bare belly and they would have dinner together, she giving him a bit of her food. After television or reading, she would curl up, and he would lie next to her, wherever he figured he was not in danger of her rolling over onto him. He no longer had to sleep on the dresser. He could be close to her and he could bask in the actual joy that being her slave gave him. She really was very kind and gentle to him, and given the erotic excitement of being her slave, it was hardly a price to pay.

One night, however, she took a shower after coming home from work. In her life outside of her personal realm in her apartment, she was a veterinary technician. Usually, when she came home, she simply plopped down on her bed and made Mike do her feet. Her taking a shower was a little out of the ordinary, as she usually bathed in the mornings, instead. Mike sat on the bed, awaiting her.

When she came out of the bathroom, she looked at him with her mischievous/predator-like gaze. This meant that she had thought about something to do with him. It always made him apprehensive when she looked that way, but he trusted her completely. He also noticed that she was completely in the nude. That was something she rarely did - she normally changed clothes in the bathroom out of his sight. He wondered what it meant.

He wasn't given long to wait, as she snatched him up before plopping herself on the bed. She sat her back against the headboard, and held him in front of her face.

"Slave!" she said.

"Yes, Goddess?" he replied.

This had become a familiar way of addressing one another. They both rather enjoyed it, now.

"I really do love you," she declared with a smile.

"And I worship you," he said with conviction in his voice. This was something new. Despite the carnal act she had done to him that first night of his slavery, she had actually never said that she loved him. She had merely played with him, and he had loved and worshiped her a great deal.

"I know you do," she said.

She then kissed him on the face. Her lips were very big to him. One of her lips was as thick as three times his head, and this was not because she had extraordinarily large lips. In fact, in proportion to her face, they were relatively thin. Nevertheless, her lips enveloped his face with her kiss, and even her tongue darted out for a moment to lick him.

She then pulled him away again and smiled at him, winking.

He was being held up by his armpits, with her pointer finger under one, and her thumb under another. Holding him steady she turned herself toward the little college-dorm refrigerator that was beside the bed. From it, she pulled a wine cooler and popped its cap off. She winked at him again, as she set him down on her bare chest - below her neck, but above her breasts.

"I've had a bad day at work, and I want you to make up for it," She told him.

He nodded - that is what he was for, after all. His living was to serve her.

"I want you to get down on your knees..."

He did so.

"...and kiss my skin."

He did so.

"Now, I want to crawl a little backward, and do the same thing."

Facing her, he crawled a little further down her chest, and kissed it again.

"Good - you got the idea. Now I want you to keep going, but not necessarily in a straight line downward."

*Oh, this is new,* Mike thought. *I wonder where I'll end up.*

He did as he was told, and worshipped her skin, ever lower down her body. As he did so, she took a swig of her wine cooler. He could feel the reverberation of the liquid that she was swallowing. That was quite powerful to him - kissing her chest, and both feeling and hearing a gush of liquid not far below him, inside of her, moving down into her more deeply still.

He made his way to both of her breasts, making sure to do them both good service, and then he went down further. Her gulps of wine cooler took on different feelings as he moved further away from her throat and toward the abdomen. It felt very worshipful to do this and he was certain that she was enjoying it as much as he was. When he made it to her belly button, he took a moment to put his ear against her stomach. He wanted to hear the sounds within. He heard a few gurgles, but then she spoke up:

"Keep going downward."

He noticed a certain quality in her eyes. They were a little bloodshot, and her face was flushed. He guessed (correctly) that she had not had much to eat, and the wine cooler had gone straight into her bloodstream. He certainly did not dare disobey. He also knew where this was headed. It was going to be a heady evening.

It wasn't long, then, before he was at the place where to go any further, he would have to choose either to do down one of the two legs, or climb down in between them. As her slave, he figured, it would not behoove him to take luscious liberties, and so he opted for the left leg, whose foot it had been that he first kissed. As he made his way toward the leg, her hand came up and pushed him a little toward her center. He smiled and knew what his duty was to be.

There was a massive earthquake, however, as she pushed her pelvis upward, allowing her back to slide down so that she was lying flat on her back. After the momentary earthquake, he resumed his course toward her ladyship. She was growing pungent with desire.

He then knew why she had taken the shower. That was most kind. It also meant that while a little pungent, this was quite bearable. He climbed his way down and began wrestling with her labia. This pleased her mightily, as he could feel her tense up. He kept on working at it, however. He worked his hands inside her, for her pleasure, and then when the moment felt right, also his face.

What he hadn't expected when he did this, however, was that she was going to make the most of it. He felt her grab his legs and push him deeper into her.

Mike was completely inside of her. Breathing was very difficult and he instinctively struggled. Karen really enjoyed that. Little Mike had been a whole, six foot-tall, man once, and now he was only two inches, her devoted slave, and presently even pleasuring her deep inside.

This was the existence she wanted - absolute power over others! She closed her eyes and imagined herself the size of a Goddess to all people. She would have humanity down at her feet, doing her bidding.

Inside of her, Mike was having an entirely different feeling. He was completely powerless, completely enveloped by hot moist flesh. She was having her omnipotent way with him, and he wholly accepted it. He moved his body in such a way that he thought would pleasure her.

This is what he had been made to do. He was convinced of it that his shrinking had been no accident; it had been an intervention of destiny to make him her property. Being completely inside her body also accentuated that feeling - she was his entire environment. Everything he was was now within her body.

Her power over him was complete, and her exercise of that power manhandled him to and fro. What had begun as a gentle but firm thrust into her, was now growing more vigorous. Before long, his strokes through her flesh became more violent, as she fiercely shoved him around for her carnal pleasure. As the ferocity of her manhandling reached a crescendo, he was at the edge of his stamina.

The thought of Mike - another human, one being completely inside her, belonging to her, and existing for her pleasure - sent her over the climax that she had been wanting. She felt her walls completely swollen with excited blood squeeze in on him, doubtlessly suffocating him. Whatever discomfort he felt, however, was worth it for her pleasure. That's what being a Goddess and slave couple meant. He existed to serve her pleasure.

She hoped that she hadn't damaged him that much in her pleasure, but the wonderful feeling she had just had was worth the risk.

After she pulled him out, she saw that he was unconscious, but still alive. When he awoke, the lights were out, and he had been placed by her sleeping side. He curled himself around and fell asleep.