Jasmine rested in her bed, eyes closed but awake. She thought of the women in her drawer, the ones she'd broken mentally; and she thought of the women she'd discarded, the ones she'd broken physically. She smiled softly to herself as she remembered various executions. It had been a while since she'd killed anyone. She didn't like to go through them quickly because she didn't want the disappearances being linked. But it had been a few months, she thought she was due for another kill.

She wondered how she should do it. She liked each death to be unique. It made them more memorable for her, easier to go back and replay in her mind when she felt the urge to kill again. The memories helped sate her bloodlust, for a time. She rolled onto her side and reached over, haphazardly pulling the drawer open in stuttered jerks. She heard cries of surprise come from inside. She stuck her hand in, palm facing off to the side. "Heather." She said simply. A moment later she felt a small warmth press against her palm. She curled her fingers and lifted the girl from the drawer, sliding it shut. She lifted her hand over her face, and was mildly pleased to see the one she'd ordered had given herself to Jasmine.

"I'm so pleased that you're learning to obey." She said, gently stroking the small girl's hair. Heather and Jasmine had once been friends, but Heather had accidentally come across her collection, and been less than okay with it. Since then, Jasmine had been training her to be completely servile. She decided to test her pet's loyalty. "Go down and lick my feet, hon." She set Heather down beneath the covers. Heather walked beside the leg, keeping a hand on it as she was trained to do, so Jasmine would know where she was. She reached the foot, and could feel the warmth radiating off of it, nearly stifling her. The scent was mild, and Heather felt this would actually be one of the more pleasant experiences - for a degrading act, of course.

Heather pressed her tiny body against the sole and started dragging her tongue across the rough skin. The taste was mild, nothing she wasn't used to by now. Even more surprising to her was the fact that she barely felt the sting of humiliation anymore. In the past two months, she'd gone from a proud individual to a devoted pet. It was just easier that way. Standing up to Jasmine never did anybody any good, and from what Heather had heard, occasionally women were taken from the drawer and never returned. She had made it a mission to not become one of those women.

"That's good, little Heather." Jasmine said, smiling. She slid her feet together, relishing the tiny quail from her pet as she was pushed along the bed, coming to rest pressed between Jasmine's feet. "Keep going." Jasmine commanded, and she felt the tiny tongue against her skin again. She let Heather lick her feet for several minutes, delighted that the tiny lady sought out new patches of skin to lick after properly servicing the previous one. Eventually, she reached down and plucked Heather up.

"You've become quite the loyal devotee, Heather." She said, once again petting the smaller woman's head. "I'm sure the other ladies have told you about the women who disappear, right?" Heather nodded. "Well you'll be excited to know that you're about to become one of them!" She watched her pet's face for a reaction. Heather looked at her tentatively, almost believing at first that it was a joke.

"I'm... sorry?" Heather asked, shaking her head slightly.

"Oh, no need to be!" Jasmine responded happily, intentionally misinterpreting her question. "In fact, it's quite the privelege to be chosen! With the work you do today, you'll be increasing mankind's knowledge!"

"I don't understand..." Heather said, apprehension apparent in her voice.

"Well, see, I have this idea." Jasmine said as she climbed out of bed, taking her former friend with her. Heather always felt sick when they moved, but she'd gotten accustomed to it enough that she wasn't going to throw up. "I like to think that if I rolled you up tight enough, starting from your feet, your little head would pop off. Now I don't know if that's true or not, so that's what we're going to find out."

Heather started shaking. "W-wait, no! Jasmine, please don't do this! Please! I've been a good girl, haven't I?" She hated that expression, 'good girl,' but she knew Jasmine loved the dehumanizing touch. "I promise, I'll do anything I can to be better for you! Please let me try!"

"Oh, honey, that's so sweet. But no, it's nothing you did. I just feel like killing you today. That's all." Her voice had a sugary tone to it, one that made Heather feel frustrated.

"You can't just kill me for no reason!" She cried. "I've been good! You've trained me and I've obeyed and I do everything you ask now!"

"And I love that about you. So now, do what I'm telling you and don't be such a whiner. Just accept what I say and do what you're told."

"No!" Heather was furious. "No! You can't just kill a person! You can't!" Frustrated, she pounded her fists against Jasmine's massive hand. Jasmine just watched her with an expression of slight interest. Heather struggled for as long as she could, squirming helplessly in the larger woman's hand. Finally, she slumped forward, exhausted. Jasmine began running her finger down Heather's bare back.

"Do you feel better now?" She asked softly. "Did you get it all out of your system?" Heather panted against Jasmine's hand, still shaking from anger and fear.

"You can't... just... do this to me..." She said insistently between breaths.

"Of course I can!" Jasmine said, her voice more of a chirp. "Now come on. It'll be fun." By now, the two ladies were in Jasmine's restroom. Heather was set down in the sink, and after some rummaging, Jasmine produced a small metal rod. Heather looked at it with fear in her eyes. She was willing to do anything to avoid this, but she knew pleading wouldn't work. She just couldn't think of an alternative.

"Jasmine..." Heather said, searching her mind for anything she could say to change the larger girl's mind. "M-my head won't... it won't pop off, you know. It doesn't work that way."

Jasmine smiled. "I know that. But I want to say I've done it at least once, just to see what happens."

"Do it to one of them!" Heather screamed, pointing in the direction of Jasmine's room. "Kill one of them! I'm your friend!"

"You were my friend, that's true." Jasmine responded. "But now you're my pet. And you're being particularly disagreeable today, I might add."

Heather stared up in shock, unable to process what had just been said to her, much less how she should respond. After a beat, Jasmine scooped Heather up into her hand, pressing her tiny soles against the bare metal. It was warm from resting in Jasmine's hand. Jasmine took a thin strip of surgical tape, and started wrapping it around Heather's feet, binding her to the bar. Heather squirmed uncomfortably, but Jasmine's grip kept her still everywhere that mattered. The tiny girl's heart raced.

"Please, Jasmine..." Her head lolled from side to side.

"Shush now. Are you thinking about how pathetic you're acting right now? At least come up with some tasteful last words. Nobody worth mentioning died begging." Heather remained silent as her feet were strapped firmly to the bar. Jasmine gave her body a few tugs, eliciting squeals from the small girl, then nodded in satisfaction. "Now I'm going to be a gracious owner and give you the choice. Back or front?"

Heather was silent for a long moment, but it soon became apparent that Jasmine wasn't going to start without her. "...What?" She asked softly.

"Do you want me to roll you up from the back, or the front?" Heather shivered. She wasn't comfortable with how casually Jasmine was discussing her violent death.

"I... I don't want this..." She said.

"Fine, let's do it this way." She set Heather face-down on the porcelain floor of the sink. The tiny girl squirmed. She sobbed quietly, the anticipation of pain nearly unbearable. Jasmine pinched each end of the rod between a forefinger and thumb, and slowly began to roll forward. Heather's body was dragged back slightly as her legs bent at the knees, and Jasmine frowned. She straightened Heather back out and tried again, this time pressing harder against the tiny body. Heather's shins yielded to the pressure almost immediately, snapping outward against the sink. She shrieked in pain, writhing and thrashing desperately. Her tiny flailing wholly amounted to a slight tapping noise. Jasmine smiled and continued, crushing Heather's legs beneath her as she rotated the bar. Each slight twist brought more crunches, pops and squeals.

Heather was in anguish. Each snap shot a new wave of pain through her body. She tried to comprehend how this was happening. Some small part of her mind was convinced there was a way out, or that somehow this was happening because she hadn't thought of something to say. She desperately reeled for anything to think of, but the pain was overwhelming. As the pain grew, it consumed her indentity. She lost her concept of self to it.

Jasmine stopped right before the pelvis. "How would you say you're feeling right now?" She asked. "Can you feel the pressure building up?" Heather didn't respond. Jasmine shrugged. "Probably not yet. It'll be around here that it happens, I suspect." She continued to twist, snapping and crushing the hipbone. At this point, Heather's blood began to flow freely from her body, and her screams almost immediately trailed into soft whimpers of agony. Jasmine just continued emotionlessly, watching as the young girl's torso was crushed under the inexorable metal rod. A few final gurgles issued from her lips before the rest of her body was smashed.

As the bar rolled across her neck, it tore her body from her head. Heather's head rolled down the slight slope, and Jasmine let out a soft laugh. "I guess it did pop off, after all." She mused to herself. She rolled the metal between her fingers, looking it over, then started washing it off, rinsing the refuse that Heather had become down the drain.