There just isn't anything exciting about being a maid. I don't really have any good stories for you, sorry. I work all day, on my feet the whole time, just cleaning and making sure everything looks nice. I barely ever even see the people who own the place, but it's obvious they've got money because it's practically a mansion! Sure, I've been tempted to steal, but I always figure that the second I try something, that's when I'll get cau- oh, wait, you wanted to hear about something interesting...
          Well, okay, there was this <i>one</i> time where things got a little exciting, but it's a little embarrassing. N-no, I didn't do anything <i>wrong</i>! It was just... a little weird, okay? I'll tell you, but only if you promise not to laugh!

          It started normally, nothing out of the ordinary, just an average day, you know the drill. I was cursing my new insoles because they weren't working nearly as well as advertised. A good thirty pounds, right out the window for some foot-relief insoles that hardly even worked. They were better than nothing, at least. What was even worse was the uniform. Oh no, it fit perfectly and was reasonably comfortable, but it looked more like erotic cosplay than a work uniform! Think of a French maid in a dirty movie or some kind of anime, and that's just about what it was. Lace, frills, tight knee-high stockings, all of it. All my normal underwear was in the laundry, too, so I was wearing a skimpy black thong some ex-boyfriend had given me years ago. At least no one was home, so I wouldn't need to worry about bending over and showing my ass to anyone.
           After I put my key in the door and let myself in, I got right to work. It's never really that messy, which is a good thing considering how large the place is. It's work enough just doing even light cleaning in such a big house, but I'm always so paranoid that they have cameras that are hidden super-well, or something. Like if I don't do a good job, they'll <i>know</i>, you know? Maybe it's just me, hehe. So I started with a swift dusting on all the furniture and shelves, and broke out the vacuum. It's while I'm vacuuming the living room floor that I noticed something amiss.
          Out of the corner of my eye, I saw motion. Oh no. I could NOT deal with a bug infestation in the house. I was sure the owners would blame me for not cleaning well. I switched off the vacuum cleaner and turned around to look. Do you know what I saw? I mean, I couldn't believe it myself, but there were three tinies scurrying out from under the couch. I guess they wanted to escape before I vacuumed under there and sucked them up, but they ended up being noticed.
          It was my first time seeing tinies, so I was kind of amazed. I mean, I'd heard that little replicas of people existed, and that they sometimes infested houses and ate people's food and all, but it was so weird to actually see them. I bent over and scooped all three of them up in my hand pretty easily.
          Bringing them closer to my face, I could see them a lot better. Each was about the size of my finger, struggling and trying to escape from my grasp. I know most people just squish them on-sight, or call an exterminator, but I was feeling really bitchy that day. My feet ached, and the thong was riding up in my butt. Most of all, though, my lunch wasn't for another two hours and I'd skipped breakfast.
          “I wonder how you would taste...” I murmured softly, and the looks of terror on their faces shocked me. I almost felt bad for them, but some sensible part of my brain kicked in and reminded me that these were harmful pests, not people. I opened my hand slowly and carefully, and picked up the largest, a little guy who probably would've been kinda beefy if he wasn't so tiny. Once I had pinned him between my thumb and forefinger of the other hand, I closed my grip around the other two so they couldn't escape.
          The tiny who'd been chosen as my snack kicked and yelled out, trying so desperately to break away from just my two fingers. A smiled crossed my face as I looked up at him as he dangled above my face and imagined what he'd taste like. He went silent for a moment when he saw the look in my eyes. That was just enough time for me to open my lips, leaving the tiny guy suspended over the open pit of my mouth. I can only imagine what that must have looked like, staring down at the rolling pink carpet of my tongue and the bottomless chasm of my throat beyond it. I wonder what went through his mind at the time, really. Was he imagining the trip down my throat and his imprisonment inside me? I don't know, but if he was, he didn't need to imagine for very long.
        My fingers released their hold on him, and I felt his little body hit my tongue and begin to roll. I snapped my jaw shut, lips closing behind my tiny victim, and leveled my head back out to face forward. My tongue rose to pin him against the roof of my mouth, and rubbed back and forth to sample his taste with as many of my buds as possible. He was shockingly delicious, and his fevered squirming and thrashing was delightful against my so-much-more powerful tongue. You have no idea what kind of powertrip it is to do something like that! All I had to do was tilt my head back again and swallow, and that tiny little bastard would be sentenced to a one-way trip down my throat and hours in the acid-filled pit of my stomach. He'd go from stealing my employers' food to becoming mine. So, naturally, that's what I did.
        The feeling was amazing. He was just the right size to feel, and yet not gag or choke on him as he went down. After I felt the little guy descend down to my stomach, I eyed the other two in my grip. One was way too pale, like some kind of albino, while the other had a good, healthy complexion and light brown hair.  I could have swallowed them, as well, but I wanted to try something a little different. Unable to keep the smile off my face, I cleared my throat and addressed my two captives.
        “I've been having a really off day, you know,” I began, watching every change of expression on their faces, “and worst of all, these insoles aren't doing ANYTHING for it! So I was wondering if you could help me out...” I walked over to the couch, 'accidentally' dropping them both onto a cushion before plopping my butt down and giggling like a girl on her first date. Maybe just wearing a thong today wasn't such a bad thing: I could feel every desperate thrash and wriggle of the two girls, each beneath one bare cheek. It didn't feel as good as the guy sliding down my throat, but I could get used to it all the same. It was almost like a little massage down there!
        Reaching down for my shoes, I slowly slipped both of them off my feet and gave my newly-freed toes a quick wiggle. Those two tinies wouldn't really be nearly big enough to act as actual insole support, but they'd feel nice tucked under my toes, at least. I planned on making those two last, so I'd have plenty of time to acquaint them with the rest of my feet. Figuring they'd feel best right up against my skin, I peeled off my stockings as well. They were <i>so<i/> lucky I lotioned up my feet that morning; my stockings still smelled like vanilla instead of like hard work.
        I lifted up one cheek and retrieved a tiny, and then switched over and grabbed the other with my free hand. The little albino-looking girl went into my right stocking, and her little friend into my left. I slid those makeshift prisons back on onto my feet and legs in that order, pinning both of the miniscule girls beneath my toes. “Well, it's not exactly arch support, but maybe you'll help out anyways.” I felt giddy as I pulled both of my flats on, trapping both of my new playthings between my toes and the squishy surface of my orthotic insert. “Now brace yourselves!”
        That's when I stood up, putting the entirety of my weight down on my feet. My reluctant toe-supports wouldn't be squished quite so easily, but I can only imagine what it was like for them at the exact moment I stood. Already trapped in a dark, tight hell of vanilla-scented toe-flesh and pressed up against the soft fabric of my stocking with the soft give of my insole behind that, they both must have suddenly found themselves under enough pressure that breathing was a chore and every motion of my feet was a slow torment. Then I stepped forward with my right foot, which probably felt like being lifted and then slammed back to the ground for the tiny pale girl in the lightless confines of my shoe.
        With that, I decided to let them stew in there for a while as I worked. The next hour or so proceeded as normal: dusting the shelves, making sure no spills had been ignored the previous night, and everything else I usually do. I could feel the two girls under my toes, though their helpless wriggling calmed down after the first few minutes. That was kind of disappointing, but even the little bit of a power-trip I got from just keeping them there under me was enough to excite me whenever I stopped to think about it. I'd wiggle my toes atop them whenever that happened, and every so often they'd give me a little squirm or struggle in return.
        Still, that got boring after a while. They didn't really do much for my foot comfort, honestly. Turns out tiny people tucked under your toes aren't a miracle cure for foot-pain! Well, that's okay. I had plenty of other ideas for my two toys. Keeping that in mind, I went into the study and sat down in one of the reading chairs so I could slip off my shoes and stockings again. Once those were off, my captives found themselves free from the tyranny of my adorable toes, and I dropped my discarded footwear onto the floor next to my seat so I could watch. The first to come coughing out of a stocking was the healthy-looking brunette. She gasped for air once, twice, and then seemed to realize something. I swear, she threw this look at me that was both terrified and furious, and then dove into the other discarded stocking, the one containing her frail albino friend.
        They both emerged seconds later, the brunette dragging the pale one out. The colourless girl was wheezing and fighting for air, from what I could see, and I leaned in closer to get a better look. “Awww... I didn't know widdle mousey-people like you could have asthma,” I teased, reaching down to pluck the oxygen-deprived girl away from her protector and bring her up to my face. “Here. Need some air? Let me help... I don't want you suffocating so soon.” I dangled her in front of my mouth and inhaled strongly, air rushing past the poor girl and into my throat and lungs. “And now...” I exhaled, blowing out the used air from my chest and letting my breath wash over the tiny albino held before my lips. I'd had a mint before I went to work, and the only thing I'd eaten since was the male who'd been with these two tinies.
        After a few seconds of my makeshift therapy, or maybe just some time out from under my feet, the girl caught her breath, though now she had an entirely new problem. Once she caught her bearings and realized her situation, she found herself looking right at my pink, full lips and pearly teeth. I'm sure she remembered what had happened to the guy from before, because she began shivering and muttering something.
        “What's that, mousey?” I said with a cute smile, as if I wasn't threatening her with a one-way trip to my stomach just by holding her there. “You'll need to speak up; I can't hear your squeaks when they're all quiet like that!”
        She spoke louder. “P-please! Y-you can do whatever you want to me, but just let Emily go! Please... I promise I'll do whatever you want! Just let her go!” Her face was so desperate and pathetic, and I had to remind myself once again she wasn't a real person.
        “Oh? Emily, huh?” When I looked down, I saw the brunette, Emily apparently, hadn't tried to escape while my attention was elsewhere. She was too concerned for her weak little friend. Well, it would've been fun to catch her, but this could still work out to my amusement. I pinned her underfoot and gripped her body as best I could with my toes. I lifted my foot into my lap and dropped her into my free palm, and brought her up to my face as well. “You <i>do</i> look a lot like an Emily, come to think of it,” I mused with a little nod. “Okay. You can keep that name. But you,” I said as I turned my emerald-green eyes to the other girl, “you're Ghosty. Or maybe... Gaspy?”
        Emily spoke up then, angrily objecting to my teasing. “Her name is Mary! And you almost KILLED her! She's lucky she didn't DIE being trapped like that in a tight space for so long!”
        I giggled. “That would have been a shame. I'm really not done with either of you yet. I disposed of my other mousey a little too quickly, and now I only have two. Although...” I trailed off, a faint, sadistic smile crossing my face. “I actually think he's still alive in there. I can feel really faint movement. Must be enough air in a belly to survive for a while, then. Probably would have been better to suffocate early, because I can't imagine it's as pleasant as a dip in the hot-tub.”

(need to finish the rest, ending is done)

          ...So, that's the story. Please don't laugh! I know, I know, it was a little weird, but I was stressed and needed a little release, okay? Everyone needs a little relief now and again. No, I didn't make it up! I... actually, I know just how to convince you. Hold on, it's somewhere here in my purse.
          Wow, you didn't even <i>try</i> to move out of the way! Yeah, that's the same powder I found in that cabinet. I- ooh, it's already starting! It's okay, no one's looking this way. If you scream, they'll just come over here and think you're a regular tiny, hehe, and you know what will happen then. Shhhhh... just stay quiet for me. Let's see if you still think I'm weird when we get home. I'll be sure to make you last longer than my last stress-relievers.~