The world blurred as the shipping box was ripped open. Light flooded in, stinging my tiny, shrunken eyes. I was naked, collared, and trembling on my knees—a six-inch tall slave, trained for one purpose: to serve.

A familiar scent hit me first. Vanilla and jasmine. My heart hammered against my ribs.

“Well, well. Look what the courier dropped off.”

That voice. Sweet, melodic, and now dripping with predatory amusement. I looked up, my gaze climbing the sheer cliff of her denim-clad legs, over the soft swell of her hips, to the face of Laura, my step-sister. Her pretty blue eyes widened, then narrowed with a dark, knowing glee.

“No fucking way,” she purred, her plush lips curling into a smirk. “My little runaway step-brother. The one who always peeked at me in the shower. And now you’re my… product.”

Her long fingers reached in, wrapping around my torso. She lifted me, bringing me eye-level with her face. Her breath was warm and minty. “The paperwork says you’re trained. Trained to worship feet. Trained to eat pussy. Is that right, toy?”

I could only nod, humiliation burning through me.

“Let’s test that training.”

She dropped me onto the plush carpet of her bedroom. I watched, helpless, as she kicked off her sneakers and peeled away her socks. Her feet were pristine, with high arches and toes painted a deep crimson. She wiggled them slowly.

“Start with the left. Clean it.”

I crawled forward. The smell of her skin