Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 [image: alt text] [image: alt text] [image: alt text] [image: alt text] [image: alt text] [image: alt text] [image: alt text] [image: alt text] [image: alt text] [image: alt text] [image: alt text]

Hope no one mind that I added to this story this week. Just had an urge to. That is the great thing about having so many stories rolling about in my head. When I’m uncertain what to do in other stories, sometimes clears up what I’m doing in other stories. As the title shows I’m not sure if this will be the fourth chapter or not, as I am jumping about a bit with this one to keep it light. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think. Also, don’t forget, if you can and would like to. You can support me at my Buy Me A Coffee page, Link below. Green Status and higher have access to a Members only story there. Thank you. CH ?04:Will’s Self Challenge M/f,f,f Vore only I take a deep breath. If I’m going to work for this place I need to be able to do this. I will need to have lunch at Little Nibbles Café. And I’ll have to eat everything on my plate. Or more my issue, everyone on that plate. Little Nibbles Cafes have a unique menu. Every dish has one or more tiny people incorporated into them. Wrapped in noodles, draped across meat, clad in pastries these little people were part of the meal. One the guest could devour, and for many of them that was the attraction to these private restaurants. Or if they were inclined a guest could ask for a doggie cage and they could keep the tiny person as a pet. I have that urge. The want to keep them. Since I’ve only been served pretty young women. But I have to accept that these little people are mainly intended as food. I am being a touch deceptive to myself. These tiny people are actually marvelous little clones. They have all the memories, hopes, and dreams of the person that they are a copy of. Including the want to not be eaten by some giant person. Though their bones are closer to hard cartilage than bones when they are served, they don’t know that and move and squirm just like they would if they were the real person they resemble. To make this more appealing Little Nibbles Cafes make their little bodies more to the guest’s physically ideal. In my case, more physically fit, like little fashion models. Making it even harder for me to eat them. As I rather touch them then digest them. My friend Jim is a board member in this secret chain of restaurants and he wants me working as an Internal Accountant. I can’t do that with a clear conscience if I’m not willing to partake in the main purpose of the restaurant. Sure if I can get through this I will likely still doggie cage most of my morsels over eating them alive. But it will mean I accept the culinary death I’ll be helping to run smoothly. I step into the plain gray door and look at the ornately carved wooden doors hidden from public view. I’m a member, thanks to Jim. Platinum member even as a friend of a board member. My nerves are just jumping. Like I’m about to have a lion jump at me. Yet I know I’m not in any danger. I just have to slip my membership card into the card slot and the door will click to allow me access. My arm reaches my hand out and the card slides in. An audible click and I open the door. Jennifer, shit I forgot to call her. Why didn’t I call her, she’s gorgeous. “Hello Mr. Jackson, on your own today?” she says to me in a cheery tone. “Yes,” I answered. Unnecessary I clarified, “I need to see if I can handle actually eating the little people that are part of my meal.” She smiles as she corrects me, “Accents, they are accents of your meal.” “Sorry, right Accents.” I accept my mistake. She grabs a menu and advises, “Follow me. I’ll find you a private spot to test your plate. Still not comfortable with the idea of eating Accents?” “No, I can’t quite get past the idea that they are little people. Might be my fault for taking so many home the other night.” I suggest. She looks over her shoulder at me as she notes, “This might not help, but for some guests that idea is all the appeal.” “Yeah, it was a rush when I first did it. But now that I have been thinking about it, I can’t shake the idea that when I ate those women. I ended their lives.” I explained. “They have no lives but to be eaten or otherwise enjoyed. If you didn’t order your meal they wouldn’t be brought to life in the first place.” She says and that actually helps some. “So, they only live to be eaten.” I reply as she points me into a small booth. “Exactly, like chickens.” She says happily. I had to explain why I hadn’t called her before she went back to her podium to lead the next guests to their table, “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t called. I just got out of a long term relationship. And I’m just a little out of practice with the whole dating thing.” “I understand.” she replies before suggesting, “So to make it easy on you how about this. My friend is having an exhibit of their art on Thursday at a little independent gallery. I’ll be going to Galbraith’s for a light supper at about five thirty. If you happen to be at Galbraith’s about that time we could eat and go look at their paintings together. If your not ready yet, I understand.” How was I this lucky? She was gorgeous. Maybe I’m so hesitant because she’s nearly half my age. But, she’s made the first move. It’s not like I’m a creepy old guy hitting on a girl barely old enough to vote. She gave me her number of her own accord. “I might need to look at some art come Thursday.” I tell her and she smiles warmly. “A touch of advice for this experiment.” she replies pointing at the table and twirling her finger. “Order one of the sandwich combos and a drink. That’s only three Accents. Also, ask the waitress to select off your list. So they will not be familiar to you. Yet with your data they will still be able to get you Accents that are appealing to you. So it should be a little easier for you to handle. Worse comes to worse, you have three new pets to enjoy at home.” “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” I replied. I didn’t know that was an option. “Hope to see you Thursday.” Jennifer said before turning to walk back to her station. The view was certainly making dinner at Galbraith’s on Thursday sound like a better and better idea. I sat and opened my menu. It didn’t help that the pictures of the meals showed them Accented. Half little men and half little women, likely to appeal to whichever preference the guest has. I skip the appetizers and I’m disturbed by the Tots Toss Salad. Then snicker at the Chick/Hunk Noodle soup. Yep, each meal was male-female labels with a helpful little note at the bottom of the menu that clarified that the mixing of Accents was an option. Well, at least they were inclusive in their cannibal cuisine. A pretty young brunette came to my table and began filling my water glass. As she did she said, “Hello Mr. Jackson. I’m Tammy, your server. Are you ready to order or would you like a few more moments?” I had to remember I was a platinum guest. That’s how she knew my last name and had to call me by it. Jim wanted me to have all the perks. “Not yet thank you Tammy. Could I have a shot of rum un-Accented? I’m still getting used to the concept of this Café.” “Certainly Mr. Jackson.” She said with a little bow and went to the bar. Some of the options I could understand how they worked. Added Accents on salads or bacon wrapped and draped over a steak. But the Breaded Chicks as a Burger or the Deep Fried Babe in Ice Cream just defied my imagination. How could they cook those with the little clone inside and not kill them? I made it to the Lunch Fare part of the menu. Chick Club sandwich, Hottie and Cheese, Cucumber Cutie, Cold Cuts Cuties, each had two accents on a sandwich that was divided in two and made sense to me. But The Grilled Chick or the Meat Doll sandwich were both confusing. Both would require the Accent to be cooked as part of the sandwich wouldn’t they? Like the Bimbo melt literally has cheese melted over the Accent’s bodies restraining them to the bread. I decide to just go simple and question how they are made later. A simple BLT and French fries. Yep, a Babes Lettuce and tomato. As described, two attractive Accents restrained in three strips of Bacon each laid a top garden fresh tomato and lettuce on freshly toasted artisan bread. Yeah, that should be manageable for me. Tammy arrives and places the shoot before me. And before she can finish asking, “Would you like more time Mr. Jackson?” I have downed it to claim my agitated nerves. “Yes, I’ll have a BLT with Accents not on my personal list and a cola to drink.” I state a little quickly. She takes it in pride and smiles in amusement. Then clarifies, “Off list Accent for the cola as well?” “Yes please.” I answer, trying to slow down. Then, I have a craving, “That couldn’t be a cherry cola could it?” I’m surprised when she answers, “We can do that Mr. Jackson.” “Thank you Tammy.” I say. She asks, “Anything else Mr. Jackson?” “No, I think just the sandwich and fries will be good.” I answer. “Right away.” she says with a little bow and is away again. She comes back shortly with the sandwich, fries, and my drink on a serving tray. The Sandwich has the top slice of bread leaning on the bottom of the sandwich. This is clearly so I can see the two attractive and shapely blondes laying in an unconscious state upon my sandwich. Bacon wrapped about their calves and thighs then another strip about her torso restraining their arms. Tammy taps my plate with that strange wand thing they use and the two beauties awaken. It takes them less than a second to assess their situation of being draped as filler of a sandwich half surrounded by French Fries with a giant looming above them. They begin rambling, in German I think. Oddly I think that’ll help me with this personal challenge. If I understood them they might have more of a chance. Tammy then sets my Cherry Cola upon the table. Tall glass of dark liquid with a little ice floating at the top. On a very little plate is a straw with a red haired sexy shaped Accent restrained to it. On her head as a hat is one of those bar cherries sliced to stay fit over her head at an angle. Tammy taps that plate and this one is just as quick. Struggling hard against her restraints she too seems to be babbling in German. “Everything look good Mr. Jackson?” Tammy asks like this was a normal everyday thing. “Yes.” I told her. Because I guess here, this is a normal everyday thing. “Oh Good.” She replies. Then notes, “If anything is wrong just wave at me and I’ll be right over. Enjoy your meal.” And she leaves me with three miniature terrified women among my food. I don’t know how to start. I look out into the dinning room and my gaze is greeted with a cascade of carnivore death. Tiny men being sucked back by a woman off oyster shells. A man slicing the leg off of a woman speared to his steak by his fork. Another man chomping down a burger as little hands stretch and grab at the air from under the bun. A woman dipping a breaded covered woman into some sauce face first, her plate says she likes to mix her accents. I turn back. I remember Jennifer’s words, “They only are alive because you ordered the meal.” And, “Alive to be eaten.” I take a deep breath and center myself. I look down. Both blondes are extremely attractive. I find myself thinking of Doggie Cage for home fun almost immediately. I wish Jim was here, his presence makes this easier. I slip the half a bread slice over one side of my sandwich. The now trapped woman screams and screams, likely wondering in her panic how she ended up on giant’s sandwich. Likely begging for me to show her mercy, to get her back home. Not knowing she wasn’t who she thought she was. I lift the top of the sandwich towards my open mouth, head first should end her torture sooner. My teeth crush through bread, lettuce, tomato, and take her screaming head clean off. I chew, the bacon flavor is delicious. That had to be her as the little of the slice I got with that bite would account for all that flavor. Her sandwich partner screams in terror and I understand why this is a enjoyable experience for the other guests. There is a rush in knowing you can eat a tiny person alive and they can’t stop you. I feel it as I take another bite. But I also feel a touch guilty, I could have saved her. But, to what end? How many tiny women do I want at home to look after? Sure Jim bought me a huge cage so I could keep many more then I already have. But that would also mean looking after getting them food and other perversions. I tear another part of the sandwich off with my teeth, I’m already halfway through the first Accent’s body. I slide the bread over the other side of the sandwich to muffle that one’s screams a little. I grab the straw and that one whimpers in a language I don’t know. I slip her into the cherry cola and she’s neck deep. I lift the glass and lower the level a little. The shapely redhead is shivering before I place the glass down. I take another chomp and grab a fry to munch on. This, this wasn’t bad. The sandwich was delicious all things considered. Fries cooked to a perfect crispy outer edge. And the cherry cola was not too sweet. They did know how to make good food here. I toss the last of the first half sandwich into my mouth and take another sip of cola. Tammy arrived as I’m chewing. How they always do this to me I never know. “How is everything Mr. Jackson?” I swallow and take another sip. “Good thank you.” I managed to get out. “Not so bad once you start? The eating of an Accent I mean?” She inquires. “No, rather tasty actually. Are they, well, do they flavor the Accents?” I ask. “Depending on the meal, yes. Yours would have a smoked flavoring added to their mix to give them a richer bacon taste. If your planning on keeping the other one you’ll find that flavoring will fade over a week or so.” She explained politely. “Interesting. Kind of a rush, eating a living little person.” I admit. Tammy smirks and advises, “You want a real rush, eat the next one feet first.” “I’ll try.” I say trying to convince myself. “I’ll be back soon Mr. Jackson to see if you need a refill or want something after your lunch.” Tammy informs me. “Thanks Tammy.” I acknowledge as I lift the second half of the sandwich. I look at my sandwich. The tiny woman inside is looking out helplessly, clearly begging in her language. I decide to take Tammy’s advice and turn the sandwich around. I bring the side between my teeth. My mouth tears those in incisors through the bread and veggies. I can feel the tiny woman squirming for her life trapped between the slices. To no avail as my next bite severs her legs just below her knees. She screams in agony and I feel a strange delight I know I’ll question later. I destroyed her lower legs in my mouth and swallowed them down. I take another sip before I go for her thighs. Meaty and firm are the last of her lower limbs. Now I have a new question as I chew, why isn’t she gushing blood all over my plate? Her screaming is gone and now just helpless whimpers escape my sandwich. I rend into the sandwich and take off her fine little ass. Her bacon flavor is delectable. Mixing with the fresh tomato wonderfully. All her sounds end with the next bite. Likely I took her heart and lungs with my eager chomp. She’s still delicious. I ate the last of the sandwich noting Tammy was right, that was a cruel power rush. I nibble my fries as I reveal more of my drink’s Accent’s fabulous body with each little sip. This was easy once I began, I don’t know what I had myself all worked up about. Tammy happily comes back, “Well Mr. Jackson, did you enjoy your meal?” “Yes thank you.” I answer. “Dessert?” She suggests. “Not today.” I decide. She leans in close and suggests, “If you eat your drink Accent, you should swallow her whole. You’ll feel her struggle all the way to your stomach.” “I did that last time. It was a touch hard on my throat.” I point out. “Once you get used to doing it, you’ll enjoy swallowing at least one Accent whole per visit.” She tempts me to try. I pull the straw out of the cola. I look at the restraints about the Accent’s wrists and it’s just a twisted strip of paper. Ankles too, she is so helpless she couldn’t tear cola soaked straw paper. I, however, do it easily. She yelps in pain as I forcefully free her. She is pleading away in the foreign language as I raise her head first to my open mouth. Tammy is there watching eagerly, likely wanting to be encouraging. The Redhead Accent’s skin is cold on my tongue from soaking in the ice chilled cola for so long. She slips smoothly over my tongue, I can hear her screaming in terror from within my mouth. I feel her head and shoulders touch the back of my throat and tilt my head back to straighten the path. As I swallow hard I suck her shapely legs between my lips. Her little torso slips down my esophagus. I enjoy those long legs dancing their last dance along my lips. Kicking frantically along my tongue. And tickling my Uvula with her toes as they are pulled down into the darkness inside my torso. As empowering as that was, still rough on my throat. Tammy is right however. I feel that shapely body struggling against the downward pull of my esophagus. Wiggling and kicking every compact inch. Then the pressure of her mass escapes my chest into my stomach. I think I feel her flopping about among the pieces of the devoured sandwich and chewed fries. Likely splashing in the now belly heated soda she was just recently soaking in cold. “See, feel like some powerful other worldly being don’t you.” Tammy asks self assuredly. I clear my throat and take a sip of cola before I point out, “Still hard on my throat.” “It’ll get easier, I promise.” She assures me. “I’ll try to remember that. Not to rush you, but could I have my bill?” I ask while grabbing a fry to munch. “Oh, Ms. Lewis picked that up for you.” Tammy informs me. Now I have a new question, “Ms. Lewis?” “Yes. You know, from the board of owners.” Tammy states like the whole board was known to everyone once they entered the Café. Then seeing my confusion she realizes aloud, “Oh you never meet Ms. Lewis?” “No, I have no idea who she is. Is she still here?” I should at least thank her. Meals, even the cheaper ones, were pricey here. “No, she left shortly after you ordered. She just asked that your meal be placed on her tab. I thought maybe you were friends.” Tammy explained. Then cheekily asked, “Would you like dessert now?” “No, I shouldn’t push her hospitality.” I say, but I have a feeling from my first visit there are power dynamics challenges among the board and don’t want to put Jim in anyone’s debt. “OK, well take your time with your fries and if you change your mind let me know.” Tammy offers. “I will.” I say. Now I have to worry when I come here to eat that I could be used against Jim in some way. I’ll need him to explain who this Ms. Lewis is and what and who I should avoid. He said I would be a help for him if I take the job he offered me. Well, then I should take it to help my friend. I finish and start back to my current job. I call Jim, “Hello buddy.” he answers happily. “Hey, about that job you offered. Would me being there really help you out?” I go straight to the point. “Indubitably.” he replied. “OK, to help you out I’ll take it.” I informed him. “Yeah, just to help me out. Like the more pay and better health benefits weren’t an incentive.” He teases back. “I had lunch at the Café today.” I told him. “Oh, was everything good? Added to your collection?” He asks cheerfully. “Yeah, all good. Actually I ate all the Accents this time.” I start. “Oh cool, good for you.” He says clearly wanting to encourage me out of my comfort zone. “Yeah, one thing though. A Ms. Lewis paid for my meal.” I informed him. His tone is attempting to stay cheery but I can hear him questioning her motives, “Carol, really.” “Yeah, is that OK? Is that something I should avoid?” I let him know I was aware of the possible power struggle. “No, that’s” he started, but paused enough before saying, “Fine.” To make me worry. “Well if there are any problems let me know.” I told him. “Will do.” He lied, he’s worried about something. “Got to go, guess I have to get back to work and give my notice.” I said to him. He suggests, “Hey we should get together and celebrate you joining the chain.” “Sure, I’ll call you. Talk to you later.” I say. “Yep, talk to you soon.” He replied. Before I hang up. I guess I’m stepping into the secret tiny human serving Café business. Not something I had ever considered till recently. Hope I don’t end up on the menu.

@olo Thank you for the feedback! I was wanting this to be nice, short focused and self contained while still conveying some history between them. I’ll keep in mind what you said about past tense. It’s something I’ve never really considered before

After about ten minutes of searching, Alix finally found what he was looking for. The store was called Small Comforts. They sold products specially made for little folk, and as far as he knew, they were the only ones. The moment he walked in, Alix was greeted by a tiny woman on a desk. She was around a foot tall and wore a fine dress suit. “Hello, sir. Welcome to Small Comforts. What could I help you look for today?” “Well… Um… This is harder to say than I thought…” “Feel free to take your time, sir.” The nice little woman said in as kindly a way as she could. But Alix recognized the fake smile she had, the kind he constantly wore when he was in the service industry. “Well, Mis… I have recently found myself… Housing someone smaller than me. I don’t suppose that you guys have a starter set or anything?” “We, in fact, do have just that, sir. One moment and I will have an associate bring it up.” After she made a call on a very small phone, a regular-sized woman walked up with what looked like three gift baskets and the same number of pamphlets. “Please take your time looking over what is in each care package, don’t be intimidated by the price tag. Every care package has a lifetime guaranty or your money back.” Alix looked over the baskets, and he couldn’t help but be intimidated by the price. The cheapest one was almost a thousand dollars, and all it had was a toilet, shower, bed, and four sets of clothes! “I’m sorry, but would it be cheaper to buy all this stuff separately?” “Actually, sir, it would cost three times as much. And honesty, it’s a damn shame. Most caretakers don’t buy the right appliances because of how expensive it is. But I can tell you from personal experience, sir, the price is worth it.” Before Alix could even think, he felt Julia adjust herself in his shirt pocket. Then, remembering how he found her, he considered for a moment that no one ever bothered to buy her properly sized things before. He doubted that any of her last so-called caretakers even considered her needs, aside from what was necessary to keep her alive. “I’ll… Take the middle one.” “Splendid! That will be $1,567. You made an excellent choice, sir. That is our most highly rated products.” “Ya, ya.” Alix paid for the overly expensive basket of essential living products and started walking to his car, making sure not to wake Julia on his way home. … Julia was a little surprised to find herself in a pocket when she woke up. Usually, her owners liked to carry her around in the front of their underwear. But then she remembered how her new owner found her, how nice he at least pretended to be. She was still wondering why he was so kind before. Maybe he thought she would try to escape if he was too rough with her right away? Or perhaps he was just that nice to lure her into a false sense of security, so she would not resist being claimed by him? A thousand possible sinister motives for his gentle touch rushed through her head as she pocked it out of his shirt pocket. Her nose was the first sense that detected that he was in the middle of cooking. Looking down, she could see that he was frying up sliced chicken on the stove. The heat from the stovetop rolled up his body and washed over her’s pleasantly. “Oh, finally awake? Dinner will be done soon, but I think I can leave it alone long enough to show you something.” Alix said as he turned down the stove to simmer and walked off. Julia got a good look at his house during the walk. He seemed to be relatively well off, or at least more financially stable than any of her last owners. They then entered what looked like an office with a bed in the corner, a little counter next to it with an alarm clock, and what looked like a strange dollhouse. “I don’t know what conditions you’re used to being kept in, but I hope that this will be comfortable for you.” Just then, Julia realized, to her shock and utter bewilderment, that the strange dollhouse was for her. “Y-You got that… For me?” “Sure did. I’ll let you have a look around it while I finish up dinner, is it ok for me to set you down there?” She nodded, and in moments was lifted out of the pocket by Alix’s big strong, yet so far gentle hand. After she was sat down on the first floor of the dollhouse, she began her investigation of it. To call it a bizarre design choice was an understatement. It was four platforms, each one a little bit higher than the other, and the walls were nothing more than Chinese fans that even Julia could open or fold. The first floor was a sort of living room. It had a cellphone stand in front of a couch and coffee table, a few throw pillows, and some decorative rugs. Julia felt a little uneasy. She was used to seeing furniture being much bigger than her and seeing some her size made her feel off. That feeling of being out of place only got worse when she got to the second-floor kitchen, and she almost screamed when she found out the fridge and stove worked. As shocked as she was by the first and second floor, nothing could have prepared her for the third. Her bedroom was a little plain, primarily brown and gray, but what surprised Julia was that it existed at all. She hesitated to touch anything, not knowing what she was fearing, but that she was indeed afraid. Set up next to the bathroom was a large, but still her size, wardrobe. She hesitated to open it. The closest thing to clothes Julia had worn in years was a pair of mouse ears and a but plug with a mouse tail on the handle. When she did open it, she found clothes her size, and even when she held a dress in her own hands, she could hardly believe it was real. Julia tried on her new clothes, a mix of excitement and hesitation as she did. She tried on a few different sets of underwear, dresses, shirts, and pants, but she had spent too much of her life naked to be comfy in anything that covered too much skin. By the time Alix came back, Julia had settled on a green tube-top and short-shorts. She was so distracted by her reflection, mostly how odd she felt she looked dressed, to notice he was in the room until his shadow came over her. When she did, terror returned to her poor little heart as she quickly got onto her knees before him. “S-Sorry I didn’t ask your permission before getting dressed, Master! I J-Just-” “Hey, calm down. You don’t need my permission to wear clothes. Dinner is ready. Do you want me to bring you food to eat in your new house, or do you want to eat in my dining room?” “I-I… I would rather eat with you…” Julia walked over and sat down in her Master’s massive hand. She noticed the blush on his face as he looked over her outfit. She was used to being admired for how she looked, but didn’t know how to feel about him being more flustered by her with clothes than without them. They soon got to the table, Alix sat Julia down next to an itsy bitsy table with equally teeny tiny plate and silverware. She picked up and examined the her size fork. She usually just ate out of a thimble or got tossed onto the plate with the food and licked clean after the meal. As such, she had no idea how to use the silverware, making her feel somewhat awkward. “Careful, this is still hot.” Alix said as he dumped a regular spoon full of pasta onto her plate. It was chicken parmesan, and it looked like he made an effort to chop it up as fine as he could for her convenience. Somehow, this is what pushed her over the edge. Julia started crying, holding her face in her palms as she fell back into the tiny chair that was there for her. “Oh no, are you ok? Did I do something to upset you?” Alix said as he moved to loom over her, not in a menacing way, or at least he tried not to be. Julia moved her finger’s so that she could look up at the all to caring giant. “Why are you so nice to me? No one has ever been this nice to me! Why are you treating me like a person!? What are you getting out of this!?” The friendly giant face hovering above her contorted in confusion, and maybe a little sadness. “What?.. I’m sorry but… Your sad that I’m being nice to you?” “I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU ARE!?!?!? I have been nothing but a toy from the day I shrunk, and have been treated as such! Why are you different!? Are you different!? Is this just some sick game to make me think you’re nice until you pull the rug out from under me!? THEN JUST DO IT ALREADY!!!” Julia couldn’t remember the last time she ever yelled back to one of her owners. She knew that if this was all an act, she was going to be put through hell for her outburst. But right now, she didn’t give a fuck. The giant didn’t really know how to respond to Julia’s accusations. Sitting back in his chair and thinking. “I’m sorry that… I’m sorry that you were forced to live like that. I have no idea how much you had to suffer to think of yourself as only a toy to be used and abused. But things are different now, and I promise that no one will ever hurt you like that again.” Julia looked at Alix with shock and awe. She had no idea why he was doing this, no idea if he was just manipulating her. But just the idea that he was honest was too much for her little heart to take. If big people could have been this kind the whole time, then why weren’t they? Why did every giant she fell into the clutches of untile now chose to hurt her when they could have been nice? Why was she forced to be a toy if she was a person all along? The questions rushed through her mind over and over, as she curled up onto the table and wept. Soon the warmth of Alix’s hand engulfed her, but he didn’t pick her up, this was as close to a hug as he could think of to give. Julia embraced the kind of hug, the last time anyone ever touched her this gently was right before she was taken from her parents. “We can eat later. I think you need some time alone.” Alix said as he picked up the little woman and carried her to her new bed. Placing her down onto it as gently as he could. “There is a bell right over in that corner, you can ring it if you ne-” “Why are you being so kind to me?” “Well… I don’t see you as a toy. You are a person who was forced to suffer like no one ever should. And I know you might not believe me, but I have no intention of hurting you like that.” “But I’m not a-” “Yes, you are. I don’t care what some monster told you, but you are a human woman. And you deserve to be treated like it.” Alix’s voice became sterner than before. Not in a scary way, but with more authority than he may have intended. The commanding tone of his voice strangely comforted Julia. He still spoke as a friend but sounded like a Master. “I… Thank you, Alix… I’m sorry for my outburst…” “It’s fine… Actually, there is nothing fine about how you were treated before. But I hope to make your time in my care mare pleasant. I will be cleaning up downstairs. Ring the bell if you need me.” Julia nodded to her kind owner before he walked off. She was still confused by him, and the fact that he made her reconsider her place in the universe was troubling. But he was her new owner, and if this was how she was to be treated, then this is how it will happen. She curled up in her new blanket and tried not to think about anything. Dossing off as she compared the blanket’s warmth to the tenderness of the sudo hug Alix gave her before. As she drifted to sleep, she kinda hoped that he might do that again soon. (Hello everyone, this is your one true king, MRGOBLINKING7!!! This was supposed to be a one-off story, but someone wanted more, and I’m a people pleaser. Hope this wasint to horrible a continuation. And have a wonderful life, my little goblins!)

@sloppy_amy Thanks again.

@olo Ngl, I would totally buy a big sheet of decals that say this and just… put them everywhere. The car. The bathroom. The stairs to my apartment…

@Olo Damn. That’s super hot!!

Chapter 6: The End? Clint woke up with a clanging headache in the middle of a wooded area. The first thing he noticed was that he no longer seemed to be small. The second thing was that he seemed to be in the middle of the park near his house, tucked somewhat out of sight. He was certain that what he had experienced was real. There was no way all of his memories between being in the locker room and ending in the park would just disappear like that. The headache he received from hitting his head was still there. He stood up and realized he felt uncomfortable. Looking down, he realized he was still wearing the maid outfit! Everything was too bizarre for the baffled high school senior, so he made his way back home, trying not to be seen in the odd costume. As he scampered away, he puzzled over his situation. On the one hand, it seemed imperative that he let the authorities know what Adam had done. On the other, his story seemed outrageously far-fetched, and he knew that a cheap looking maid costume was hardly decisive evidence. Arriving back home before his parents, Clint went to his room and flopped onto the bed, comforted in the face that he was his normal size. He remembered the cruel torment Adam had put him through. How he had shrunk and crushed so many of his friends with a cruel grin on his face. The power he held over them and his willingness to use it to execute the tiny people with impunity. How he had even used his tormentees as cum rags until they broke. His superiority… Clint came to his senses, realizing he had spaced out. He then noticed that his hand was down the front of his skirt. He yanked it out, disgusted with himself. He threw off all the garments he was wearing, changing into something more comfortable. He knew he had to do something about the maid outfit. He didn’t want his parents to see it, but he wanted to keep it handy in case the trail of the murdered bullies ever traced back to Adam. He threw the maid outfit into the back of his closet hidden under a few old boxes. The next day, the beleaguered jock came into school in a hoodie and a pair of baggy sweatpants. News had already gotten around that a number of the school’s athletes had gone missing, along with the school’s coach. The police were on the search, but Clint knew that they wouldn’t find anything. After all, there was nothing to find except a few miniscule red splotches that a janitor had probably already cleaned up by now. During his first period class, Adam sat directly in front of Clint. On his way to his seat, Adam flashed the frightened classmate a satisfied smirk. Clint’s mind raced as he rushed to his seat. Looking down, it seems that Adam was wearing his own shoes instead of the ones he stole from Bruce and smothered him inside. But the feet that had done the smothering were still there, slid completely out of Adam’s sandals, playfully taunting Clint. They both knew what atrocities those feet were capable of. Clint spent the rest of the day on edge, watching out behind himself in case Adam ever decided to finish what he started. When the final period started and gym rolled around, Clint was the only person there. Most of that class had gone missing under mysterious circumstances, so it had been given to the few who remained as a free period. A couple of students had just gone home, but Clint wanted to look around the lockers to see if he could find anything to nail down Adam. As he searched, he noticed a rustling from inside the trash can. Could it possibly be… It was! Peeking inside the garbage bin, he spotted the shrunken form of his friend Zack. He was shivering from the cold and frightened for his life, but he still lived. Clint cupped his hands and lowered it into the trash can. Zach looked up and recognized Clint. Relieved, he stepped onto his palm. The poor scared tiny was relieved to have reunited with his friend at a time like this. “Oh thank god, it’s you! I can’t believe it. I thought for sure I was the last one left. Everybody else seemed to have been either smashed underfoot or taken out unaware by the cleaning staff. How did you manage to escape? And for that matter, how did you bring yourself back to normal?” “It’s a long story. For now, I’m going to put you in my hoodie pocket. Just stay quiet, and I’ll get you some help.” Zach went deep inside Clint’s pocket and snuggled up, warming himself after being naked in the trash all night. Clint knew well that Zach was the only hope he would ever have of bringing down Adam. He thought about all the people Adam had ended under his soles, in his mouth, in his grasp, and even against his cock. With this proof, it could all be made right. Zach hopped into his car with urgency. Clint stepped out of his car and made his way over to the house. This was it. This would be the final confrontation. He had to make sure he did this right. He walked directly up to the door and knocked. The man who answered gave him the cold glare, as if to convey disappointment in him. “Really? After everything you still haven’t learned? Are you going to try to beat me up and take my gun? That won’t work; I don’t keep the shrink ray at home. I would watch your back when you go to school tomorrow if I were you, because it looks like you’re in need of some more punishme…” Clint removed the shrunken man from his pocket. Adam realized that he must have missed somebody before. Realizing he could be caught, he tried to run away to collect his shrink ray, but the hoodie-sporting man grabbed him by the arm and wouldn’t let go. It was all over for him. He would be brought to the police and made to pay for his crimes. Clint brought the arm he was latched onto closer and pried the fist attached open, placing the small man inside. Zach and Adam were stunned, not sure what was going on, until Clint let go of Adam. He grabbed the bottom of the hoodie and pulled it over his head to show the maid outfit hiding beneath. Adam smiled as his fist closed around the last remaining shrunken pet. It seems he made a good choice in letting this one live after all. He guided Clint into his home, squeezing the life out of Zach as they made their way inside. FIN

@olo I knooow. But Rice was only doing what she’d asked him to do in the end. In the other ending, she was actually going to have to confront Finch first, and kill her. But Wesson was always going be done in by the big guy.

@2ndsolesurvivor Pretty good.

@giantesslover45 She needs a teammate. Or three.

@dr-tol ok cool