This is something I’ve been saving for a published anthology. It doesn’t even have a title yet. Haven’t published it anywhere else. So it’s fully appropriate for a soft launch, huh?

Tags: F/F/f, half sized, humiliation, muscle loss, dubcon, pet, NSFW

Hey ordinarily I would put some carriage returns here to separate the story from all the useless words I say at the top and I don’t see how to do that? Enter enter enter enter, huh how do I add spaces.

The silver tea service rattled as Rebecca carried it up the opulent staircase. Even for a woman of her impressive physique, it was all she could do to lift it, never mind keep it balanced. Just another way life was different only three feet tall.

In the bedroom, Mistress was already awake. She could hear moans echoing down the hall, could smell the sweetness of her exertion even from half a house away. The heavy tray tipped, and Rebecca steadied herself, biting her lip. Something about being this small, in a world made for giants, seemed to be affecting her libido. The way Mistress and her girlfriend were so openly sexual with each other didn’t help, as though they didn’t care that Rebecca was watching. Nor did the provision of the tiny woman’s contract that she remain unclothed at all times.

Rebecca bowed her head in silent deference as she entered the bedchamber. Mistress didn’t notice. Mistress lay spread out on the mattress, as her enormous girlfriend Julianne pressed her eager tongue between the giant woman’s thighs. Both were absolutely huge, nearly twice as large as Rebecca. As Julianne lifted Mistress’s trim little backside from the bed, and Mistress howled in ecstasy, the tiny woman shivered. The power, the strength to move a giantess so easily. It left her in jealous awe.

It wasn’t so long ago, that Mistress was simply Emily. And not a giantess at all, but just an old friend from college who’d made good. A rather petite friend, at that. On a dark night long ago, as they lay together in their tiny dorm room bed, Rebecca had teased her about that. How, if Emily hadn’t been so petite, they could never fit together. Back then, Rebecca was in training for the Olympic volleyball team. In prime physical condition, six feet seven inches of pure muscle. Emily, a mere five foot one, felt like more a toy than a woman.

Emily hadn’t seemed to mind From the way she screamed, and moaned, and allowed Rebecca to cradle her after like the little girl she was. But apparently something about that night had touched a nerve. Because when Rebecca fell on hard times, Emily was there, ready with that contract. Luxurious living. More money than she could comfortably imagine. In exchange, a year at just over half Emily’s height. As for duties, just some light housework. How could she say no?

On the massive bed, Julianne grappled Emily—no, she corrected herself. Grappled Mistress. Took the tiny giant by the waist, flipped her, drove her face-first into the pillow. Mistress moaned, hands grasping the sheets, as Julianne fingered her from behind. Rained little kisses down on her lower back, on the generous swell of her ass.

Rebecca held her breath, pressing her thighs together. Clenching as hard as she could, too aware of the steady heat growing just beneath her navel. The tray began to rattle. Then shake.

Then tip. With a clatter, two mugs of tea spilled down upon the floor.

Abruptly, the two giants stopped. Mistress stretched sinuously into an upward dog pose, chest brushing against the comforter. She yawned. Then, slowly, she turned to regard the half-sized servant standing beside her bed. Mistress’s eyes were very bright, her cheeks flushed.

“Well good morning to you, Becky. Don’t tell me we’re finding our duties to be too much already?”

Rebecca shook her head.

Mistress crawled toward her, resting her elbows on the edge of the bed, chin in her hands. Smirking. In another context, the expression might have been playful, or even seductive. At this size, Rebecca had the distinct impression she was being hunted.

The tiny woman shivered eagerly.

“Well,” Mistress purred softly. “Aren’t you going to clean it up?”

Blushing, she nodded. Setting the tray aside, dropping to her knees. Collecting the heavy porcelain cups. She would have to find carpet cleaner, before the stain set in. Then refill the kettle. The tea was on a high shelf in the pantry. It had taken so long to climb up the first time, how would she ever manage….

“Hey.” Mistress reached down, touching Rebecca on the chin. Made her stare up into those giant blue eyes. “Sure you can handle this, sweetie?”

Rebecca nodded her head at once.

“Because you seem to be struggling rather pathetically. I would think a big, strong girl like you would have no trouble with such a simple task.”

Julianne laughed. She straddled Mistress’s hips, working her large hands into the woman’s shoulders. Giving her a hard massage, while staring possessively down at Rebecca. As if to say, ‘see, she’s mine.’

Mistress closed her eyes dreamily. “Though of course, I’m mistaken. You aren’t a big strong girl anymore. Are you Becky?”

“N-no, ma’am.” Rebecca swallowed, still looking up at the giantess from her knees. “Well, actually….”

Mistress opened her eyes, looking expectant.

“I’m not big. But I’m… s-still strong. I can handle it. I promise.”

Mistress grinned evilly.

“That’s why you wanted me for these duties isn’t it?” Rebecca was talking very fast now. “Because even when I’m t-tiny I can still perform them? I’m strong, so I can serve you breakfast and draw your bath and rub your back and…”

“And you’ve failed at each one of those in turn, haven’t you?”

Again, Julianne laughed. There was playful cruelty in that sound. Rebecca looked at her feet, and said nothing.

“Yes, I see my mistake now. Thinking you’d make a good servant, that you’d be capable of anything. Clearly that’s not the case. We’re going to have to alter the conditions of your contract.”

Rebecca whimpered. “No, please….”

Mistress grasped her arm with a giant hand, shook her insistently. “Please what?”

“Please don’t make me go back to normal!”

“No?” Mistress pursed her lips. “Don’t tell me you enjoy this? Living half-sized and naked in my household. Always at my beck and call. No freedom, utterly at my command.”

Rebecca felt dizzy with embarrassment. Looking at the floor, she nodded.

“Well” Mistress sounded pleased. She indicated Julianne should cease her massage with a movement of her chin. The larger woman stopped at once, rolling toward the head of the bed, watching expectantly. Mistress lifted, then came to sit on the edge of the bed, with the groveling little Rebecca at her feet. “We will have to adjust your duties.”

The tiny woman nodded in relief.

“And you’ll have to be punished for your failings, of course.”

Rebecca yelped in surprise as the giant woman wrapped both hands around her waist, lifted her easily. She felt sudden terror, yet she didn’t dare fight. In that moment, there was something stronger, and deeper than fear. A part of her that almost yearned to be punished.

She let herself be laid face-down across Mistress’s lap. Eyes squeezed shut, she shivered with anticipation as a giant finger stroked down the length of her spine.

“Julianne, will you fetch Becky’s contact please?”

A drawer slid open, and Rebecca made herself look. The naked blonde giantess stood at the ready, with Rebecca’s contract in one hand, a red pen in the other. There was cold glee in Julianne’s eyes, sheer desire to make her only rival even less.

Rebecca trembled. Never in her life had she wanted so badly to be less.

“First. What is Becky’s listed height?”

“Thirty-six inches.”

A hand come down hard upon Rebecca’s undefended ass. The tiny girl cried out in pain, and arched her back toward the sensation.

“Six inches seems an appropriate punishment. Change it to thirty, please.”

A pen scratched. That same heat, as had felt days before, in the very moment she’d signed herself away. That same gravity, pulling her inward, making her less. Had it felt so good, before? She couldn’t remember.

Mistress pet her, as she moaned, and shrank. She clasped the larger woman’s thigh, a solid anchor as a storm of passion ranged inside her, while she dwindled to her perfect height.

SMACK. The blow caught her off-guard, made her breath explode from her in a sudden cough. She whimpered, spreading her legs.

“Change her title. Not ‘Servant.’ ‘Pet.’”

Rebecca nodded, felt herself melt with gratitude as her Mistress—no, her Owner—stroked a giant hand down the length of her back. When that hand paused at the aching little place where her legs came together, Rebecca obediently spread her legs. A finger, impossibly big, pressed inside.

Rebecca screamed.

“Emily, um, may I make a suggestion?”

Owner paused. Rebecca let out a low whine, writhing needily on her lap.

“Well. If Becky is our pet, she has no reason to keep those cute little muscles. Right?”

“Oh, I like the way you think. Mustn’t give her any reason to think she has agency. Besides, you’d like making her utterly helpless. Wouldn’t you Julianne?”

“I would.” Rebecca could sense the cruel grin on the woman’s face. Then the pen began to move, and she could only sink her fingers into the blanket, tears of pleasure and joy streaming down her face as Owner once more began to play with her dripping little pussy.

For a time she fought, pressing herself back against that powerful, probing digit. Little by little she felt it grow more difficult. Her strong arms softening, the muscles of her core growing weaker. Until it was all she could do to lay flat. Hardly able to move. There was nothing for her to do now, but be still. And moan, as the finger explored every millimeter of her tiny, throbbing sex.

Both giants were on the bed now. Sitting side by side, looking down at her with a sort of adoring glee, as she thrashed under the impossible weight of pleasure and shame and acceptance.

“Roll her over. I want to see.” Julianne’s voice was curious, filled with undisguised excitement. When she felt Owner begin to flip her onto her back, she was beyond fighting. She lay panting, looking up at the two giantesses. Julianne laughed. “Oh wow, look how weak we made her! She can hardly even hold herself up! Look at those tiny little arms, that cute tummy! Hey Becky, make a muscle for me, hm? If you do,” she added in a playful sing-song. “We’ll make you cum.”

She tried. Tried flexing her shoulders, then her abs. Her glutes, her calves. There was almost no strength left in her. Gone was the familiar crisp sensation, the gentle ‘pop’ of her long-trained muscles being called into use. There was only a warm, pleasant emptiness. She fell back on Owner’s lap, gasping from the effort, and giggled with embarrassment.

Both titanic women seemed pleased. Owner eased her back, massaged her exhausted little body. “Alright dear. A promise is a promise. Do you want me to cum for us? Say please.”

“Please! Please!”

Owner smiled benevolently. And massaged her miniscule clit, using just the tip of her smallest finger. Rebecca screamed, stars flashing before her eyes. Her last thought, before the building heat made it impossible to think at all, was that if it felt so good to be weak, why had she ever tried to be strong?

Afterward there were gigantic hands on her, giving her comfort. Then something very warm and wet pressed against her teensy little backside. Rebecca giggled, turning to see Owner leaning down, pressing her lips affectionately to the places she’d been spanked. Again and again Owner kissed her, until whatever pain she felt had melted away, replaced by a feeling of contentment and satisfaction. It went on, and on, until in the strangeness, the relief, the radiant heat of Owner’s comfort, she lost consciousness.

By the time she woke again, the sun was streaming in bright through the window. It must be nearly noon. Rebecca yawned, feeling guilty. But then, this was all that was expected of a pet, wasn’t it? To lay around, and wait to be pampered. She smiled, and stretched. It was hard, getting used to how hollow and soft her body felt. She wasn’t sure whether she liked it, yet. One thing was certain: it was going to make it necessary to rely on her Owners for every little need.

Rebecca grinned.

“Oh, is someone finally awake?”

Owner passed in from the adjoining suite, already dressed for the day. She grinned, and came to stand at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, towering over Rebecca with easy grace. It was all the smaller woman could do not to roll onto her back and beg.

“I do hope I wasn’t too hard on you. This isn’t what you signed on for. I’ve wanted you to be mine for so long, and I….” The giantess trailed off, and straightened. “If you wish to adjust the terms of our contract, I’ll be amendable.”

Rebecca smiled. She reached out, wrapping both her hands earnestly around one of Owner’s fingers.

“Are you sure this is only for a year?”

Thanks so much to Elle Largesse (https://twitter.com/mightytinygiant) for beta reading this story, and improving it dramatically. Thanks also to other beta readers who didn’t wish to be named.

CW: shrinking woman, NSFW, sizes from ~five feet to a few inches, non-consensual, gas-lighting, emotional abuse, “hypnosis,” 24/7 Master / slave dynamic, crying, brief impact and breath play, light sexual pain, speech and language restrictions, implied Daddy Dom / little girl dynamics, unreliable narrator

One-shot, 4390 words

The Burden
by pseudoclever

I start to get antsy around five thirty. He’s on the train by then, probably. Almost home. I should do something to prepare, I think, but I’m already groomed, and I’m already dressed the way he wants. Plus I finished all my chores hours ago.

They’re so much easier these days.

I end up pacing back and forth, wearing down a path in the living room carpet. Like a dog who knows it’s almost time for dinner. I’m not sure whether it’s Pavlovian Conditioning, or if he’s taking direct intervention this time. But I’m already panting for him, even before I hear footfalls on the front porch. My heart starts to race, my chest tightens, and I think how embarrassing it would be if this was just the mailman. Especially if they happened to look in the window. What would they think? That I’m just a very petite housewife with an odd sense of fashion? Or would they guess that something darker is going on.

But then the key crunches in the lock, and the door swings wide. He’s there, in jeans and flannel. A big man. So big that my head doesn’t even reach his sternum. He smells of the day, and of the outside world. Fresh air, and casual exertion, and that particular brand of aftershave he always wears. They say scent is tied more strongly to memory than any of our other senses, and I remember that I loved him once. Before all this started. I still love him. It’s just hard to trust that feeling now.

Master gives me that knowing smirk, cups my cheek with his rough hand, and I’m a puddle. He straightens my toga for me, and strokes my hair. He asks if I’ve been good. I nod, and he smiles, and it’s like the sun finally coming out after a hundred years of darkness.

“Come sit with me,” he says, and hooks his thumb in my collar’s metal ring, the place he’d attach a leash if he ever needed one.

He tugs, gently.

I follow.

I wait obediently, with my hands clasped behind my back, the way I’ve been trained. He makes himself comfortable, unhurried, taking his sweet time. At last he pats his lap, and I was hoping for that, or at least it seems to me now that I was. But if I’m at all conflicted it doesn’t show. I climb up at the speed of instinct, like he’s tapped my knee with a hammer and I’m helpless to resist the impulse deep in my animal brain. I lay face down across his thighs. A month ago, when he asked me to do this, I needed his help. Or at least his patience, while I climbed up the side of a couch meant for someone five times my size. I’ve grown a lot since then. I’m almost big enough that the furniture seems built for me again. I’m still on the small side, but that just means I’m the perfect size for his lap.

He pets me, and I arch my back to meet his giant hand. My hair, my shoulder blades. The nape of my neck. This goes on for a heavenly eternity. I’m literally purring. But also, I’m biting the inside of my cheek. Hard. Trying to keep any sounds from escaping that are too encouraging, that would make him take this a step farther. Trying to remind myself not to get too excited, not to let his touch carry me away.

“You’ve been very good lately, kitten.”

I squeak with glee. My toes curl with pleasure. I bite down harder.

“You’ve done everything a Master could want, and more.” He strokes down the path of my spine, into the eager little cusp just above my tailbone. “Except.”

I freeze.

“Something feels a little…. Off. About your… appearance?” He chuckles softly, and gives my butt two quick taps. “Roll over.”

My body obeys before I can even process the command, and I’m staring up into his eyes, a deer caught in the headlights. He inspects me, and I don’t even dare to breathe. I hold completely still, except for the goosebumps, and how the pounding of my heart makes me shake a little. He lifts my chin with the tip of his finger. Makes me turn my head from side to side. Then runs his fingernail over my bare shoulder, down my chest, parallel to the line of the simple white toga that is my uniform.

He stops beside my hip, where the garment is tied.

“This,” he says, thoughtfully. “There used to be more fabric here. When I first made it for you. Didn’t there?”

I’m so scared I can’t even make my eyes focus.

I nod.

“As I recall, it didn’t fit nearly so tight on you, either.”

I say nothing.

“Hmph.” He stares off into the middle distance, looking displeased. Then. “Go get your tape measure.”

I’m off at once, scurrying through the house as fast as my little legs can carry me. God, where is it? He hasn’t asked to measure me in weeks. Did I leave it in the bedroom, or in my sleeping nook? I’m letting the front-of-mind task consume me. Because I already know what he’s going to find.

It’s beside the measuring wall, of course. I grab it, and I’m about to run back to him, maybe he’ll be merciful, but then I’m caught, just staring at this simple white wall with a dozen little pencil marks inscribed upon it. At a dozen heights I’ve been, each time he felt it worthy to note my size. I don’t remember any of it – the marks, or the sizes. Just a vague sense of something that happened once, like trying to recall a vivid dream two weeks after you’ve had it.

This wall is the history that he won’t let me remember. Some marks are fascinating, like the one around the level of my hip, and I can actually remember that one, because it’s when I started growing. Other marks I can’t even make myself look at, and that must be his doing, his manipulation. There’s one around my knee like that. And the one at the very very top, I can’t even bring myself to see out of the corner of my eye. Most are very far down. I’m caught up in horrified fascination, trying to forensically reconstruct my life from the stories this wall has to tell, and that’s when he comes up behind me.

Without a word he turns me. Presses me against the wall so hard it knocks the air out of my lungs, makes me lift my head and stand up straight. He marks off my height with a pencil, then shoves me out of the way, unrolls the measuring tape.

Master clucks his tongue. “Four feet. Seven inches tall.”

Neither of us say anything. His expression is blank, impossible to read. All at once he lets the tape measure roll back into its spindle, and the sudden sound and motion makes me flinch violently. But I don’t run, because where would I run.

“I’m honestly impressed,” he says, at last. “At how much willpower this must’ve required, to grow yourself back. You never could’ve managed it in the early days. I’d put you to bed, and find you smaller every morning. After I’d spent the whole night making you shrink. You were positively insatiable back then. Do you remember?”

He reaches down, touches the collar, and makes me remember. Pours the memories into my head, until they all but overwhelm me. The feelings rush in – embarrassment and regret and nostalgia, but those emotions are background. Mostly I feel the sick excitement that used to rule me. The delirious joy of being his, back when all this was new.

Even then, I knew what was making me smaller. I’ve always known, because it’s always been the same. I wasn’t just allowing him to do it to me. I was seeking it out. Prostrating myself before him, each night when he came home. Begging him to touch me, with gesture and action, because words were for big girls, and I was not a big girl anymore. Doing chores all day to earn his attention. Then presenting myself before him, like a poor little animal in heat. He’d touch me. And because of the rules he imposed, and the words he whispered into my collar, each time he pushed me to release….

I’d get smaller.

“You were so creative,” he drawls. “At finding all the ways we fit together. All the different things I could do to make you feel good, so you could get smaller. The experience of playing with you was so different, when you were three feet tall, instead of four. The same for two-foot-six… or one-foot-three. Always fresh, and always new.”

I can feel my cheeks burning, as I remember it now. Even when he spent all night, wringing every last drop of my essence from me until I was too exhausted to crawl to bed without his help, I still wasn’t shrinking fast enough. I needed more. I’d stay up late. Curled in my sleeping nook, far across the house, where he couldn’t hear my moans. And shrink myself smaller.

My head is spinning, my mouth is dry. I’m getting wet. Why do I like this so much?

No. This is his fault. He’s controlling me. Forcing me to like it. That has to be it.

“I never once saw you react to getting smaller with anything other than satisfaction, and a desire for more.” He pauses. “Except that one day. It broke my heart, to see you so miserable. I had to take that memory from you. For your own well-being. Do you want it back no, kitten?”

I shake my head no, the pigtails he makes me wear slapping me hard across the face.

“You cried.”

The bitter day comes into focus, memories rising out of the fog until they fill my vision. I try to pull away, but his hand tightens on my collar.

“I know. It was awful, wasn’t it?” His expression is sympathetic, but I can hear something else in his voice. “The day you were finally too small to take my cock.”

I felt frustration that day. Then it dissolved into anger, when I realized what I’d become. I couldn’t even be his fuck-toy anymore. I was something less, much less. And even as low as I’d become, I still wanted to be lower. I didn’t want to stop, couldn’t make myself stop.

He cups my cheek, and runs his thumb along my bottom lip. He hasn’t done this since we cuddled in post-coital bliss, and we haven’t done that since he could fit inside me. The simple affection of it – I can’t believe how much I’ve missed it, how badly it makes me want him.

I can’t think, I can’t think.

“I understand,” he whispers. Almost purrs, but predators can purr, too. “That’s why you were growing, wasn’t it? Because you wanted to be big enough for me. That’s why. Isn’t it, kitten?”

I realize I’m nodding. Of course. That was why.

He presses that thumb just a bit harder against my lower lip. I taste the salt of his skin, the familiar flavors of his body. It’s such a strong sense memory, this taste, and I can’t fight anymore. I let go of this pointless resistance. Open my mouth, just enough to take him in. And start to suck.

I cum almost instantly. Not a powerful, earth-shattering orgasm. A weak, pathetic thing, escaping from me like an almost-suppressed sneeze. It’s the first I’ve had in weeks. I’d almost forgotten what they felt like. But it’s not nearly as pleasurable as the sensation that comes next. A yawning, urging warmth, in the pit of my stomach, just beneath my navel. Spreading all through my body, like honey, until it fills me up, and then it pulls back, and I start to shrink.

He picks me up then. Cradles me like the helpless little thing I am, like he wants nothing in this world but to take care of me. Master carries me back to the couch, unwraps my toga. And starts to touch me. He leaves his thumb in my mouth so I can suck, so I can moan around him, so the neighbors won’t hear, because at my size I’m actually capable of being that loud. I’m on fire for him, want him so badly that nothing else in this world matters. I’d pay any price, give him anything. Give him everything – every bit of me. Until I’m practically nothing.

He goes slow with me. Pulls my strings like a puppet, plays with my desperation. He pushes me almost to the breaking point, then eases me back. Again, and again, and again. I whine up at him, look at him with soft, pleading eyes. I’m too big. I shouldn’t be big. I shouldn’t have tried to be a big girl, and I just want him to take it away again, make me pathetic like I deserve. I want him to fuck me and use me and tell me I’m good. I almost find my release four times, and each time he pulls away he laughs, and I whimper, I feel my sense of helpless need for him increase.

He’s rubbing the edge of my slit so gently. Pressing down on my pelvis with the heel of his hand. It’s enough, but barely, just barely, and he looks at me, lets me know with a tiny move of his eyebrows that he won’t pull away this time. I chase that sensation with everything I have. Every muscle in my body tenses to push. It takes so long, his hand is over my mouth to silence my screams, and when I finally push myself over the edge, when that orgasm comes, it’s an absolute revelation. I squirt like a geyser, soaking myself, and his jeans, and the couch, and a little bit on the wall. He grins, and massages my own juices onto my bare skin. Soaking me all over, getting it in my hair and on my face, my tits and tummy and toes. Baptizing me in my orgasm as I shrink smaller in his lap.

Master unzips his jeans. Eases his cock into view. It’s so beautiful. Already it looks so much bigger than it was yesterday, and getting bigger as I shrink, but not too big, no not yet. I spread my legs in anticipation, and touch myself. He lifts me. Makes me face away from him, fits my head just beneath his chin. His gigantic hands squeeze my thighs, and it feels good to be surrounded by him like this. He tells me to relax, not to hold my breath.

There’s pressure. I open my mouth and howl, and it’s good, but it’s so much. So much. I can feel every millimeter of him as he enters me. I realize I’m holding my breath, and it escapes in a sudden gust as the head of his cock forces its way past my lips, and I cum again before I can even suck in the air I’ve just pushed out. He holds me against his chest as I shrink, as my whole body spasms for him like I’ve been touched by a live wire.

He’s not even very deep inside me. Not even halfway yet. Just holding me a few inches above his lap, both legs dangling helplessly, as I shake and cry out for him. He doesn’t even have to move to make me cum again, but the instant I do he releases me, lets gravity pull me all the way down onto his massive member. And another orgasm starts, before the last one is even finished.

I’m shrinking fast now. I’ve never shrunk this fast. He must’ve done something with the collar, or else denying myself so long made it more powerful. My head is sinking lower against his chest, my feet sliding higher up his thigh. Master is stretching me more and more with each thrust, and I don’t ever want him to stop, but I’m cumming every few seconds and I know this can’t last. He’s already bottoming out, the gigantic head of his cock pressing against my cervix. He intervenes, lifts me higher so he can keep fucking me, keep the balance between pain and pleasure in my favor, but now I’m too small to take all of him, and he’s still getting bigger. I think about how he feels this enormous when he isn’t even all the way inside, and it pushes me to my next orgasm. It’s so much. But I can do it. I can keep going, I can keep going, my mouth foolishly tries to say, but all that comes out is a low animal howl, followed by a little mouse-hiccup as my body gives into him again.

He stops before I’m ready. Starts sliding out of me. It’s slow, and it hurts, but I can feel how gentle he is with me. There’s a feeling of gnawing emptiness and suddenly he’s all the way out, and I gasp and claw at him. Try to get him to put it back in. I feel so hollow without him, even as my groin aches and my hip flexors grumble with how far I’ve been made to spread my legs. I’m growling at him in inarticulate rage, and he clamps his hand over my mouth, throws me down on the couch, pins me. He jams his middle finger inside me, not bothering with ceremony, and starts to thrust, hard and fast and deep. It doesn’t fill me or satisfy me nearly as much as his dick, but it does the job. I shrink around him, and drool all over the inside of his palm. He finger-fucks me smaller, and after a few more orgasms I stop fighting to get back up on his lap, because it’s clear I’m too small to have any chance of taking his cock. It was such a brief summer, when I was the right size for him again, and it’s already over.

I become aware that I’m crying.

He picks me up, carries me to the bedroom. Letting my chin rest on his shoulder, supporting my butt. I’m clinging to him. He’s enormous. Three, four times my size. He’s speaking to me, but I can’t understand. He’s made me forget language entirely, or else I got too overstimulated to understand it anymore. It’s isolating and scary, and something inside me starts to twitch and thrash like a wild falcon in a too-small cage. But even this feeling can only escape me in one way, and my fingernails dig into his neck as I cum from the sheer adrenaline.

Master lies down in bed. Pulls the covers up to my chin. His voice is soft, soothing. It makes me relax. I don’t fight him when he starts to touch me again.

I’ve never been this small before.

He’s using just the pad of his smallest finger, and I squirt again, but I’m too tiny to make any kind of a mess. I’m still utterly soaked from the last time, when a much, much bigger version of me had a much bigger, and more significant release. Now, nothing I do matters. And it’s mattering less by the second.

Time loses all meaning, and the world keeps growing. My body, assaulted by pleasure, unable to resist him even in the slightest. Now I’m too small for his finger. He lifts me, presses me to his face like some hors d’oeuvre. He savors me with his tongue, moaning in satisfaction. I grasp his beard in my fists as I cum, using him for leverage so I can grind my white hot sex against the rough texture of his tongue. And again. And again. Until he’s supporting me with just the tip of his thumb, and I think if he doesn’t stop I’ll break…

He stops. Grasps me between two fingers. And pulls me back so he can inspect me.

I’m not his maid anymore, at this size. There isn’t a single household task I could accomplish. I’m not his pet either - though the collar has shrunk with me, as it always does. Am I even his toy? If so, what use could I be to him at this size? I’m not even as tall as the fingers that hold me.

He grins. That titanic, terrible face, that I adore beyond all others. Even beyond myself.

Master is pleased with what he’s done.

Yet. I’m not happy. And I’m sure it shows on my face. Because he frowns, too.

“Remember,” he drawls. “That mark on the wall? The one that was very, very high?”

No. Please no….

It floods back in an instant. Memories, from my old life. The numbers come first. Six foot four. Trapped in a body I hated. Always the wrong shape, like I didn’t fit in my own skin. Intimidating to everyone around me, ignored or ridiculed by anyone I wished to draw close. Master. Though he wasn’t Master back then. He was the first one who understood. He loved me, he said. And always would, in any shape or size.

A mysterious little shop I found. A collar. I presented it to him. Explained how it worked. We made an agreement.

I was scared, at the end. A part of me too proud to let go. He promised he’d take that burden. Carry it for me, as long as he could.

I kissed him. We said some words together.

I don’t know if any of it is real. It feels real. It always does. But this memory is so visceral. The relief so sharp in my mind, as the collar fastens without a clasp around my neck. The way his voice shakes on his first tentative commands. That first time I shrink. Riding atop him, the inches blessedly, gloriously leaving me.

If it isn’t real, then it’s the fantasy I’d choose.

It’s gone, quick as a wink. I was thinking of… something. Whatever it was, it’s beyond me. I only know that I’m smiling up at him. And Master looks so, so proud of me.

“There’s my good little kitten. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

I don’t know what this means. But it feels good when he calls me good, so I nod at him, and blow him a tiny little kiss.

He lowers me. Lifts the covers, navigates my miniscule body through the dark cavern beneath his blankets. Something smells so, so good, and I sense what he’s about to do, just before he thrusts me inside his soft cotton boxers. I’m laughing, and grinning, the happiest I can ever remember feeling.

I set to work. He’s already hard, and from the way he quivers at my touch, he’s been on edge for a very long time. I can feel a giant vein thicker than my thigh, and I squeeze it between my legs, and his pulse quickens. In the darkness the head of his cock lifts, throbs gently, and I can smell something new. It’s pungent and sweet and good. It fills me with such love for him that I don’t know what to do with myself.

His moans are earthquakes. His exhalations a distant hurricane. I can feel the heat coming off him as he gets closer to the edge. And I try with all my might, but I’m too small for him. Not strong enough, and even with my best efforts I know I’ll never, ever be able to get him off. I feel useless, but it’s a good feeling somehow. Because there’s a simple joy in an impossible task, when it fulfills your purpose just to do your best.

Finally, Master helps me. Thrusts himself into the dark, and with one divine hand, he squeezes me, and he squeezes himself. Once is all it takes. Just at the last moment his thumb flicks, and he pops the head of his tree trunk cock outside of his boxers, away from me, and this is smart, so smart, because I want to lie with him after and not worry about clean-up. And then he’s cumming.

He’s throbbing and bucking beneath me, and I hold on for dear life. My grip fails me. I’m thrown from the top of his cock where I’ve been riding, into the slack space of his boxers. I slide down, thrashed about like a ship in a storm, finally I come to rest underneath him. In the dark I feel the massive weight of his shaft pressing me down, and I don’t fight it. He’s so heavy, and it’s hard to breathe, but the weight is good. It’s only the tingling sensation in the back of my neck that tells me I’ve just had an orgasm of my own, that I’m shrinking for him. But in the presence of such majesty, how could I do anything else?

We lie together. His breathing slows. He softens, bit by bit. The sound of the blood rushing out of his fading erection is the perfect white noise. It’s warm, and comfortable here. I’m safe.

He sleeps. As I start to drift off myself, I consider how small my world has become. I could live my whole life upon him, beneath him. He is my world now. But that was true even when I was much, much bigger. How much bigger? Is a scary question, and I’m suddenly grateful that I can’t remember the answer, even if I tried.

Something else occurs to me. It’s the last thought before sleep takes me. If he’s my world, then I am his, too. Because in every single memory I have of him, everything he has done has been for me. I’ve had many roles for him, at many different sizes. But always he has done more for me than I could ever do for him.

I’m his burden.

But if that’s true, he doesn’t seem to mind. Quite the contrary. And it’s so nice to let yourself be carried, sometimes.

So I decide. If I’m a burden, it’s a good thing I’m so tiny. That makes me much easier to bear.

I could point to so many early bits of childhood nostalgia. Movies and cartoons with an episode where a character grows, or shrinks.

One snowy evening many years ago, I wanted to see when something featuring that trope would be on TV. I typed “shrinking woman” into a search engine. And that’s how I found all of you.

@sallyfourth Very, very glad you’re here~ Welcome.

@SmolChlo So glad you enjoyed. We could all use a Master like that sometimes~

@littlest-lily I’m very, very glad that landed. So often these fantasies can go to dark places, but inside, it comes from a good and sweet place. I tried really hard to bring that out ️

The following is a remaster of a story originally posted in early 2020 - I’m surprised it never ended up here. In accordance with all of my stories, it’s smut - with a decent amount of plot and feelings for good measure. This story is also the first appearance of a character I rather like, who is going to be a featured player in an upcoming novel. I wanted to check in with her. Call this, “How it started.” We won’t have to wait long to find out how it’s going~

Summary: Michelle is the sort of women people look up to - literally. Confident, intelligent, attractive. Not to mention she’s six-foot-four. But all that height comes with its fair share of problems, and she has her fair share of regrets. Luckily, her boss is in the mood to help. With a little luck, those unwanted inches will be melting off in no time, and she’ll get to reconnect with someone important from her past. That is, if she follows the recipe.

Tags: NSFW, Shrinking woman, f/f, Shrinking contest, Gentle femdom, public shrinking, light breathplay, dubious consent to shrinking, be careful what you wish for

Link to story artwork, contains spoilers

Chapter 1

When people asked Michelle what she did for a living, she always replied the same way: “I work in an office. I guess?” It was a nondescript answer, but then, it was a nondescript job. She answered phones. She processed payments. She entertained clients – this last involved tacitly allowing them to hit on her while they waited in the lobby. Flirting back, but nimbly preventing things from going too far.

It was an artform, and being nimble in many senses of the word, one for which she was well-suited. She was tall and attractive and extremely good at what she did. People tended to flock to her, which was okay, to a point. Michelle had been the captain of her college’s Division Two volleyball team – a minor celebrity, in a very narrow circle. She was used to having fans and admirers. As such, deflecting the advances of strangers came naturally.

They’d ask about her personal life. “I’m single, but I’m focused on my career right now.” Or about her height. “I’m six-foot-four, and believe me it’s more trouble than its worth.” The game was to keep the conversational ball in the air, until the little red light went on behind her desk. The older men made this most challenging, were the hardest to put off. The women were the easiest. Most of them just stared at her in awe, and would even stammer when she offered them coffee, which was adorable. She’d even considered giving some of them her number, but this was probably frowned upon. Plus they were all too short for her.

Eventually the light would come on. “Eve will see you now,” she’d say, or, “Right this way,” or if she was feeling feisty, “Come with me.” In the back, past rows of cubes and copiers, was a small office with a mosaic glass window. Michelle would hold the door for them. And that was it. Once in a while she was called to escort them out again, but this was rare, and usually an older man who had previously given her trouble. Most, she simply never saw again.

It was late one Friday when all this changed. Michelle had just finished sending a payment to yet another home renovation company, when the red light came on. She looked up on muscle memory, expecting to see a client waiting, perhaps one she’d forgotten. She was alone.

What is a Pavlovian dog supposed to do, she wondered, if the bell rings and there was no one to feed her?

Michelle did the only thing that made sense. She went back through the empty office space, to the mosaic glass door. She knocked.

“Come in!” a sweet voice called.

She was four steps across the threshold before she realized she’d never seen into Eve’s office before. It wasn’t what she expected – but it suddenly occurred to her that she’d never thought to expect anything. The room was cavernous, with a high glass ceiling and polished stone walls going far off in either direction. Everywhere there were plants. Tall palms and low ferns, fragrant bushes and flowers she couldn’t hope to identify. They didn’t seem to be potted either, but growing up from bare soil, as if someone had stripped a hole in the foundation beneath the building.

Michelle pushed her way through the strange little jungle. She could barely see the other side of the room through holes in the foliage; it must take up at least a whole city block! But there was another storefront next door – on either side in fact. And the sun shouldn’t be coming through the skylight this time of day. With the new condos across the street, this whole neighborhood should be in shadow.

“This way, dear. Take a left past the willow.”

Michelle stepped over a bundle of roots, found a gravel path in the dirt. She followed it. At the end, in a bright little clearing, sat a woman. She was behind a desk strewn with papers, a laptop hanging precariously off one corner. She was pale and pretty, with long black hair that trailed down nearly to her waist, and she was tapping distractedly on her phone.

“Eve?”

The woman smiled, setting the device aside. “Ah, you must be Michelle. Have a seat.” She pointed at a chair that Michelle was certain hadn’t been there a moment before.

She hesitated, studying the woman up and down, sensing a trap. “You’re my boss?”

“If you want to use the term, sure.” She twirled a finger toward the seat encouragingly. “I just had to get a look at you. You’re making quite an impression on our clients.”

Michelle warily took her seat. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Mmm, yes and no. In general it’s something I admire. But for your role at our company, it is definitely frowned upon.”

“I’m sorry,” she responded instinctively. “It didn’t mean to–”

Eve waved her hand dismissively. “No, no, it’s my fault. A problem with recruitment I suppose. I wanted someone competent, and extremely attractive. You’re even blonde, just as I requested, so all that came though just fine. I thought I specified someone unassuming, though.”

She could feel hot blood rushing to her cheeks. “I don’t remember seeing ‘unassuming’ in the job description.”

“What do you remember? About the, ah, job description, sweetie?”

Michelle stared.

“Nothing, huh? What about your first day, then? Any anecdotes from your on-the-job training? Someone must have told you my name at some point, at least? Who was it?” Eve’s eyes twinkled green in the afternoon light. “Nobody. Huh? Is it like you already knew?”

“What are you?” Michelle asked suddenly.

Eve snapped her finger several times in applause. “Great question! I’m a witch, of course. And something of a genie too, I guess? The concepts overlap at my level.” She tapped her chin, searching for the words. “Okay, so, it’s like this. People come to me. They want things. They say words, though usually the words aren’t important. It’s the want see? We negotiate a price. And then… things change for them. Most of the time for the better.”

Michelle did her best to act as if she’d understood this. She affected a casually lean against the desk, while inside she felt her life crashing to ruin. “So uh, tell me then. Eve. Why does a witch need a personal assistant?”

Eve laughed, the sound like the tinkling of a dozen tiny bells. “Oh, you aren’t my assistant silly. You’re my familiar!”

Michelle pushed her chair back, rising to her feet. “I’m what?”

Eve rolled her eyes. “Save you existential crisis. You’re still you. It’s not even a violation of free will, technically. I made a spell to summon the appropriate person. Someone capable yet unobtrusive, who could fade into the background while doing the necessary, boring parts of my job. You showed up – despite being a person who utterly fails to fade. There has to be a reason. So let’s investigate, shall we? Because as much as I appreciate your work ethic, you’ve been making my life harder.”

“Harder? How?”

“You’re confusing them, sweetie. My clients.” The witch leaned back, contemplating the impossible sunlight reflecting from above. “They aren’t thinking about the right things, when you escort them back here. They’re thinking about you. Half want to date you. The others want to be you. Tall, and confident, and commanding. All the hours I’ve wasted getting them back on task…”

“Sorry,” Michelle whimpered.

“I said save it.” Eve softened. “Here. Let’s figure this out. Look at me.”

Michelle did. The witch came around to her side of the desk. The woman was much shorter than she’d been expecting – though Eve was a bit on the tall side for a woman, she supposed. Most everyone was shorter than Michelle.

Eve stood toe to toe with her. She took each of Michelle’s hands in hers, studied her palms, then the backs of her hands. Her expression was appraising, yet there was an affectionate sort of curiosity as well. The look of someone trying to find a reason not to throw away a beloved but moth-eaten old sweater. “The first thing I’ve deduced: you’re very tall.”

“I’m six-foot-four, and it’s more trouble than it’s worth,” Michelle responded automatically.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

She discarded her stock reply for when the conversation took this path, thought about the question for perhaps the first time in years, as Eve carefully inspected a stand of Michelle’s hair. “I mean, there are good things about my height, don’t get me wrong. It gives me certain advantages – on the court, it definitely did. And in my regular life, it makes people take me seriously. But….” Michelle suddenly yelped as Eve gave her hair a sharp little tug. “Can I help you with something?”

“Don’t mind me. Magic stuff.” She pointed toward the floor, at Michelle’s sensible ballet flats. “Take one of those off. The left one. Your sock too. Put your foot on my desk.”

Michelle did, feeling foolish. Eve ran the tip of her finger along the blade of her foot, her lips pursed thoughtfully. This continued, Eve’s movements an odd mix of clinical and sensual, until the witch found a point that made Michelle’s whole leg give an involuntary jerk. She gave an I-thought-so nod. “Other foot now. You were saying? About your height?”

Michelle sighed loudly, but obeyed. “I was saying, that being tall tends to attract unwanted attention. It makes some people treat you with undue familiarity….”

“Mm,” Eve agreed, her face two inches from Michelle’s big toe.

“While others get scared away. And it tends to warp your perceptions, too. Who’s worth your time. Who isn’t. Let’s just say… when I was younger, I made some choices that I regret, with a person I cared about very much. A lot of it had to do with being tall. I’d rather not go into details right now.”

“Ah. Don’t want to get too personal with your boss, huh?” Eve was fishing a set of calipers out of her drawer.

Michelle finally had enough. She stepped away from the witch, crossing her arms over her chest. “This? Whatever it is? It’s done.”

Eve stuck out her tongue. “Oh you’re no fun. Anyway I’ve almost got what I want. One last question: would you change it?”

“Working for a witch? Jesus, probably.”

Eve laughed. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. Don’t dodge that question.” She sat back down, putting her feet up on the desk. “Being tall. Michelle. If I could fix it for you. Would you want that?”

For a long time, Michelle didn’t say anything. The silence played out, as Eve grinned at her impishly. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “You… could really do that, couldn’t you? I mean, you’re a witch, right?”

The woman’s nod was barely perceptible. Her eyes were terrifyingly bright and green. Somewhere, water dripped from a high forest branch.

“But,” Eve said. “I won’t.”

“Why not?” Michelle whined, disappointment evident in her voice.

“Because it helps to have goals, sweetie. Something to drive us. If you’re going to work for me, I want you to have something to work toward.”

The taller girl threw herself into her chair, pouting. “How do you expect me to work at getting smaller?” she asked the ceiling.

“Magic, duh. I can teach you – the parts you need, at least. It’s like, I don’t know, eighty-five percent horticulture. And the other fifteen won’t be hard, if you’ve got talent. I’m quite sure you do, by the way.” Eve dimpled. “I was worried that I’d messed up the spell that summoned you. But I forgot that I left a little room for interpretation. So maybe you aren’t as unassuming as I wanted. But unless I miss my guess, you’re quite a bit more capable.”

Michelle remained limp in her chair, not bothering to look up. “How’s the pay? For being a witch, I mean?”

“Stinks. I can barely afford your salary, much less the office space outside. Let’s focus more on the benefits package.”

She looked up at this, studying the witch with a wary expression. “You’re really going to teach me to do magic? To make, what, a shrinking potion?”

“That’s a little advanced. You aren’t even in kindergarten yet. Think more like, Potion of Slightly Redder Hair. Anti-hangnail tinctures. But what you’re after? I promise you, it’s not too far down the road.”

Michelle sighed. “Can I have the weekend to think it over?”

“Oh yeah, totally! But I already know you don’t need it. Special talent of mine – I have a knack for knowing what people want. Usually better than they do.”

Smirking, Eve offered her hand.

Michelle sighed louder this time. And shook with her.

Chapter 2

The train ride into the city was long, and Anna had plenty of time to think about Michelle’s odd little long-form roleplay. The scenery in this part of the country was dull, all grey brick and suburban decay.

As so often happened lately, she pulled out her phone to re-read the same conversation, to try to make sense of it. Revisiting it gave her a giddy little thrill. Michelle was just an endless treasure trove of weird lately. Anna decided this time to go all the way back to the beginning. It took her nearly ten minutes of scrolling. The timestamp was from almost a year ago.

Fri, June 21, 5:42pm
Michelle: Hey, so hypothetically. If I told you magic was real and I was learning to do it, would you think I was crazy?

Anna: I would think you were 200% crazy. I would think you were two DIFFERENT crazy people at once.

Michelle: OK

Wed, June 26, 12:17pm
Michelle: It is, though.

What followed was an image of a green-haired Michelle, with a gaudy blue aura around her head. She was holding a disgusting little amphibian, and was actually kissing it.

Michelle: I made dis frog

Anna: Been getting into Photoshop huh?

Radio silence for a few days. Then…

Anna grimaced. The next bit was her ugly breakup with Thomas, the long conversations she’d had with Michelle in the aftermath. She flicked her thumb for a while, making it go away.

Michelle: Want me to turn him into a goose?

Anna: No lol why a goose? They’re MEAN and have too many teeth.

Michelle: Ya but everyone hates them.

More Photoshopped pictures. Michelle with body-builder muscles. Michelle with oddly metallic skin. Michelle doing duck-face with breasts easily as big as her head (Anna had saved that one.) She’d never known her old roommate to be any good at digital art, but these edits were pretty good. Except, in some of them, there was a weird green blur in the background. Some kind of editing artifact, she supposed. Then…

Tues, Jan 7, 3:19pm
Michelle: I DID IT! I DID IT!

A selfie of Michelle, winking at the lens like an anime character. She was sweat-stained and covered in soot, and was holding a small vial filled with what looked like green maple syrup.

Michelle: This is TOTALLY for real SHRINKING potion! says I did a great job!
Michelle: Just imagine me SHORTER than you. Like, a LOT shorter.

Anna: You know, if you want to fuck that bad, you can ASK. No need for all the make-believe.

Thurs, Jan 23, 5:02pm
Anna: Didn’t mean to scare you off.

Sat, Jan 25, 8:00am
Michelle: You didn’t

By now Anna was in her hotel, hanging half off the edge of the bed, her bare feet kicking anxiously in the air as she read. This section always made her feel a little guilty…

Anna: OK
Anna: You know how I feel about it.

Michelle: Not really
Michelle: We never talked
Michelle: We tried. You got mad at me.

Anna: You LAUGHED though. Sorry. That’s always going to piss me off.

Sat, 12:16pm
Michelle: Sorry.
Michelle: I won’t last next time.
Michelle: *laugh
Michelle: If there is a next time.
Michelle: If you could have me at any height, what height would you want?
Michelle: How tall was that one girl? Bitsy?

Anna: Betty. I don’t know.

Betty was 4’11". Anna had met her in the stadium that day, back when she and Michelle were roommates. Was it the title game? She couldn’t remember. The crowd was big though. The girl was shy and submissive, sitting in the row behind Anna, her t-shirt a full size too big. In her pumps, Anna was over a foot taller. A flirty apology for blocking her view, a few kind words – that was all it took. Of course Betty wanted to be her date to the after-party.

Was it her intention to make Michelle jealous, asking out someone so short? At the time she didn’t think so, even if she was aware it would detract a little from their star player’s victory celebration. She and Michelle had been in will-they-won’t-they space for months by then, and Anna was honest enough to admit she was getting frustrated. It was such a stupid Catch-22: Michelle’s refusal to date anyone shorter; her own refusal to date anyone taller.

Oh well. Under the circumstances, maybe asking out someone 4’11” was kind of a dick move….

Sat, 2:19pm
Michelle: Yuan was 6’7". She let me measure her.

Anna: You’re such a size-slut.

Michelle: Yeah…

Anna could recall how it felt, when she watched her roommate walk into the party. The party they had planned together. With that giantess on her arm – the one famous for being among the tallest in the league. That little smirk on Michelle’s face when their eyes met from across the room.

Sat, 4:03pm
Anna: If you were smaller tho? If I got to choose? Maybe not as small as Betty. She was too fragile.

Michelle: Yeah…

Everyone at the party had heard how fragile, that night. After Betty and Yuan had not-so subtly snuck off together. Michelle had rushed to turn the music up loud, to drown out the tiny girl’s screams. Later, upon emerging all ruffled and wide-eyed, two dozen people had given the mis-matched couple a round of applause. Yuan had bowed. Betty caught a cab.

The laughter happened later. When the house was empty and trashed. Michelle and Anna, in a cramped little bed together. They’d moved there from the couch. Was that ten minutes ago? An hour? It was a pleasant, pink-colored blur. They’d somehow managed to get past their little size problem – most likely the alcohol helped.

Michelle had lifted from on top of her smaller roommate, was stripping. Anna made an idle comment. Something about how Michelle should be grateful she was setting aside her tall-person prejudice. Michelle smirked, and made an ill-advised joke. Something about not usually settling for tiny girls. Anna, 5’9" and particularly sensitive to slights of her stature, had stormed off to fetch her biggest, tallest pair of heels. They hadn’t come close to evening the height gap between them.

They both knew the laugh was a mistake. Michelle had bitten it back almost at once. The night was over. It was the first, and last time they’d ever fooled around.

Mon, Jan 27, 10:58am
Anna: Five feet even would be a good height for you.

Michelle: Yeah…

Anna was in a cab now. The auburn-haired beauty paused in re-reading the exchange, using her camera to check her makeup. It was perfect, she knew. She just wanted to see again. She dropped the angle, making sure the dress was displaying her assets properly. It was dangerous to go without a bra, but if the night were headed where she hoped, probably worth the risk.

There were long exchanges about what it would be like, to have Michelle at that height. Exactly what Anna would do with her. Anna’s statements tended to start with ‘If.’ Michelle’s, with ‘when.’ The first few bits were cute – helping the smaller girl shop for new dresses to accentuate her tiny stature. How to pick out elegant and refined solutions for making sure she could always reach the top shelf. Michelle remarking how many more steps she was sure to take in a day, how nice it would be to have someone to rub her tired little feet. That had turned into their first true roleplay. With time, things had become more… explicit. Well, who could blame her, Anna thought. She’d been single for months now.

Anna scrolled down, and down, welcoming the feeling of heat in her chest, the faint tightening in her throat that always came with revisiting these sessions. Abruptly she hit bottom. Anna sighed happily to herself, and started to type.

Anna: You small yet?

The reply came back at once.

Michelle: Just started. It’s REALLY nice.

Anna: I’m almost there.

Her car pulled up in front of Michelle’s building. Anna’s lips curled as she felt herself slip effortlessly into the proper Domme headspace for tonight. Her black evening dress fluttered behind her. It was sheer down the back and bare at the legs. Very expensive, but well worth it tonight. The shoes, though, were practically lethal. Platforms, with thin, dangerously sharp heels. Something she’d learned since college: it turned out if you wanted really tall heels, leather fetish shops were your friend. They increased her already impressive height by fully eight inches. They required a bit of practice before she felt confident going outside in them, but damn. The way people on the street looked at her, three parts terror, two parts desire. The way they got out of her way, and stayed out. She felt like a goddamn goddess in these shoes.

Hopefully Michelle was in a supplicating sort of mood.

It seemed so. The way Michelle opened the door was timid and slow, as if she expected there was a monster behind it.

“Hey cutie,” Anna purred, appreciating the two-inch height advantage her heels gave her. It was the first time she had ever found herself looking down at her amazonian friend.

“Hey yourself,” Michelle replied, stepping back to let Anna enter the apartment. They looked each other up and down. “You look… really nice.”

“So do you. I always liked the ‘good girl’ aesthetic on you. Nice pleats on that skirt by the way. School uniform surplus?”

“No.” Michelle crossed her arms defensively over her chest. “I checked. They didn’t have anything in my size. I modified this one myself, special for tonight. See all the little hooks on the side? I can tighten it a lot, if it gets too big. I cut if down from a kilt, if you want to know.” She spun in her flats, allowing the garment to flutter prettily.

“I’ll say it’s cut down. I can see your ass when you do that. Nice lingerie, by the way.”

Michelle giggled, and spun a bit faster, showing off.

Without thinking, Anna reached out and caught her friend by the hand, stopping her mid-twirl.

Their eyes met.

In truth, Anna had worried about tonight. That the two of them might overthink things, that after all these years and all this tension, they might not be able to go through with making up for lost time. That they’d end up with an awkward hug or two, and she’d be back at her hotel room by nine.

Those worries seemed foolish now.

They kissed, coming together as if whatever fundamental force had kept them apart for so long had finally collapsed. Anna pressed down, emphasizing her superior height, and Michelle gave a soft little whimper from the back of her throat. She dipped lower, apparently bending her knees to emphasize the effect of being smaller. It was smooth, practiced. Anna grinned. Michelle had clearly put thought into this. Oh, tonight was going to be fun.

She let the kiss go on for perhaps a dozen seconds, until her ‘shorter’ friend was getting handsy, on the verge of taking things too far – for so early in the evening, at least.

“What about the fitted shirt?” Anna asked abruptly, wiping saliva off her chin, pulling out her phone to check her makeup. It was ColorStay, made for this sort of activity. Still perfect. “Did you make that yourself too? It looks a little loose.”

Michelle laughed nervously. “It’s custom.”

“Custom? But then…oh.” Anna raised one eyebrow. Michelle hid her face. Of course. All part of the roleplay. Her friend had gone so far as to get a custom top specifically to be just a little too large. Impressive dedication.

Arm-in-arm they walked down to the street, Michelle bubbly, handbag swinging, Anna, more demure. She opened the cab door for her date, all slow burn and chivalry. The driver glanced at the two of them without interest. His phone already displayed their route. He spoke quietly into a headset, too low to understand.

“So,” Anna said conversationally. “You’re shrinking.”

Michelle nodded, beaming.

“And you’re going to get… how small?”

“Five feet tall, just like you asked. Eve helped me measure the potency – I was very precise.”

Anna cocked her head. “Who’s Eve?”

“My um, gosh.” She laughed self-consciously. “I guess the technically correct term at this stage in our relationship is ‘mistress.’ But I’m sure I texted you about her, I mentioned her a bunch.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” She settled in, slipping her arm around Michelle, tilting her head so she could press her lips softly against the rim of her ear. “You know, we’ve been talking about this for months. But I’ve never asked. Why is this such a turn-on for you? The idea of being smaller.”

Michelle shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but didn’t pull away. “It wasn’t. I mean, not at first. You kind of made it that way, though. With all those texts. At first I just wanted to be able to date more easily. To not scare people off, and plus, as silly as it is, a part of me stills wants to be the shorter person in any relationship. You know how hard it is to find people taller six-four?”

Anna nodded, her nose brushing against Michelle’s neck. “You stayed with Tyler for almost a year, and as far as I could tell his only redeeming quality was that he was the tallest guy on the basketball team.”

“His cock was okay too.” Michelle gave a shaking little exhale as if remembering.

Anna squeezed her leg. “Ooo is someone getting all stirred up?”

Her friend nodded emphatically.

“Well,” Anna breathed. “It’s infectious. Maybe we’re both just thirsty. I haven’t been with anyone since Thomas, and honestly, he was a little lack-luster even at the best of times. It’s a sadly common trait among short guys. Though he did do as he was told.”

Michelle took Anna’s hand, gripping it hard. She was actually trembling. “I haven’t dated since Lisa, and that’s been almost two years. I loved her but, the height thing. She was six-one, but still, I just couldn’t compromise.”

“I’m sorry,” Anna said. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything painful.”

“It’s not. I’m okay. Anyway. You’re here now.”

“That’s right,” Anna replied, pulling her closer. “I’m here. And with these shoes of mine, you get to feel extra-special small for me tonight. So let’s pretend that you’re shrinking, sweetie. When we get home, I promise I know how to make you feel absolutely. Positively. Tiny.” Anna nibbled softly on her earlobe, ended by tugging gently.

Michelle moaned loud enough to make the driver glance at them in the mirror. The car was starting to smell distinctly of perfume and musk. “One thing though.”

“What’s that?” Anna growled.

Michelle started to reply, then bit her lip. “I’ll tell you when we get to the restaurant. We’re almost there.”

The car pulled up to the curb. Anna thanked the driver. He grunted. She followed her friend, stepping out onto the sidewalk, conscious to keep weight on her toes as she lifted up to her full height in her heels. Anna went to take Michelle by the shoulders, fully intending to kiss the girl speechless right there on the street corner. But Michelle was distracted, adjusting several little clasps along her skirt. She looked up at Anna, a guilty smile on her face.

Anna just stared.

Michelle posed, holding up her arms over her head so that the cuffs of her enormous shirt slipped up nearly to her elbows. She dropped them to her sides, let the sleeves hang loose over her hands. She twirled in place, nearly stepping out of her shoes, a giddy smile on her face.

“You’re–”

“Shrinking,” Michelle agreed. “What would you say, about five-eleven?” She made a show of measuring herself against her suddenly much taller date. The top of her head didn’t even quite reach Anna’s mouth. She stood on tip-toe, gave the woman a quick, chaste kiss. “On my way to five feet. I won’t quite get there during dinner.” She looked down at her feet, suddenly shy. “But I can’t wait for dessert.”

Anna was silent as they were led to their table, while they were handed their menus, and informed of the specials. Michelle couldn’t resist making near-continuous eye contact, a constant I-told-you-so to her slowly growing ex-roommate. For once Anna actually looked shy. She chewed her lip, fidgeting nervously with her dress as she watched Michelle slowly dwindle.

It was after they’d ordered drinks when she finally spoke. “So. Magic, huh?”

“Yup. Magic. There’s not a lot of money in it. But there are… other benefits.” Michelle tugged at her increasingly loose collar for emphasis. The experience of shrinking – she hadn’t expected it to feel so damn good! It was a bit like being drunk, though without any loss of function or wherewithal. Her senses of touch and smell seemed sharper. And earlier, when Anna had purred sensually in her ear, it had been all she could do to not scream with pleasure.

“Hm. So you’re actually going to get small, then? Neat. Like, five feet even you said? That’s small enough that I basically get to have my way with you. How interesting.”

Under the table, the edge of Anna’s heel brushed against Michelle’s calf. It was obviously deliberate, a sudden pressure against her sensitive skin. The heel shifted, pressing higher, harder. Michelle whimpered.

“You know I always had a crush on you. Back at school.” Anna didn’t bother to keep her voice down as she accepted her cocktail from the waiter. “There’s physical stuff, sure – you’re definitely my type, minus the whole Gigantea thing. But besides that. You have this quiet, unassuming confidence that I find very attractive. Yet you still manage to be shy around me, even when you’re fully a head taller. It always felt like you were trying to make yourself smaller. Metaphorically, I mean. It, well, stirred something in me. I think about what might have been sometimes. If our tastes in statures hadn’t been mutually exclusive.”

“Yeah….”

“But you found a way to address that, didn’t you? And going so far as to have your height made-to-order? Letting me tell you how small to get? I’m sure you remember how much I get off on bossing you around. Was that part of your intention? To give me the gift of controlling you?”

“Yeah….”

Michelle was having a hard time following this conversation. It was just a blur of inviting words, warm emotions. That ‘slightly drunk’ feeling was getting stronger the smaller she shrank, and Anna’s heel was well past the hem of her skirt now. She was incredibly conscious of how oversized her panties were growing, of the soft kiss of fresh air against her nether regions, of how easy it would be for the tip of that heel to slip wherever it wanted.

“God Michelle, I can actually see you shrinking.” Anna leaned closer, still speaking in full voice. “You’re already shorter than I ever was. Are you sure you aren’t going to be five feet tall until after dinner? Because at this rate….”

Michelle moaned – and shrank, in a sudden, dramatic burst. Several heads turned in their direction, as the dwindling girl lost three inches of height in the space of as many heartbeats.

“Hmph,” Anna grinned evilly. “The question stands, little lady. Unless that stops soon, projections aren’t in your favor.”

“This is, um, happening a bit fast, I’ll admit. Am I done? I’m not still shrinking after that. Am I?”

Slowly, Anna nodded. She sipped her drink. “Even faster. I think you might have taken a little overdose, sweetie. No matter. Tiny is already a good look on you – the smaller the better as far as I’m concerned. Plus I can tell how good it must feel. Your cheeks are all flushed. You have this delightful look of embarrassed need in your eyes. Plus that shirt is getting way, way–”

Anna’s monologue was cut off as she, too, moaned. And suddenly shrank. Not as much as Michelle had, no more than an inch. But it was enough. Her perfectly tailored dress hung loose around her shoulders, her large breasts no longer supported by the taut fabric.

The restaurant was very quiet now. Every other patron was either watching them, or scrupulously not watching.

“Bathroom!” Anna hissed. “Now!”

Michelle helped support her taller friend, who was suddenly having quite a bit of trouble walking in her enormous platforms. She was having footwear problems of her own – even her simple ballet flats were barely staying on her feet. She had to consciously flex her toes and ankles with each step, dragging them along more than walking in them. Michelle guessed she was about 5’4” now – the height of a normal person. The idea was thrilling, in a way. To be average. For the time being, with her heels, Anna had a full head of height on her. But with both of them apparently dwindling now, there was no way to tell how that might play out.

In the bathroom, Anna ran straight to the mirror. Michelle locked the door behind, and pulled out her phone.

Michelle: Hey sorry to bother you. Remember that shrinking potion I made?? I finally tried it, was SUPER careful with the dosing. I’m shrinking way faster than I should. Plus my friend is too now??? Ideas?

“What are you doing?” Anna shot a glance over her shoulder, then went back to a panicked assessment of her reflection.

“I’m texting my mist – I mean, my boss. Hopefully she’ll have some advice.”

Anna bit her lip, clamping her hands down on the edge of the sink. Another little pulse of shrinking went through her. The spaghetti strap of her dress slipped a bit further down her shoulder, as she lost another inch of height. “Antidote. Michelle. Tell me there’s an antidote!”

“If there is I never learned it. Wait!” she added, as Anna’s face contorted in anger. “It wears off! It’s like a twenty-four-hour kind of thing! Okay? What, did you think I wanted to be tiny for the rest of my life?”

Her shrinking friend relaxed a little at this. “I guess not.”

“You sound disappointed.” Michelle smirked, then balled her hands into fists, suppressing a moan as she shrank again. Her shoes were impossible now. She stepped out of them, flexed her toes, and walked barefoot across the cold tile floor to stand beside her friend. Now the top of her head just barely cleared Anna’s shoulder.

“I didn’t sign on to shrink tonight,” Anna grumbled. “The idea was for you to be the little one.”

“You’re still bigger than me,” Michelle said quietly. “Like. Way bigger than I expected tonight, what with your heels.”

The corner of Anna’s mouth turned up slightly. “You know, when you put it that way……”

Michelle’s phone chirped.

“Is that Eve? What’d she say?”

“Hold on.” Michelle frowned as she read. “That there’s a chance I didn’t have the cork on all the way, and some of the potion evaporated. So it was too concentrated. I made it a couple months ago, after all.”

The phone buzzed again. Michelle blushed. She typed in reply.

“What?”

“I guess… sometimes. Contact can spread the effects of potions. If it happens too soon after you take your dose. Like, mouth-to-mouth contact.”

“Mouth… oh.” Anna gave a guilty little laugh, and ruffled her friend’s hair. “I guess I did kind of pounce on you, huh?”

“Yeah….” The phone chirped again. Michelle sighed, then read aloud. “’I’ve got my own little visitor this weekend. Don’t bother me again unless it’s an emergency. Have fun you two! Kissy emoji, water drop emoji, eggplant emoji.’”

“Sounds like you have a fun work environment.” Anna grunted in annoyance as she shrank again. She seemed to take it in stride this time. “Do you have any idea how small I’m going to get?”

“No. You’ll probably shrink less than I will, if I had to guess. Then again, I started out a whole lot bigger….”

Anna scowled – then suddenly brightened. “Okay. But!”

She took Michelle by the shoulders, stood behind her, made her face the mirror. It was mounted high, and the smaller woman was shocked to find she could only just see the top half of her face. “When we came in, you were all the way up to the bottom of my chin.” Anna held her hand there to demonstrate. The position was several inches above the top of Michelle’s head. She dropped it slowly, giving the smaller girl a skritch. “Now? You’re barely up to my shoulders, cutie. Face it. Even if we’re both shrinking? You’re still shrinking faster.”

“You’re still in your heels, though!”

Her friend pursed her lips, considering this. With a dramatic sigh, she finally stepped out of her platforms – no need to even loosen the straps. She flexed her ankle, visibly relieved. Anna’s height had dropped precipitously. She was actually on the short side for a woman. Even so, Michelle could see in the mirror that her head was only level with the taller girl’s eyes.

“I may be short,” Anna growled. “But as long as I stay taller than you? I think I’ll manage.”

Anna kissed her then, touching her on the chin, making her crane her neck to meet her lips. She was clearly in no hurry, took her time to let Michelle melt into it. Her tongue teased, finally daring to slip into the smaller girl’s mouth. Michelle wasn’t surprised when another surge of pleasure announced she was shrinking again. Anna held her tighter, squeezing, almost as if it was the pressure that was forcing Michelle smaller. Hands at her side slipped delicately under her much-too-large button-up, past the waistband of her skirt.

“Is this okay?” Anna breathed.

Michelle nodded emphatically.

A large, soft hand drifted lower on her body. Her panties were impossibly huge on her now. Anna used the tip of her finger to nudge them, drawing a line around her hip, until they gave way and fell to pool at her feet. Michelle spread her legs obediently, leaning more of her weight against the suddenly amazonian girl, painfully aware of how fast she was shrinking now, how long this pulse was lasting. Anna scratched fingernails through the smooth curls of Michelle’s pubic hair, reaching lower…and lower….

The knob of the bathroom door jiggled suddenly. From outside, there came a polite little knock.

“Just a minute!” Anna called sweetly.

Michelle opened her eyes. She couldn’t even see her own reflection now – just Anna, smirking down at her. The girl was a giant! Michelle’s eyes were only just level with the long valley of her cleavage. It was quite a sight from this angle, especially since Anna was having a rather severe wardrobe malfunction. At some point during the kiss she’d obviously done some shrinking of her own.

“God, I can’t be much more than four feet tall.” Michelle tightened her skirt to its maximum, set to work rolling up her sleeves. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through dinner after that.”

Anna tied off her dress, tucking her hilariously large shoes under her arm. “You know it’s the darndest thing? I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Yeah…. Um. Do you, w-want to go back to my place?” Michelle’s voice was small, and very hopeful.

“Oh, but you know what I am in the mood for? Dancing! And there’s a club just down the street. A possibility I had planned, depending on how the evening went.”

Michelle gave a panicked little laugh. “But…but everyone will see me!”

“Uh-huh! And you’ll probably get even smaller while we’re there. But I’m suddenly in the mood to show you off to the whole world. To have everyone see me with my cute. Little. Girlfriend.”

It was the final word that won her over. Swallowing, Michelle took Anna’s hand, and let the petite giant lead her on.

Chapter 4

There was a woman checking IDs at the door, and she didn’t want to let Michelle in. She pointed out that her height definitely did not match her license. Anna turned all her unbridled charm on the woman, spinning a tragic tale about how hard life was for her friend, how no one thought someone who was four feet tall could possibly be a real woman. The pain, the webs of deception and self-denial, even going so far as to tell a preposterous lie about being six-four on her license application. But the bouncer – she understood, didn’t she? A few eyelash flutters later the two were inside, miraculously escaping notice that they were both barefoot.

The club was packed, and a ripple of interest followed the two petite women. Michelle let Anna pull her along, head in a fog. She was surrounded by giants! It was rare that anyone in a crowd would be taller, and certainly no one female. She was by far the shortest person in the room, and felt very much on display. In her previous life she was often the center of attention, but a powerful one. It made people hesitate to stare. At her new size, not a single person had any apprehension about gawking at her.

Anna, quite tiny herself at somewhere just above five feet, didn’t seem bothered by the attention in the slightest. She smirked, not evening acknowledging anyone in the room with the exception of Michelle, constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure the tiny woman was still following behind. With Anna a stone wall to the outside world, more and more people were watching Michelle, the smaller and much more diffident of the pair. She could feel their attention like a physical weight. It made her warm and shameful, gave her an unfamiliar sense of helplessness. She had to admit, the novelty of the sensation, of being the smallest of the small, was kind of hot.

Okay – very hot.

A purple-haired tattooed giantess who must be nearly five seven bumped into Michelle, narrowly avoiding spilling beer all over the tiny girl. The woman looked around, trying to find the person she’d collided with…and finally looked down. Their eyes met. In a sudden shock, Michelle’s ingrained affinity for people who were taller than her made all the alarm bells start ringing in her head. She froze like a deer in the headlights. The woman stepped closer, apologizing, but Anna was tugging her on.

“It’s okay!” she called. “Her outfit’s ruined anyway.”

The woman gave her a flirty wave, but then she was gone.

Giants banged into her, again and again. Dozens of times people almost tromped on her poor bare feet with their terrifying heels and stilettos. The world was a jumble of shoulders and elbows, chests and backs. She couldn’t see more than a couple of feet in any direction. Bodies everywhere, her vision blocked by the display of titanic physical form. Halter tops and bikinis above her head. Curves and bulges barely concealed by jeans and tight leather pants.

Every single one set off Michelle’s old dopamine pathway, her brain screaming out again and again in exhalation: “SOMEONE IS TALLER!” And the smell of them, how had she never noticed it before? Sweat and excitement, the air thick with pheromones.

Her friend seemed unaffected by this. Even when Anna had to pause for a moment as she lost another inch of height in a little burst. Her confidence never wavered as she pushed them past the crowd, to the dance floor, to a bright little clearing in the center.

They danced. There was no form to it, no structure. She moved, let Anna move her. The two miniature women orbited each other on the floor, at times separated by almost ten feet, at times so close that Michelle could feel the heat of Anna’s breath on her face. Here, people were conscious of her movements. No one bumped her, though many came provocatively, deliciously close. The woman with the tattoos was there, smoldering and enormous, hips thrusting suggestively as Michelle danced past. She let herself flow with the gravitation of all of these giants, always coming back to Anna, the star at the center of the universe. Far from the largest. But the one with more attraction than all the rest combined.

She shrank again, as the bass throbbed through her body, the sound of her pleasure lost in the music. Anna caught her hand, grinning evilly as she dropped lower. Even at its tightest, her skirt couldn’t keep up with how small she was now, and it fell into a puddle at her feet. The fitted shirt was a dress on her now, hanging well past her knees. Anna provocatively stuck out her thigh, and without thinking Michelle spread her legs and ground herself against it. The scent of her own arousal came to her, sharp and sweet.

Song after song they danced, time meaningless. Anna’s face was high above, smirking with approval, locks of auburn hair clinging wetly to her forehead. The girl towered over her still, but even as over-stimulated as she was, Michelle could tell their heights were still changing. Pulse. Anna’s mouth open in an unheard moan as she dwindled. Pulse. Anna laughing and the crowd cheering, while she calmly slipped her left breast back beneath the laughably huge dress, and tied the garment even tighter. Pulse. And Pulse. And Pulse.

The tattooed girl was there now, pigtails askew. The three of them danced together in a triangle, the giant woman’s heavy boots threatening but agile. Anna was still taller, but barely – not towering over her much more than Yuan had, on that night long ago. Both tiny women moved and swayed beneath the protective gaze of the giantess, letting her carve out space for them where no other would intrude. Anna communicated something by eye to their temporary goddess, and then Michelle felt giant hands take her by the shoulders. The tattooed woman pulled Michelle against her body, snuggled her head beneath perky little breasts, an enormous pelvic bone pressing against the center of her back. Then Anna was there, adding her own hands, and body, and lips. Michelle writhed with the music, with the ecstasy of it, surrounded by colossal walls of femininity. The sensation, the celestial bliss of it was all too much. She felt herself going limp as a sudden upwelling took her by surprise. The two larger women held her, cradled her, as she came. No one had even touched her beneath her clothes.

Their titaness friend helped them outside, called them a cab. Anna thanked her, gave her a business card. The sight was hilarious, in a cosmic sense – the professionalism of it, while Anna was now probably less than four feet tall, with a dress a dozen sizes too large draped haphazardly over her tiny frame. Articulating this was beyond her for the moment. For that matter, so was laughter. She let the two larger women help her into the backseat of the car, and smiled as their friend waved goodbye. Michelle had never asked her name.

She was too small to properly use a seatbelt, and Anna let her put her head in her lap. Michelle relaxed, ears still ringing, her entire body buzzing from the weight of sensation she had experienced. Anna smiled reassuringly down at her, gently stroking her hair. “You burned out for tonight, cutie?”

“Mmm, what?” Michelle blinked, looking up at her. Even after everything that had happened tonight, she still got a bit of a thrill seeing Anna actually larger than her. Though she had to admit, it was less of a crisp feeling now. Everyone in the club had been so much bigger, after all. And Anna had lost a great majority of her height advantage after her long bout of shrinking. It made her a little sad, that the best was over. “No, I just need a little aftercare, is all. Maybe a cup of Earl Grey when we get back to my place.”

Anna lightly brushed a few stray locks of blonde hair from Michelle’s forehead. “That sounds nice, as stimulants go. But I think I have a better idea.”

“What?”

The larger woman didn’t answer. In the dim orange glow of the passing street lamps, Anna was grinning.

Her apartment was huge now. Michelle couldn’t believe she had ever been large enough to live here. The countertops reached almost up to her shoulders; the chairs so high that she’d need to hoist herself bodily into them, and even then her feet would dangle well above the floor. Anna patiently allowed her a moment of wonder. “You know. If you’d started out the evening this small? Compared to me, I mean. I would have been more than satisfied. I guess you look about five foot three right now, relatively speaking. Does that sound right?”

“Yeah….”

“But five three isn’t even that short, by my standards. Especially not for a woman. And I saw you much, much smaller than that tonight, before I shrank enough to catch up. It’s a bit of a let-down. Do you agree?”

Michelle was beginning to see where this was going. She felt herself growing excited.

Warm lips pressed against her ear, followed by a honeysuckle voice that made her let out an involuntary whimper. “Do you have more of that shrinking potion?”

“Yes!” she cried at once.

Anna reached around, rested her hand against Michelle’s chest. One by one, she undid the buttons of her massively oversized top. With dreamlike slowness, she pulled it from the smaller girl like a cloak – leaving her utterly naked before her friend.

“Go get it,” Anna ordered, and gave her butt a playful tap.

At once she scurried to obey.

The vial of potion was on the bottom shelf of her medicine cabinet. Michelle strained, found that even at her maximum height she couldn’t reach. Anna, who had been following along behind, scoffed at her efforts. The taller woman stood on tip toe, swatting with her hand… and was also too short to reach.

Unthinking, Michelle laughed – and immediately clamped her hand over her mouth in horror.

Anna turned, her expression death. Arms crossed over her chest, she stood toe-to-toe with Michelle, glaring at her with more authentic anger than she had ever seen on Anna’s face.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! You’re still bigger! You are! But, you’re… small too and…it…it was funny….”

Her taller friend opened the cabinet under the sink, stood on the ledge, gripped the faucet for support. She looked absolutely ridiculous, but humor was the last thing on Michelle’s mind. A couple of swipes, and Anna just barely managed to grasp the bottle with the tips of her fingers. She unscrewed the dropper, and pointed it like a dagger toward Michelle’s lips.

“Drink,” she commanded darkly.

The miniscule blonde hesitated, looking at the dropper full of thick, absinthe-colored liquid. “Um. How…how much smaller do you want me?”

Anna looked like she wanted to simply stick the whole tube in Michelle’s mouth and squeeze – and then maybe upend the bottle on her for good measure.

“It’s really powerful,” Michelle said timidly. “I could shrink to nothing.”

Anna took a deep breath. Then another, clearly trying to force herself to calm down. “How much did you take earlier tonight?”

“Three drops.”

Eyes still narrowed, the larger woman pressed the glass tip to Michelle’s lip. “Open.”

Michelle did, closing her eyes. The potion, when it came, was bitter. It evaporated quickly on her tongue, giving it an astringent quality that was not entirely unpleasant. She counted the drops. One. Two. A long paused. Finally, a third.

Anna made her brush her teeth afterward, watching her rinse thoroughly to make sure every stray drop was gone. By the time she finished, she could already feel herself changing. Anna reached out, taking her by the hand. In the other, she still held the bottle.

Conclusion

It took a long time to manage the doorknob to her room, and even longer to climb up into bed. Both women were flushed with exertion and laughing by the time they made it. They lay together beneath the sheets, holding each other, gazing into each other’s eyes. Soon came kissing. And then they rolled together without plan or purpose, Anna always careful not to overwhelm the tiny woman, Michelle always eager to be overwhelmed.

A tiny hand against Anna’s breast, squeezing and grasping. An enormous finger tracing the edges of Michelle’s butt. Soft moans and squeaks and affirmations.

The two-foot-tall giantess lay with her head just beneath the pillow, luxuriating in the enormous bed, as her teensy lover crawled down the length of her body beneath the covers. Unseen, delicate little lips kissed their way down her thigh. It tickled. Anna giggled happily, twitching, unable to hold still. She felt Michelle try to hold her leg in place with the weight of her entire body, felt her abandon the Herculean task, felt her slide down her long thigh to the very center of her.

“Aw, is my little dumpling going to try and get me off? Well don’t be too disappointed if I’m too much woman for… ahhhh holy fucking shit Michelle!”

Anna’s hands balled into fists, gripping the comforter for dear life as Michelle’s tiny tongue explored. She couldn’t recall ever being this wet, ever being this close to the edge from so little stimulation. At half her size, the tiny girl seemed perfectly suited to find each and every one of Anna’s sweet spots. A whole hand slipped easily inside, pulled out, teased for a moment, began to slowly thrust. A small mouth closed over her aching clit, and tugged on her ever so gently.

It went on, and on. Anna thought she shrank, just a little, toward the beginning. At this point it was only another note in the symphony of pleasure she found herself caught up in. It was clear Michelle was trying to start slow with her, to build to the real main event, but her body was so keyed up that even the teasing was enough to get her off. She had the fleeting thought that she should start counting orgasms, because this felt like it was shaping up to be an all-time record, but then thinking failed her. Her body thrashed uncontrollably, the poor little girl between her thighs holding on for dear life, covered in sweat and panting with exertion. Yet Michelle’s training as an athlete came through. Again and again she climbed back atop the larger woman, and even kept finding ways to increase the intensity, long past the point that Anna thought she was at her limit.

Eventually she took pity on the tiny girl, and decided to give her a breather. Anna threw the blankets off, revealing a red-faced and disheveled little Michelle. Her hair was askew, her tiny face and chest slick with Anna’s juices.

“Hey there cutie. Where’s your vibrator?”

It was in the night stand, of course. The two-foot giantess leaned her body out dangerously over the edge of the bed, and after several attempts managed to tug the drawer open. There it was. Michelle’s little friend wasn’t that large, all things considered. A bullet-style vibrator, that looked more built for clit stimulation than anything else. Anna still needed both hands to lift it. She lay it down on the bed before her tiny paramour, like a triumphant hunter returning home.

Michelle looked at it, alarmed. At her current size, the idea that the enormous toy could fit inside her was laughable. To the little munchkin it must seem at least eighteen inches long, and nearly as thick as her thigh. “What, um, are you planning to do with that, exactly?”

“You’ll see. Trust me?”

The pint-sized girl nodded at once.

“Then lay down. Right there. On your back, arms at your sides, legs apart. I’ve wanted to do this to you for years. Maybe not quite like this, but….”

Michelle obediently laid down, looking nervously up at the giantess.

Anna carefully straddled the tiny woman. She positioned herself with her butt toward the mini-girl’s face, putting her legs on either side of Michelle’s chest, using her thighs to pin the woman’s arms to her side. She slowly eased herself backward, until her downy pubic hair just barely tickled against Michelle’s chin.

“You were doing such a good job,” she purred. “I didn’t want you to stop. But you seemed like you deserved a break. Or a reward. So. Have both.”

Very, very delicately, she leaned back, until she felt her slit press against Michelle’s nose. At once the diminutive girl responded, her tender little tongue drawing a line over Anna’s labia. The bigger girl dropped a hand to the mattress, supporting herself under the sudden onrush of pleasure. Gritting her teeth, she held the giant toy aloft, and turned on the vibe function. She lowered it, like thrusting a sword into a stone, and let the soft silicone head rest between the miniature girl’s legs, the tip barely touching her groin.

Their cries mingled together: Michelle’s muffled; Anna’s clear as a bell. She ground against the girl as lightly as her need would allow, feeling her essence coating her little lover. A goddess baptizing her chosen. The vibrator was so powerful she could feel its effects through Michelle’s entire body, all the way to the tip of her tongue. She came. And came. At one point Michelle squirted – almost alarming hard, her body arching as though she’d been touched by a live wire. Anna started to pull the vibrator away, to let her recover, but Michelle’s immediate cry of frustration told her this was unnecessary.

At last, exhausted, they lay together. For a time, both were too overheated to want close contact. But they cooled fast at this size, and soon they came back to the natural state that exists between two people who never wish to be parted. There, with Michelle as as littlest of the little spoons, they slept.

In the morning, they were bigger. But, as Anna pointed out, not nearly big enough. She bullied Michelle into tracking down a tape measure before the poor woman could even make herself a cup of coffee.

“That is seriously going to take like half an hour at your size. Measure first. Caffeine later.”

Anna marked off Michelle’s height first, looked dissatisfied. She checked it again. Then she stood with her back against the wall while Michelle stood on a chair, grimly determined to stand as straight as possible, without cheating on her tip toes.

“Four feet, four inches,” Michelle reported. She successfully kept the laughter from her voice. It was evident in her eyes.

Anna scowled. “It’s better than three eight, Shorty.”

Michelle shrugged, gracefully jumping from the chair with all the poise of a ballerina. “Whatever! I’m comfortable with it. Plus? Based on where we ended up last night? I’m growing back faster. I bet it won’t be long before I’m looking down at you again.”

“Don’t count your chickens. I’m still a hell of a lot bigger than you. Keep teasing me about this and you might regret it.”

“Threaten me with a good time.” Michelle stuck out her tongue. “Anyway, relax. I said it was a twenty-four-hour thing. I took my first dose just before seven last night. So we’ve got all day. Want to go for brunch? Maybe show off your cute little girlfriend? Huh?”

“I think I’d rather stay in, thanks all the same.”

“That’s fine. As long as we get to be together, I’m happy.”

The smaller girl hugged her then, fitting herself easily into the crook of Anna’s chin, finding the space as easily as slipping in a puzzle piece. Michelle was warm against her, the wordless simplicity of her embrace leaving no room for argument.

Anna sighed. And hugged her back.

They made breakfast together – coffee and cereal and sliced fruit, since using the stove was out of the question. Michelle insisted that Anna eat at the table, and she waited on the larger woman like an unobtrusive little waitress. She had to admit, it was cute. Even if her bare feet were dangling high above the cold kitchen floor, the spoon awkwardly large in her hand, Michelle’s subservience gave her a sense a power. The way the smaller woman snapped to attention when she asked for more cream, or another slice of cantaloupe. And then with her task complete, faded into the background like the perfect little assistant.

They snuggled on the couch, completely ignoring the movie they’d spent half an hour agreeing upon, their conversation not missing a beat as it droned on. Eventually they found other distractions, beneath a giant woolen blanket. Teensy feet stuck out from beneath, and Michelle whined that Anna was a blanket-hog. But by then, neither were cold enough to need it.

They made lunch. They took turns showering. They watched another movie. Finally they made love in Michelle’s bed again, as the light outside turned low and orange, and the peace of a Sunday evening overtook the city.

By the time it was full dark, Anna had grown to four and a half feet tall. Michelle was still four feet on the dot. Neither number had increased since noon.

Sunday, June 21st, 10:14pm
Michelle: Really REALLY sorry to bother you. I think this is an emergency. We’re kind of stuck in junior-petite mode. Help?

Eve: Neat.

Eve: Called it.

Michelle: ???

Eve: Your potion didn’t evaporate. Sorry. I said that was a POSSIBLE explanation, not the most likely. It’s not technically a lie, and I was busy. Anyway you probably enjoyed the night more. Not knowing the truth.

Michelle: …

Michelle: Okay I know you like to be dramatic, but you’re seriously scaring me.

Eve: Magic is 85% horticulture. Just knowing the right plants, following the recipe. What is the rest? Think.

Eve: I told you.

Eve: The words aren’t important….

Eve: It’s the….

Michelle: Want

Eve: Good job! I’ll bring you a cookie tomorrow. Looking forward to a half-pint assistant.

Michelle: Fix this?

Eve: No. But I’ll teach you how. It’ll be easy.

Eve: If you actually want it fixed

“She’s a treat,” Anna said, resting her chin on Michelle’s shoulder as she read. “Do I get to meet her?”

“I’ll take you to the office tomorrow. Wait til you see how she decorated. You’re not mad?”

Anna thought about it. “I guess not. As long as you’re smaller than me, that’s all I need. Anyway I’ve got some vacation time saved up, and I’m due for a sabbatical. It’s short notice. No pun intended.”

Michelle groaned. And kissed her.

@Olo

Chapter 5

Anna led the slowly dwindling girl back to the living room. Michelle’s head was really starting to spin. The pleasant, more-than-slightly-drunk arousal of the potion was hitting her hard, making it nearly impossible to think straight. Her palms were sweaty. The tiny hairs on the back of her arms and neck stood on end.

“Know what I noticed earlier?” Anna asked in a dark voice. “On the dance floor? That physical exertion makes your little shrinking potion work faster. It makes sense. Your heart pounds, your blood flows. You metabolize it faster.”

“Anna, please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry I laughed. I wasn’t thinking.”

The larger woman suddenly placed her hand in the center of Michelle’s chest. She pressed, forcing her back step by step, until the smaller girl felt herself pinned against the couch. Anna held her there with all her weight, smirking mercilessly.

“Struggle.”

Michelle did. She wrapped both hands around the larger girl’s wrist, set herself against the couch, pushed back with all her might. At first, she was succeeding, actually pushing Anna away… but then she moaned, and felt a wave of ecstasy pass through her body. She dwindled, her head slipping lower than the back of the couch.

Anna laughed cruelly. “Try again.”

It was harder this time, so much harder. Anna was getting so heavy, and every bit of her weight was on Michelle. She could hardly breathe, but still she struggled, beads of sweat appearing at her temples, legs shaking. She could feel it building again, and building, until she cried out in pleasure, let herself go limp as she shrank in a giant burst. Michelle watched in mingled elation and horror as Anna seemed to grow, a predatory smirk on the giant woman’s lips. Before she was merely ‘tall’ to her… now Michelle felt utterly dwarfed. Her head barely reached Anna’s armpits, and she was still shrinking so fast. It was utterly hopeless to fight.

Anna gave her a long moment, enjoying herself as the realization came over Michelle, letting her accept this. Then, finally, she released her.

The larger woman reached down, and stroked her thumb gently across Michelle’s lips. “Open.”

Michelle did, knowing what was about to happen, her body frozen with longing and fear.

The giant girl unscrewed the vial, held out the dropper.

Michelle leaned forward, took the glass tip in her mouth, and sucked.

“Good girl.” A single bitter drop fell on her tongue.

“Swallow,” Anna said, though Michelle already had.

She made Michelle open her mouth to confirm that it was all gone. Once satisfied, she gave Michelle a demeaning little pat on the head.

“Why of course all is forgiven, cutie. I know it was a simple mistake, that you’d never intentionally laugh at me.” Suddenly Anna was all sweetness and nice, her tone insultingly childish. It was hateful, but it also made Michelle’s cheeks flush with heat… which only made her shrink faster.

“Now then. You still have a lot of shrinking to do, but I think there are more pleasant ways to get your heart racing. Would you like to explore those, little girl? Instead of wrestling with your big, sexy girlfriend?”

Michelle felt tears of happiness at the corners of her eyes. Meekly, she nodded.

The larger woman led Michelle to her easy chair. She felt so impossibly small before it, as if it was the altar of some nameless goddess. It towered high above, far too large for someone as tiny as she. Had she ever actually been big enough for that chair? It seemed impossible.

“Up.”

Michelle did her best to climb into the seat. It took her three tries. On the first, a sudden pulse of shrinking made her miss her grip on the armrest. The second, she failed when her growing friend kept pinching and massaging her bare little ass while she was trying to climb. She barely succeeded on the third, before the most powerful bolt of shrinking yet coursed through her eager little body. Michelle arched her back, fingers digging into the fabric as she shrank three more inches, her hips thrusting forward in slow, suggestive circles. Unthinking she cried out, no longer able to deny the feelings welling up inside her. “More! So good…fuck! Please more, Anna! Please make me smaller!”

“God, I love you.”

Michelle turned in shock, found Anna staring back at her with an identical expression of surprise. She suddenly looked terribly embarrassed.

“I know, it was a slip.” Michelle’s voice was very small. “Just a thing people say. You didn’t mean it… like that.”

Anna shrugged guiltily. “I mean. I….” She took a deep breath. And smiled. “Is it okay if I did? If I’ve like, loved you, I mean. For a like a really long time? College was a long time ago, and we never even dated? But…. And you don’t have to feel the same way, but….”

Michelle crawled on her knees to the edge of the couch, and embraced her giant friend. Anna appeared to be at least eight feet tall to her, but for now, that hardly mattered. She hugged her, little arms squeezing with all their might. On her tip toes, Anna was almost the right height for this – only a little too short. When a moment later Michelle shrank again, they were a perfect fit. Anna touched the smaller girl on the cheek, turning her, until their lips were as close as they could possibly be without touching.

“You can’t kiss me yet,” Michelle whispered, staring into Anna’s eyes, vision blurred by tears. “It’s too soon. You’ll shrink.”

Anna kissed her. She kissed Michelle with a savage, unrelenting passion, as though she channeled every bit of emotion held in trust for all the years she’d been apart. Michelle found herself being pushed back, as Anna maintained the kiss even as she tried to climb into the chair to join her. The larger woman made it in two tries.

The space felt cozy, with the two of them. Anna paused a moment to undo the makeshift ties on her massive dress. Michelle sat up straight in the back of the chair, while her much larger friend undressed before her. She felt utterly in awe. She realized that in all the time they had pined for each other, even in the years they’d been roommates, it was the first time Michelle had ever seen Anna without her clothes. Her body, the proportions of her, the pliant firmness and gentle curvature. She would have been magnificent, even if she hadn’t appeared nine feet tall and growing.

Anna shrank then. Just a little. A tiny pulse that widened her eyes, elicited a soft coo of acceptance. Michelle’s body responded in kind at once, as though she’d willed herself to shrink and stay smaller – edged on by the erotic sight, or perhaps a consuming need to reassure Anna that she was the big one for tonight. Her own bout of shrinking was much more dramatic, several inches melting away over the span of nearly ten seconds. She cried and moaned, looking up at the other girl with her mouth open wide. One hand massaged Anna’s thigh with a hungry desperation. The other crept closer to the place where her own legs came together, drawn by magnetism and instinct.

But Giant Anna grinned, and shook her head. “Let me.”

With hardly any effort, she lifted the tiny girl, cradled her against her chest like a small child, sat down with Michelle across her lap. The smaller woman allowed herself to be manipulated, exposed completely before Anna, her entire body tingling with desire and need for the miniature giantess who held her.

Anna took her time. Stroking her ears, and neck. Massaging both of her breasts in turn with a single giant hand, allowing the nipples to roll beneath the flat of her palm, then the tips of her fingers. Tracing the dull edge of her nails down Michelle’s thigh, making the girl open to her through nothing more than the simple forces of romantic gravity.

Twice Anna shrank in the midst of this, moaning with her lips pressed to the top of Michelle’s head, and each time was obliged to shift the suddenly larger but still miniscule woman in her lap.

The auburn-haired goddess was orbiting the rim of Michelle’s sex now, bringing her finger closer with each pass. She throbbed, ached for attention, but always Anna would pull away at the last second. The first gentle stroke against her labia made the tiny girl scream and shrink, as the contact nearly send Michelle over the edge. From high above Anna laughed, lightly wetting her fingertip in the soaking folds of the tiny girl’s pussy. And then, as light as a feather, Anna began to pet her swollen little clit. The shrinking girl dug her hands into her giant lover, trembling from the effort to stay still. She gulped and coughed, sounds coming out of her mouth that were all senseless amalgams of g’s and m’s and o’s.

“You want to cum for me, sweetie?”

“Yes! Please!”

“Shrink for me.”

Michelle swallowed, and obeyed, not even for a moment considering how she had done this.

“Say please again. Keep saying it.”

“Please Anna, please make me cum. Please, please… please!”

The shift was subtle. A little more pressure, a tiny increase in speed. That was all it took. Afterward that first orgasm there was another right on its heels, and then another. Anna cradled the little girl in her arms, shifting her to new positions as she shrank so she could pleasure her in new ways. An enormous index finger sliding in, and out, while her inner muscles twitched and spasmed against its enormity. Two fingers, one against her clitoris and another on her perineum, moving in fast matching ovals. A giant thumb massaging her entire vulva, flicking back and forth while little flecks of wetness spurted out in all directions. Each position lasted only a few seconds – could last only a few seconds, before Michelle was shrieking and cumming and shrinking again.

When Michelle could take it no more, she lay curled protectively in Anna’s lap, her heart fluttering, gasping for air. The giantess pet her, shushed her. “It’s alright sweetie, it’s alright.” Her voice was sensual, and terribly deep. “You’re okay. I’m here. Right here. Just relax.”

The tiny woman allowed herself to drift as her lover reassured her, but then she stirred. “Don’t… let me go to sleep. I still…want to get you off.”

Anna hugged her a bit tighter. “Yeah? You think you can handle me? You’re pretty tiny, kiddo.”

“I wanna try. Real bad.”

The two girls helped each other climb down from the chair. Michelle supported Anna first, counter-balancing the larger woman for the surprisingly large drop to the floor. The mini-giant looked a little embarrassed by the whole affair. Michelle edged up until her butt was on the edge of the enormous seat, and let the giant girl lift her down to the floor.
Michelle took a moment to get her bearings in her cavernous apartment. It was a place of mystery and wonder at her new height. She was probably more than a foot tall, but if so, not by much.
“I see you’re enjoying your trip to tiny town.”
Michelle looked up – and gasped. A deep instinct made her take a step away from the titaness before her, which was pointless, since she immediately collided with the chair.

Anna appeared to be almost twelve feet tall, despite being laughable diminutive in her own right. She reached far, far down, and took the much smaller girl by the hand. “Where’s your bedroom?”

Chapter 4

There was a woman checking IDs at the door, and she didn’t want to let Michelle in. She pointed out that her height definitely did not match her license. Anna turned all her unbridled charm on the woman, spinning a tragic tale about how hard life was for her friend, how no one thought someone who was four feet tall could possibly be a real woman. The pain, the webs of deception and self-denial, even going so far as to tell a preposterous lie about being six-four on her license application. But the bouncer – she understood, didn’t she? A few eyelash flutters later the two were inside, miraculously escaping notice that they were both barefoot.

The club was packed, and a ripple of interest followed the two petite women. Michelle let Anna pull her along, head in a fog. She was surrounded by giants! It was rare that anyone in a crowd would be taller, and certainly no one female. She was by far the shortest person in the room, and felt very much on display. In her previous life she was often the center of attention, but a powerful one. It made people hesitate to stare. At her new size, not a single person had any apprehension about gawking at her.

Anna, quite tiny herself at somewhere just above five feet, didn’t seem bothered by the attention in the slightest. She smirked, not evening acknowledging anyone in the room with the exception of Michelle, constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure the tiny woman was still following behind. With Anna a stone wall to the outside world, more and more people were watching Michelle, the smaller and much more diffident of the pair. She could feel their attention like a physical weight. It made her warm and shameful, gave her an unfamiliar sense of helplessness. She had to admit, the novelty of the sensation, of being the smallest of the small, was kind of hot.

Okay – very hot.

A purple-haired tattooed giantess who must be nearly five seven bumped into Michelle, narrowly avoiding spilling beer all over the tiny girl. The woman looked around, trying to find the person she’d collided with…and finally looked down. Their eyes met. In a sudden shock, Michelle’s ingrained affinity for people who were taller than her made all the alarm bells start ringing in her head. She froze like a deer in the headlights. The woman stepped closer, apologizing, but Anna was tugging her on.

“It’s okay!” she called. “Her outfit’s ruined anyway.”

The woman gave her a flirty wave, but then she was gone.

Giants banged into her, again and again. Dozens of times people almost tromped on her poor bare feet with their terrifying heels and stilettos. The world was a jumble of shoulders and elbows, chests and backs. She couldn’t see more than a couple of feet in any direction. Bodies everywhere, her vision blocked by the display of titanic physical form. Halter tops and bikinis above her head. Curves and bulges barely concealed by jeans and tight leather pants.

Every single one set off Michelle’s old dopamine pathway, her brain screaming out again and again in exhalation: “SOMEONE IS TALLER!” And the smell of them, how had she never noticed it before? Sweat and excitement, the air thick with pheromones.

Her friend seemed unaffected by this. Even when Anna had to pause for a moment as she lost another inch of height in a little burst. Her confidence never wavered as she pushed them past the crowd, to the dance floor, to a bright little clearing in the center.

They danced. There was no form to it, no structure. She moved, let Anna move her. The two miniature women orbited each other on the floor, at times separated by almost ten feet, at times so close that Michelle could feel the heat of Anna’s breath on her face. Here, people were conscious of her movements. No one bumped her, though many came provocatively, deliciously close. The woman with the tattoos was there, smoldering and enormous, hips thrusting suggestively as Michelle danced past. She let herself flow with the gravitation of all of these giants, always coming back to Anna, the star at the center of the universe. Far from the largest. But the one with more attraction than all the rest combined.

She shrank again, as the bass throbbed through her body, the sound of her pleasure lost in the music. Anna caught her hand, grinning evilly as she dropped lower. Even at its tightest, her skirt couldn’t keep up with how small she was now, and it fell into a puddle at her feet. The fitted shirt was a dress on her now, hanging well past her knees. Anna provocatively stuck out her thigh, and without thinking Michelle spread her legs and ground herself against it. The scent of her own arousal came to her, sharp and sweet.

Song after song they danced, time meaningless. Anna’s face was high above, smirking with approval, locks of auburn hair clinging wetly to her forehead. The girl towered over her still, but even as over-stimulated as she was, Michelle could tell their heights were still changing. Pulse. Anna’s mouth open in an unheard moan as she dwindled. Pulse. Anna laughing and the crowd cheering, while she calmly slipped her left breast back beneath the laughably huge dress, and tied the garment even tighter. Pulse. And Pulse. And Pulse.

The tattooed girl was there now, pigtails askew. The three of them danced together in a triangle, the giant woman’s heavy boots threatening but agile. Anna was still taller, but barely – not towering over her much more than Yuan had, on that night long ago. Both tiny women moved and swayed beneath the protective gaze of the giantess, letting her carve out space for them where no other would intrude. Anna communicated something by eye to their temporary goddess, and then Michelle felt giant hands take her by the shoulders. The tattooed woman pulled Michelle against her body, snuggled her head beneath perky little breasts, an enormous pelvic bone pressing against the center of her back. Then Anna was there, adding her own hands, and body, and lips. Michelle writhed with the music, with the ecstasy of it, surrounded by colossal walls of femininity. The sensation, the celestial bliss of it was all too much. She felt herself going limp as a sudden upwelling took her by surprise. The two larger women held her, cradled her, as she came. No one had even touched her beneath her clothes.

Their titaness friend helped them outside, called them a cab. Anna thanked her, gave her a business card. The sight was hilarious, in a cosmic sense – the professionalism of it, while Anna was now probably less than four feet tall, with a dress a dozen sizes too large draped haphazardly over her tiny frame. Articulating this was beyond her for the moment. For that matter, so was laughter. She let the two larger women help her into the backseat of the car, and smiled as their friend waved goodbye. Michelle had never asked her name.

She was too small to properly use a seatbelt, and Anna let her put her head in her lap. Michelle relaxed, ears still ringing, her entire body buzzing from the weight of sensation she had experienced. Anna smiled reassuringly down at her, gently stroking her hair. “You burned out for tonight, cutie?”

“Mmm, what?” Michelle blinked, looking up at her. Even after everything that had happened tonight, she still got a bit of a thrill seeing Anna actually larger than her. Though she had to admit, it was less of a crisp feeling now. Everyone in the club had been so much bigger, after all. And Anna had lost a great majority of her height advantage after her long bout of shrinking. It made her a little sad, that the best was over. “No, I just need a little aftercare, is all. Maybe a cup of Earl Grey when we get back to my place.”

Anna lightly brushed a few stray locks of blonde hair from Michelle’s forehead. “That sounds nice, as stimulants go. But I think I have a better idea.”

“What?”

The larger woman didn’t answer. In the dim orange glow of the passing street lamps, Anna was grinning.

Her apartment was huge now. Michelle couldn’t believe she had ever been large enough to live here. The countertops reached almost up to her shoulders; the chairs so high that she’d need to hoist herself bodily into them, and even then her feet would dangle well above the floor. Anna patiently allowed her a moment of wonder. “You know. If you’d started out the evening this small? Compared to me, I mean. I would have been more than satisfied. I guess you look about five foot three right now, relatively speaking. Does that sound right?”

“Yeah….”

“But five three isn’t even that short, by my standards. Especially not for a woman. And I saw you much, much smaller than that tonight, before I shrank enough to catch up. It’s a bit of a let-down. Do you agree?”

Michelle was beginning to see where this was going. She felt herself growing excited.

Warm lips pressed against her ear, followed by a honeysuckle voice that made her let out an involuntary whimper. “Do you have more of that shrinking potion?”

“Yes!” she cried at once.

Anna reached around, rested her hand against Michelle’s chest. One by one, she undid the buttons of her massively oversized top. With dreamlike slowness, she pulled it from the smaller girl like a cloak – leaving her utterly naked before her friend.

“Go get it,” Anna ordered, and gave her butt a playful tap.

At once she scurried to obey.

The vial of potion was on the bottom shelf of her medicine cabinet. Michelle strained, found that even at her maximum height she couldn’t reach. Anna, who had been following along behind, scoffed at her efforts. The taller woman stood on tip toe, swatting with her hand… and was also too short to reach.

Unthinking, Michelle laughed – and immediately clamped her hand over her mouth in horror.

Anna turned, her expression death. Arms crossed over her chest, she stood toe-to-toe with Michelle, glaring at her with more authentic anger than she had ever seen on Anna’s face.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! You’re still bigger! You are! But, you’re… small too and…it…it was funny….”

Her taller friend opened the cabinet under the sink, stood on the ledge, gripped the faucet for support. She looked absolutely ridiculous, but humor was the last thing on Michelle’s mind. A couple of swipes, and Anna just barely managed to grasp the bottle with the tips of her fingers. She unscrewed the dropper, and pointed it like a dagger toward Michelle’s lips.

“Drink,” she commanded darkly.

The miniscule blonde hesitated, looking at the dropper full of thick, absinthe-colored liquid. “Um. How…how much smaller do you want me?”

Anna looked like she wanted to simply stick the whole tube in Michelle’s mouth and squeeze – and then maybe upend the bottle on her for good measure.

“It’s really powerful,” Michelle said timidly. “I could shrink to nothing.”

Anna took a deep breath. Then another, clearly trying to force herself to calm down. “How much did you take earlier tonight?”

“Three drops.”

Eyes still narrowed, the larger woman pressed the glass tip to Michelle’s lip. “Open.”

Michelle did, closing her eyes. The potion, when it came, was bitter. It evaporated quickly on her tongue, giving it an astringent quality that was not entirely unpleasant. She counted the drops. One. Two. A long paused. Finally, a third.

Anna made her brush her teeth afterward, watching her rinse thoroughly to make sure every stray drop was gone. By the time she finished, she could already feel herself changing. Anna reached out, taking her by the hand. In the other, she still held the bottle.

Anna was silent as they were led to their table, while they were handed their menus, and informed of the specials. Michelle couldn’t resist making near-continuous eye contact, a constant I-told-you-so to her slowly growing ex-roommate. For once Anna actually looked shy. She chewed her lip, fidgeting nervously with her dress as she watched Michelle slowly dwindle.

It was after they’d ordered drinks when she finally spoke. “So. Magic, huh?”

“Yup. Magic. There’s not a lot of money in it. But there are… other benefits.” Michelle tugged at her increasingly loose collar for emphasis. The experience of shrinking – she hadn’t expected it to feel so damn good! It was a bit like being drunk, though without any loss of function or wherewithal. Her senses of touch and smell seemed sharper. And earlier, when Anna had purred sensually in her ear, it had been all she could do to not scream with pleasure.

“Hm. So you’re actually going to get small, then? Neat. Like, five feet even you said? That’s small enough that I basically get to have my way with you. How interesting.”

Under the table, the edge of Anna’s heel brushed against Michelle’s calf. It was obviously deliberate, a sudden pressure against her sensitive skin. The heel shifted, pressing higher, harder. Michelle whimpered.

“You know I always had a crush on you. Back at school.” Anna didn’t bother to keep her voice down as she accepted her cocktail from the waiter. “There’s physical stuff, sure – you’re definitely my type, minus the whole Gigantea thing. But besides that. You have this quiet, unassuming confidence that I find very attractive. Yet you still manage to be shy around me, even when you’re fully a head taller. It always felt like you were trying to make yourself smaller. Metaphorically, I mean. It, well, stirred something in me. I think about what might have been sometimes. If our tastes in statures hadn’t been mutually exclusive.”

“Yeah….”

“But you found a way to address that, didn’t you? And going so far as to have your height made-to-order? Letting me tell you how small to get? I’m sure you remember how much I get off on bossing you around. Was that part of your intention? To give me the gift of controlling you?”

“Yeah….”

Michelle was having a hard time following this conversation. It was just a blur of inviting words, warm emotions. That ‘slightly drunk’ feeling was getting stronger the smaller she shrank, and Anna’s heel was well past the hem of her skirt now. She was incredibly conscious of how oversized her panties were growing, of the soft kiss of fresh air against her nether regions, of how easy it would be for the tip of that heel to slip wherever it wanted.

“God Michelle, I can actually see you shrinking.” Anna leaned closer, still speaking in full voice. “You’re already shorter than I ever was. Are you sure you aren’t going to be five feet tall until after dinner? Because at this rate….”

Michelle moaned – and shrank, in a sudden, dramatic burst. Several heads turned in their direction, as the dwindling girl lost three inches of height in the space of as many heartbeats.

“Hmph,” Anna grinned evilly. “The question stands, little lady. Unless that stops soon, projections aren’t in your favor.”

“This is, um, happening a bit fast, I’ll admit. Am I done? I’m not still shrinking after that. Am I?”

Slowly, Anna nodded. She sipped her drink. “Even faster. I think you might have taken a little overdose, sweetie. No matter. Tiny is already a good look on you – the smaller the better as far as I’m concerned. Plus I can tell how good it must feel. Your cheeks are all flushed. You have this delightful look of embarrassed need in your eyes. Plus that shirt is getting way, way–”

Anna’s monologue was cut off as she, too, moaned. And suddenly shrank. Not as much as Michelle had, no more than an inch. But it was enough. Her perfectly tailored dress hung loose around her shoulders, her large breasts no longer supported by the taut fabric.

The restaurant was very quiet now. Every other patron was either watching them, or scrupulously not watching.

“Bathroom!” Anna hissed. “Now!”

Michelle helped support her taller friend, who was suddenly having quite a bit of trouble walking in her enormous platforms. She was having footwear problems of her own – even her simple ballet flats were barely staying on her feet. She had to consciously flex her toes and ankles with each step, dragging them along more than walking in them. Michelle guessed she was about 5’4” now – the height of a normal person. The idea was thrilling, in a way. To be average. For the time being, with her heels, Anna had a full head of height on her. But with both of them apparently dwindling now, there was no way to tell how that might play out.

In the bathroom, Anna ran straight to the mirror. Michelle locked the door behind, and pulled out her phone.

Michelle: Hey sorry to bother you. Remember that shrinking potion I made?? I finally tried it, was SUPER careful with the dosing. I’m shrinking way faster than I should. Plus my friend is too now??? Ideas?

“What are you doing?” Anna shot a glance over her shoulder, then went back to a panicked assessment of her reflection.

“I’m texting my mist – I mean, my boss. Hopefully she’ll have some advice.”

Anna bit her lip, clamping her hands down on the edge of the sink. Another little pulse of shrinking went through her. The spaghetti strap of her dress slipped a bit further down her shoulder, as she lost another inch of height. “Antidote. Michelle. Tell me there’s an antidote!”

“If there is I never learned it. Wait!” she added, as Anna’s face contorted in anger. “It wears off! It’s like a twenty-four-hour kind of thing! Okay? What, did you think I wanted to be tiny for the rest of my life?”

Her shrinking friend relaxed a little at this. “I guess not.”

“You sound disappointed.” Michelle smirked, then balled her hands into fists, suppressing a moan as she shrank again. Her shoes were impossible now. She stepped out of them, flexed her toes, and walked barefoot across the cold tile floor to stand beside her friend. Now the top of her head just barely cleared Anna’s shoulder.

“I didn’t sign on to shrink tonight,” Anna grumbled. “The idea was for you to be the little one.”

“You’re still bigger than me,” Michelle said quietly. “Like. Way bigger than I expected tonight, what with your heels.”

The corner of Anna’s mouth turned up slightly. “You know, when you put it that way……”

Michelle’s phone chirped.

“Is that Eve? What’d she say?”

“Hold on.” Michelle frowned as she read. “That there’s a chance I didn’t have the cork on all the way, and some of the potion evaporated. So it was too concentrated. I made it a couple months ago, after all.”

The phone buzzed again. Michelle blushed. She typed in reply.

“What?”

“I guess… sometimes. Contact can spread the effects of potions. If it happens too soon after you take your dose. Like, mouth-to-mouth contact.”

“Mouth… oh.” Anna gave a guilty little laugh, and ruffled her friend’s hair. “I guess I did kind of pounce on you, huh?”

“Yeah….” The phone chirped again. Michelle sighed, then read aloud. “’I’ve got my own little visitor this weekend. Don’t bother me again unless it’s an emergency. Have fun you two! Kissy emoji, water drop emoji, eggplant emoji.’”

“Sounds like you have a fun work environment.” Anna grunted in annoyance as she shrank again. She seemed to take it in stride this time. “Do you have any idea how small I’m going to get?”

“No. You’ll probably shrink less than I will, if I had to guess. Then again, I started out a whole lot bigger….”

Anna scowled – then suddenly brightened. “Okay. But!”

She took Michelle by the shoulders, stood behind her, made her face the mirror. It was mounted high, and the smaller woman was shocked to find she could only just see the top half of her face. “When we came in, you were all the way up to the bottom of my chin.” Anna held her hand there to demonstrate. The position was several inches above the top of Michelle’s head. She dropped it slowly, giving the smaller girl a skritch. “Now? You’re barely up to my shoulders, cutie. Face it. Even if we’re both shrinking? You’re still shrinking faster.”

“You’re still in your heels, though!”

Her friend pursed her lips, considering this. With a dramatic sigh, she finally stepped out of her platforms – no need to even loosen the straps. She flexed her ankle, visibly relieved. Anna’s height had dropped precipitously. She was actually on the short side for a woman. Even so, Michelle could see in the mirror that her head was only level with the taller girl’s eyes.

“I may be short,” Anna growled. “But as long as I stay taller than you? I think I’ll manage.”

Anna kissed her then, touching her on the chin, making her crane her neck to meet her lips. She was clearly in no hurry, took her time to let Michelle melt into it. Her tongue teased, finally daring to slip into the smaller girl’s mouth. Michelle wasn’t surprised when another surge of pleasure announced she was shrinking again. Anna held her tighter, squeezing, almost as if it was the pressure that was forcing Michelle smaller. Hands at her side slipped delicately under her much-too-large button-up, past the waistband of her skirt.

“Is this okay?” Anna breathed.

Michelle nodded emphatically.

A large, soft hand drifted lower on her body. Her panties were impossibly huge on her now. Anna used the tip of her finger to nudge them, drawing a line around her hip, until they gave way and fell to pool at her feet. Michelle spread her legs obediently, leaning more of her weight against the suddenly amazonian girl, painfully aware of how fast she was shrinking now, how long this pulse was lasting. Anna scratched fingernails through the smooth curls of Michelle’s pubic hair, reaching lower…and lower….

The knob of the bathroom door jiggled suddenly. From outside, there came a polite little knock.

“Just a minute!” Anna called sweetly.

Michelle opened her eyes. She couldn’t even see her own reflection now – just Anna, smirking down at her. The girl was a giant! Michelle’s eyes were only just level with the long valley of her cleavage. It was quite a sight from this angle, especially since Anna was having a rather severe wardrobe malfunction. At some point during the kiss she’d obviously done some shrinking of her own.

“God, I can’t be much more than four feet tall.” Michelle tightened her skirt to its maximum, set to work rolling up her sleeves. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through dinner after that.”

Anna tied off her dress, tucking her hilariously large shoes under her arm. “You know it’s the darndest thing? I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Yeah…. Um. Do you, w-want to go back to my place?” Michelle’s voice was small, and very hopeful.

“Oh, but you know what I am in the mood for? Dancing! And there’s a club just down the street. A possibility I had planned, depending on how the evening went.”

Michelle gave a panicked little laugh. “But…but everyone will see me!”

“Uh-huh! And you’ll probably get even smaller while we’re there. But I’m suddenly in the mood to show you off to the whole world. To have everyone see me with my cute. Little. Girlfriend.”

It was the final word that won her over. Swallowing, Michelle took Anna’s hand, and let the petite giant lead her on.

Chapter 2

The train ride into the city was long, and Anna had plenty of time to think about Michelle’s odd little long-form roleplay. The scenery in this part of the country was dull, all grey brick and suburban decay.

As so often happened lately, she pulled out her phone to re-read the same conversation, to try to make sense of it. Revisiting it gave her a giddy little thrill. Michelle was just an endless treasure trove of weird lately. Anna decided this time to go all the way back to the beginning. It took her nearly ten minutes of scrolling. The timestamp was from almost a year ago.

Fri, June 21, 5:42pm
Michelle: Hey, so hypothetically. If I told you magic was real and I was learning to do it, would you think I was crazy?

Anna: I would think you were 200% crazy. I would think you were two DIFFERENT crazy people at once.

Michelle: OK

Wed, June 26, 12:17pm
Michelle: It is, though.

What followed was an image of a green-haired Michelle, with a gaudy blue aura around her head. She was holding a disgusting little amphibian, and was actually kissing it.

Michelle: I made dis frog

Anna: Been getting into Photoshop huh?

Radio silence for a few days. Then…

Anna grimaced. The next bit was her ugly breakup with Thomas, the long conversations she’d had with Michelle in the aftermath. She flicked her thumb for a while, making it go away.

Michelle: Want me to turn him into a goose?

Anna: No lol why a goose? They’re MEAN and have too many teeth.

Michelle: Ya but everyone hates them.

More Photoshopped pictures. Michelle with body-builder muscles. Michelle with oddly metallic skin. Michelle doing duck-face with breasts easily as big as her head (Anna had saved that one.) She’d never known her old roommate to be any good at digital art, but these edits were pretty good. Except, in some of them, there was a weird green blur in the background. Some kind of editing artifact, she supposed. Then…

Tues, Jan 7, 3:19pm
Michelle: I DID IT! I DID IT!

A selfie of Michelle, winking at the lens like an anime character. She was sweat-stained and covered in soot, and was holding a small vial filled with what looked like green maple syrup.

Michelle: This is TOTALLY for real SHRINKING potion! says I did a great job!
Michelle: Just imagine me SHORTER than you. Like, a LOT shorter.

Anna: You know, if you want to fuck that bad, you can ASK. No need for all the make-believe.

Thurs, Jan 23, 5:02pm
Anna: Didn’t mean to scare you off.

Sat, Jan 25, 8:00am
Michelle: You didn’t

By now Anna was in her hotel, hanging half off the edge of the bed, her bare feet kicking anxiously in the air as she read. This section always made her feel a little guilty…

Anna: OK
Anna: You know how I feel about it.

Michelle: Not really
Michelle: We never talked
Michelle: We tried. You got mad at me.

Anna: You LAUGHED though. Sorry. That’s always going to piss me off.

Sat, 12:16pm
Michelle: Sorry.
Michelle: I won’t last next time.
Michelle: *laugh
Michelle: If there is a next time.
Michelle: If you could have me at any height, what height would you want?
Michelle: How tall was that one girl? Bitsy?

Anna: Betty. I don’t know.

Betty was 4’11". Anna had met her in the stadium that day, back when she and Michelle were roommates. Was it the title game? She couldn’t remember. The crowd was big though. The girl was shy and submissive, sitting in the row behind Anna, her t-shirt a full size too big. In her pumps, Anna was over a foot taller. A flirty apology for blocking her view, a few kind words – that was all it took. Of course Betty wanted to be her date to the after-party.

Was it her intention to make Michelle jealous, asking out someone so short? At the time she didn’t think so, even if she was aware it would detract a little from their star player’s victory celebration. She and Michelle had been in will-they-won’t-they space for months by then, and Anna was honest enough to admit she was getting frustrated. It was such a stupid Catch-22: Michelle’s refusal to date anyone shorter; her own refusal to date anyone taller.

Oh well. Under the circumstances, maybe asking out someone 4’11” was kind of a dick move….

Sat, 2:19pm
Michelle: Yuan was 6’7". She let me measure her.

Anna: You’re such a size-slut.

Michelle: Yeah…

Anna could recall how it felt, when she watched her roommate walk into the party. The party they had planned together. With that giantess on her arm – the one famous for being among the tallest in the league. That little smirk on Michelle’s face when their eyes met from across the room.

Sat, 4:03pm
Anna: If you were smaller tho? If I got to choose? Maybe not as small as Betty. She was too fragile.

Michelle: Yeah…

Everyone at the party had heard how fragile, that night. After Betty and Yuan had not-so subtly snuck off together. Michelle had rushed to turn the music up loud, to drown out the tiny girl’s screams. Later, upon emerging all ruffled and wide-eyed, two dozen people had given the mis-matched couple a round of applause. Yuan had bowed. Betty caught a cab.

The laughter happened later. When the house was empty and trashed. Michelle and Anna, in a cramped little bed together. They’d moved there from the couch. Was that ten minutes ago? An hour? It was a pleasant, pink-colored blur. They’d somehow managed to get past their little size problem – most likely the alcohol helped.

Michelle had lifted from on top of her smaller roommate, was stripping. Anna made an idle comment. Something about how Michelle should be grateful she was setting aside her tall-person prejudice. Michelle smirked, and made an ill-advised joke. Something about not usually settling for tiny girls. Anna, 5’9" and particularly sensitive to slights of her stature, had stormed off to fetch her biggest, tallest pair of heels. They hadn’t come close to evening the height gap between them.

They both knew the laugh was a mistake. Michelle had bitten it back almost at once. The night was over. It was the first, and last time they’d ever fooled around.

Mon, Jan 27, 10:58am
Anna: Five feet even would be a good height for you.

Michelle: Yeah…

Anna was in a cab now. The auburn-haired beauty paused in re-reading the exchange, using her camera to check her makeup. It was perfect, she knew. She just wanted to see again. She dropped the angle, making sure the dress was displaying her assets properly. It was dangerous to go without a bra, but if the night were headed where she hoped, probably worth the risk.

There were long exchanges about what it would be like, to have Michelle at that height. Exactly what Anna would do with her. Anna’s statements tended to start with ‘If.’ Michelle’s, with ‘when.’ The first few bits were cute – helping the smaller girl shop for new dresses to accentuate her tiny stature. How to pick out elegant and refined solutions for making sure she could always reach the top shelf. Michelle remarking how many more steps she was sure to take in a day, how nice it would be to have someone to rub her tired little feet. That had turned into their first true roleplay. With time, things had become more… explicit. Well, who could blame her, Anna thought. She’d been single for months now.

Anna scrolled down, and down, welcoming the feeling of heat in her chest, the faint tightening in her throat that always came with revisiting these sessions. Abruptly she hit bottom. Anna sighed happily to herself, and started to type.

Anna: You small yet?

The reply came back at once.

Michelle: Just started. It’s REALLY nice.

Anna: I’m almost there.

Her car pulled up in front of Michelle’s building. Anna’s lips curled as she felt herself slip effortlessly into the proper Domme headspace for tonight. Her black evening dress fluttered behind her. It was sheer down the back and bare at the legs. Very expensive, but well worth it tonight. The shoes, though, were practically lethal. Platforms, with thin, dangerously sharp heels. Something she’d learned since college: it turned out if you wanted really tall heels, leather fetish shops were your friend. They increased her already impressive height by fully eight inches. They required a bit of practice before she felt confident going outside in them, but damn. The way people on the street looked at her, three parts terror, two parts desire. The way they got out of her way, and stayed out. She felt like a goddamn goddess in these shoes.

Hopefully Michelle was in a supplicating sort of mood.

It seemed so. The way Michelle opened the door was timid and slow, as if she expected there was a monster behind it.

“Hey cutie,” Anna purred, appreciating the two-inch height advantage her heels gave her. It was the first time she had ever found herself looking down at her amazonian friend.

“Hey yourself,” Michelle replied, stepping back to let Anna enter the apartment. They looked each other up and down. “You look… really nice.”

“So do you. I always liked the ‘good girl’ aesthetic on you. Nice pleats on that skirt by the way. School uniform surplus?”

“No.” Michelle crossed her arms defensively over her chest. “I checked. They didn’t have anything in my size. I modified this one myself, special for tonight. See all the little hooks on the side? I can tighten it a lot, if it gets too big. I cut if down from a kilt, if you want to know.” She spun in her flats, allowing the garment to flutter prettily.

“I’ll say it’s cut down. I can see your ass when you do that. Nice lingerie, by the way.”

Michelle giggled, and spun a bit faster, showing off.

Without thinking, Anna reached out and caught her friend by the hand, stopping her mid-twirl.

Their eyes met.

In truth, Anna had worried about tonight. That the two of them might overthink things, that after all these years and all this tension, they might not be able to go through with making up for lost time. That they’d end up with an awkward hug or two, and she’d be back at her hotel room by nine.

Those worries seemed foolish now.

They kissed, coming together as if whatever fundamental force had kept them apart for so long had finally collapsed. Anna pressed down, emphasizing her superior height, and Michelle gave a soft little whimper from the back of her throat. She dipped lower, apparently bending her knees to emphasize the effect of being smaller. It was smooth, practiced. Anna grinned. Michelle had clearly put thought into this. Oh, tonight was going to be fun.

She let the kiss go on for perhaps a dozen seconds, until her ‘shorter’ friend was getting handsy, on the verge of taking things too far – for so early in the evening, at least.

“What about the fitted shirt?” Anna asked abruptly, wiping saliva off her chin, pulling out her phone to check her makeup. It was ColorStay, made for this sort of activity. Still perfect. “Did you make that yourself too? It looks a little loose.”

Michelle laughed nervously. “It’s custom.”

“Custom? But then…oh.” Anna raised one eyebrow. Michelle hid her face. Of course. All part of the roleplay. Her friend had gone so far as to get a custom top specifically to be just a little too large. Impressive dedication.

Arm-in-arm they walked down to the street, Michelle bubbly, handbag swinging, Anna, more demure. She opened the cab door for her date, all slow burn and chivalry. The driver glanced at the two of them without interest. His phone already displayed their route. He spoke quietly into a headset, too low to understand.

“So,” Anna said conversationally. “You’re shrinking.”

Michelle nodded, beaming.

“And you’re going to get… how small?”

“Five feet tall, just like you asked. Eve helped me measure the potency – I was very precise.”

Anna cocked her head. “Who’s Eve?”

“My um, gosh.” She laughed self-consciously. “I guess the technically correct term at this stage in our relationship is ‘mistress.’ But I’m sure I texted you about her, I mentioned her a bunch.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” She settled in, slipping her arm around Michelle, tilting her head so she could press her lips softly against the rim of her ear. “You know, we’ve been talking about this for months. But I’ve never asked. Why is this such a turn-on for you? The idea of being smaller.”

Michelle shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but didn’t pull away. “It wasn’t. I mean, not at first. You kind of made it that way, though. With all those texts. At first I just wanted to be able to date more easily. To not scare people off, and plus, as silly as it is, a part of me stills wants to be the shorter person in any relationship. You know how hard it is to find people taller six-four?”

Anna nodded, her nose brushing against Michelle’s neck. “You stayed with Tyler for almost a year, and as far as I could tell his only redeeming quality was that he was the tallest guy on the basketball team.”

“His cock was okay too.” Michelle gave a shaking little exhale as if remembering.

Anna squeezed her leg. “Ooo is someone getting all stirred up?”

Her friend nodded emphatically.

“Well,” Anna breathed. “It’s infectious. Maybe we’re both just thirsty. I haven’t been with anyone since Thomas, and honestly, he was a little lack-luster even at the best of times. It’s a sadly common trait among short guys. Though he did do as he was told.”

Michelle took Anna’s hand, gripping it hard. She was actually trembling. “I haven’t dated since Lisa, and that’s been almost two years. I loved her but, the height thing. She was six-one, but still, I just couldn’t compromise.”

“I’m sorry,” Anna said. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything painful.”

“It’s not. I’m okay. Anyway. You’re here now.”

“That’s right,” Anna replied, pulling her closer. “I’m here. And with these shoes of mine, you get to feel extra-special small for me tonight. So let’s pretend that you’re shrinking, sweetie. When we get home, I promise I know how to make you feel absolutely. Positively. Tiny.” Anna nibbled softly on her earlobe, ended by tugging gently.

Michelle moaned loud enough to make the driver glance at them in the mirror. The car was starting to smell distinctly of perfume and musk. “One thing though.”

“What’s that?” Anna growled.

Michelle started to reply, then bit her lip. “I’ll tell you when we get to the restaurant. We’re almost there.”

The car pulled up to the curb. Anna thanked the driver. He grunted. She followed her friend, stepping out onto the sidewalk, conscious to keep weight on her toes as she lifted up to her full height in her heels. Anna went to take Michelle by the shoulders, fully intending to kiss the girl speechless right there on the street corner. But Michelle was distracted, adjusting several little clasps along her skirt. She looked up at Anna, a guilty smile on her face.

Anna just stared.

Michelle posed, holding up her arms over her head so that the cuffs of her enormous shirt slipped up nearly to her elbows. She dropped them to her sides, let the sleeves hang loose over her hands. She twirled in place, nearly stepping out of her shoes, a giddy smile on her face.

“You’re–”

“Shrinking,” Michelle agreed. “What would you say, about five-eleven?” She made a show of measuring herself against her suddenly much taller date. The top of her head didn’t even quite reach Anna’s mouth. She stood on tip-toe, gave the woman a quick, chaste kiss. “On my way to five feet. I won’t quite get there during dinner.” She looked down at her feet, suddenly shy. “But I can’t wait for dessert.”

The following is a remaster of a story originally posted in early 2020 - I’m surprised it never ended up here. In accordance with all of my stories, it’s smut - with a decent amount of plot and feelings for good measure. This story is also the first appearance of a character I rather like, who is going to be a featured player in an upcoming novel. I wanted to check in with her. Call this, “How it started.” We won’t have to wait long to find out how it’s going~

Summary: Michelle is the sort of women people look up to - literally. Confident, intelligent, attractive. Not to mention she’s six-foot-four. But all that height comes with its fair share of problems, and she has her fair share of regrets. Luckily, her boss is in the mood to help. With a little luck, those unwanted inches will be melting off in no time, and she’ll get to reconnect with someone important from her past. That is, if she follows the recipe.

Tags: NSFW, Shrinking woman, f/f, Shrinking contest, Gentle femdom, public shrinking, light breathplay, dubious consent to shrinking, be careful what you wish for

Link to story artwork, contains spoilers

Chapter 1

When people asked Michelle what she did for a living, she always replied the same way: “I work in an office. I guess?” It was a nondescript answer, but then, it was a nondescript job. She answered phones. She processed payments. She entertained clients – this last involved tacitly allowing them to hit on her while they waited in the lobby. Flirting back, but nimbly preventing things from going too far.

It was an artform, and being nimble in many senses of the word, one for which she was well-suited. She was tall and attractive and extremely good at what she did. People tended to flock to her, which was okay, to a point. Michelle had been the captain of her college’s Division Two volleyball team – a minor celebrity, in a very narrow circle. She was used to having fans and admirers. As such, deflecting the advances of strangers came naturally.

They’d ask about her personal life. “I’m single, but I’m focused on my career right now.” Or about her height. “I’m six-foot-four, and believe me it’s more trouble than its worth.” The game was to keep the conversational ball in the air, until the little red light went on behind her desk. The older men made this most challenging, were the hardest to put off. The women were the easiest. Most of them just stared at her in awe, and would even stammer when she offered them coffee, which was adorable. She’d even considered giving some of them her number, but this was probably frowned upon. Plus they were all too short for her.

Eventually the light would come on. “Eve will see you now,” she’d say, or, “Right this way,” or if she was feeling feisty, “Come with me.” In the back, past rows of cubes and copiers, was a small office with a mosaic glass window. Michelle would hold the door for them. And that was it. Once in a while she was called to escort them out again, but this was rare, and usually an older man who had previously given her trouble. Most, she simply never saw again.

It was late one Friday when all this changed. Michelle had just finished sending a payment to yet another home renovation company, when the red light came on. She looked up on muscle memory, expecting to see a client waiting, perhaps one she’d forgotten. She was alone.

What is a Pavlovian dog supposed to do, she wondered, if the bell rings and there was no one to feed her?

Michelle did the only thing that made sense. She went back through the empty office space, to the mosaic glass door. She knocked.

“Come in!” a sweet voice called.

She was four steps across the threshold before she realized she’d never seen into Eve’s office before. It wasn’t what she expected – but it suddenly occurred to her that she’d never thought to expect anything. The room was cavernous, with a high glass ceiling and polished stone walls going far off in either direction. Everywhere there were plants. Tall palms and low ferns, fragrant bushes and flowers she couldn’t hope to identify. They didn’t seem to be potted either, but growing up from bare soil, as if someone had stripped a hole in the foundation beneath the building.

Michelle pushed her way through the strange little jungle. She could barely see the other side of the room through holes in the foliage; it must take up at least a whole city block! But there was another storefront next door – on either side in fact. And the sun shouldn’t be coming through the skylight this time of day. With the new condos across the street, this whole neighborhood should be in shadow.

“This way, dear. Take a left past the willow.”

Michelle stepped over a bundle of roots, found a gravel path in the dirt. She followed it. At the end, in a bright little clearing, sat a woman. She was behind a desk strewn with papers, a laptop hanging precariously off one corner. She was pale and pretty, with long black hair that trailed down nearly to her waist, and she was tapping distractedly on her phone.

“Eve?”

The woman smiled, setting the device aside. “Ah, you must be Michelle. Have a seat.” She pointed at a chair that Michelle was certain hadn’t been there a moment before.

She hesitated, studying the woman up and down, sensing a trap. “You’re my boss?”

“If you want to use the term, sure.” She twirled a finger toward the seat encouragingly. “I just had to get a look at you. You’re making quite an impression on our clients.”

Michelle warily took her seat. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Mmm, yes and no. In general it’s something I admire. But for your role at our company, it is definitely frowned upon.”

“I’m sorry,” she responded instinctively. “It didn’t mean to–”

Eve waved her hand dismissively. “No, no, it’s my fault. A problem with recruitment I suppose. I wanted someone competent, and extremely attractive. You’re even blonde, just as I requested, so all that came though just fine. I thought I specified someone unassuming, though.”

She could feel hot blood rushing to her cheeks. “I don’t remember seeing ‘unassuming’ in the job description.”

“What do you remember? About the, ah, job description, sweetie?”

Michelle stared.

“Nothing, huh? What about your first day, then? Any anecdotes from your on-the-job training? Someone must have told you my name at some point, at least? Who was it?” Eve’s eyes twinkled green in the afternoon light. “Nobody. Huh? Is it like you already knew?”

“What are you?” Michelle asked suddenly.

Eve snapped her finger several times in applause. “Great question! I’m a witch, of course. And something of a genie too, I guess? The concepts overlap at my level.” She tapped her chin, searching for the words. “Okay, so, it’s like this. People come to me. They want things. They say words, though usually the words aren’t important. It’s the want see? We negotiate a price. And then… things change for them. Most of the time for the better.”

Michelle did her best to act as if she’d understood this. She affected a casually lean against the desk, while inside she felt her life crashing to ruin. “So uh, tell me then. Eve. Why does a witch need a personal assistant?”

Eve laughed, the sound like the tinkling of a dozen tiny bells. “Oh, you aren’t my assistant silly. You’re my familiar!”

Michelle pushed her chair back, rising to her feet. “I’m what?”

Eve rolled her eyes. “Save you existential crisis. You’re still you. It’s not even a violation of free will, technically. I made a spell to summon the appropriate person. Someone capable yet unobtrusive, who could fade into the background while doing the necessary, boring parts of my job. You showed up – despite being a person who utterly fails to fade. There has to be a reason. So let’s investigate, shall we? Because as much as I appreciate your work ethic, you’ve been making my life harder.”

“Harder? How?”

“You’re confusing them, sweetie. My clients.” The witch leaned back, contemplating the impossible sunlight reflecting from above. “They aren’t thinking about the right things, when you escort them back here. They’re thinking about you. Half want to date you. The others want to be you. Tall, and confident, and commanding. All the hours I’ve wasted getting them back on task…”

“Sorry,” Michelle whimpered.

“I said save it.” Eve softened. “Here. Let’s figure this out. Look at me.”

Michelle did. The witch came around to her side of the desk. The woman was much shorter than she’d been expecting – though Eve was a bit on the tall side for a woman, she supposed. Most everyone was shorter than Michelle.

Eve stood toe to toe with her. She took each of Michelle’s hands in hers, studied her palms, then the backs of her hands. Her expression was appraising, yet there was an affectionate sort of curiosity as well. The look of someone trying to find a reason not to throw away a beloved but moth-eaten old sweater. “The first thing I’ve deduced: you’re very tall.”

“I’m six-foot-four, and it’s more trouble than it’s worth,” Michelle responded automatically.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

She discarded her stock reply for when the conversation took this path, thought about the question for perhaps the first time in years, as Eve carefully inspected a stand of Michelle’s hair. “I mean, there are good things about my height, don’t get me wrong. It gives me certain advantages – on the court, it definitely did. And in my regular life, it makes people take me seriously. But….” Michelle suddenly yelped as Eve gave her hair a sharp little tug. “Can I help you with something?”

“Don’t mind me. Magic stuff.” She pointed toward the floor, at Michelle’s sensible ballet flats. “Take one of those off. The left one. Your sock too. Put your foot on my desk.”

Michelle did, feeling foolish. Eve ran the tip of her finger along the blade of her foot, her lips pursed thoughtfully. This continued, Eve’s movements an odd mix of clinical and sensual, until the witch found a point that made Michelle’s whole leg give an involuntary jerk. She gave an I-thought-so nod. “Other foot now. You were saying? About your height?”

Michelle sighed loudly, but obeyed. “I was saying, that being tall tends to attract unwanted attention. It makes some people treat you with undue familiarity….”

“Mm,” Eve agreed, her face two inches from Michelle’s big toe.

“While others get scared away. And it tends to warp your perceptions, too. Who’s worth your time. Who isn’t. Let’s just say… when I was younger, I made some choices that I regret, with a person I cared about very much. A lot of it had to do with being tall. I’d rather not go into details right now.”

“Ah. Don’t want to get too personal with your boss, huh?” Eve was fishing a set of calipers out of her drawer.

Michelle finally had enough. She stepped away from the witch, crossing her arms over her chest. “This? Whatever it is? It’s done.”

Eve stuck out her tongue. “Oh you’re no fun. Anyway I’ve almost got what I want. One last question: would you change it?”

“Working for a witch? Jesus, probably.”

Eve laughed. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. Don’t dodge that question.” She sat back down, putting her feet up on the desk. “Being tall. Michelle. If I could fix it for you. Would you want that?”

For a long time, Michelle didn’t say anything. The silence played out, as Eve grinned at her impishly. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “You… could really do that, couldn’t you? I mean, you’re a witch, right?”

The woman’s nod was barely perceptible. Her eyes were terrifyingly bright and green. Somewhere, water dripped from a high forest branch.

“But,” Eve said. “I won’t.”

“Why not?” Michelle whined, disappointment evident in her voice.

“Because it helps to have goals, sweetie. Something to drive us. If you’re going to work for me, I want you to have something to work toward.”

The taller girl threw herself into her chair, pouting. “How do you expect me to work at getting smaller?” she asked the ceiling.

“Magic, duh. I can teach you – the parts you need, at least. It’s like, I don’t know, eighty-five percent horticulture. And the other fifteen won’t be hard, if you’ve got talent. I’m quite sure you do, by the way.” Eve dimpled. “I was worried that I’d messed up the spell that summoned you. But I forgot that I left a little room for interpretation. So maybe you aren’t as unassuming as I wanted. But unless I miss my guess, you’re quite a bit more capable.”

Michelle remained limp in her chair, not bothering to look up. “How’s the pay? For being a witch, I mean?”

“Stinks. I can barely afford your salary, much less the office space outside. Let’s focus more on the benefits package.”

She looked up at this, studying the witch with a wary expression. “You’re really going to teach me to do magic? To make, what, a shrinking potion?”

“That’s a little advanced. You aren’t even in kindergarten yet. Think more like, Potion of Slightly Redder Hair. Anti-hangnail tinctures. But what you’re after? I promise you, it’s not too far down the road.”

Michelle sighed. “Can I have the weekend to think it over?”

“Oh yeah, totally! But I already know you don’t need it. Special talent of mine – I have a knack for knowing what people want. Usually better than they do.”

Smirking, Eve offered her hand.

Michelle sighed louder this time. And shook with her.

@littlest-lily I’m very, very glad that landed. So often these fantasies can go to dark places, but inside, it comes from a good and sweet place. I tried really hard to bring that out ️

@SmolChlo So glad you enjoyed. We could all use a Master like that sometimes~

Thanks so much to Elle Largesse (https://twitter.com/mightytinygiant) for beta reading this story, and improving it dramatically. Thanks also to other beta readers who didn’t wish to be named.

CW: shrinking woman, NSFW, sizes from ~five feet to a few inches, non-consensual, gas-lighting, emotional abuse, “hypnosis,” 24/7 Master / slave dynamic, crying, brief impact and breath play, light sexual pain, speech and language restrictions, implied Daddy Dom / little girl dynamics, unreliable narrator

One-shot, 4390 words

The Burden
by pseudoclever

I start to get antsy around five thirty. He’s on the train by then, probably. Almost home. I should do something to prepare, I think, but I’m already groomed, and I’m already dressed the way he wants. Plus I finished all my chores hours ago.

They’re so much easier these days.

I end up pacing back and forth, wearing down a path in the living room carpet. Like a dog who knows it’s almost time for dinner. I’m not sure whether it’s Pavlovian Conditioning, or if he’s taking direct intervention this time. But I’m already panting for him, even before I hear footfalls on the front porch. My heart starts to race, my chest tightens, and I think how embarrassing it would be if this was just the mailman. Especially if they happened to look in the window. What would they think? That I’m just a very petite housewife with an odd sense of fashion? Or would they guess that something darker is going on.

But then the key crunches in the lock, and the door swings wide. He’s there, in jeans and flannel. A big man. So big that my head doesn’t even reach his sternum. He smells of the day, and of the outside world. Fresh air, and casual exertion, and that particular brand of aftershave he always wears. They say scent is tied more strongly to memory than any of our other senses, and I remember that I loved him once. Before all this started. I still love him. It’s just hard to trust that feeling now.

Master gives me that knowing smirk, cups my cheek with his rough hand, and I’m a puddle. He straightens my toga for me, and strokes my hair. He asks if I’ve been good. I nod, and he smiles, and it’s like the sun finally coming out after a hundred years of darkness.

“Come sit with me,” he says, and hooks his thumb in my collar’s metal ring, the place he’d attach a leash if he ever needed one.

He tugs, gently.

I follow.

I wait obediently, with my hands clasped behind my back, the way I’ve been trained. He makes himself comfortable, unhurried, taking his sweet time. At last he pats his lap, and I was hoping for that, or at least it seems to me now that I was. But if I’m at all conflicted it doesn’t show. I climb up at the speed of instinct, like he’s tapped my knee with a hammer and I’m helpless to resist the impulse deep in my animal brain. I lay face down across his thighs. A month ago, when he asked me to do this, I needed his help. Or at least his patience, while I climbed up the side of a couch meant for someone five times my size. I’ve grown a lot since then. I’m almost big enough that the furniture seems built for me again. I’m still on the small side, but that just means I’m the perfect size for his lap.

He pets me, and I arch my back to meet his giant hand. My hair, my shoulder blades. The nape of my neck. This goes on for a heavenly eternity. I’m literally purring. But also, I’m biting the inside of my cheek. Hard. Trying to keep any sounds from escaping that are too encouraging, that would make him take this a step farther. Trying to remind myself not to get too excited, not to let his touch carry me away.

“You’ve been very good lately, kitten.”

I squeak with glee. My toes curl with pleasure. I bite down harder.

“You’ve done everything a Master could want, and more.” He strokes down the path of my spine, into the eager little cusp just above my tailbone. “Except.”

I freeze.

“Something feels a little…. Off. About your… appearance?” He chuckles softly, and gives my butt two quick taps. “Roll over.”

My body obeys before I can even process the command, and I’m staring up into his eyes, a deer caught in the headlights. He inspects me, and I don’t even dare to breathe. I hold completely still, except for the goosebumps, and how the pounding of my heart makes me shake a little. He lifts my chin with the tip of his finger. Makes me turn my head from side to side. Then runs his fingernail over my bare shoulder, down my chest, parallel to the line of the simple white toga that is my uniform.

He stops beside my hip, where the garment is tied.

“This,” he says, thoughtfully. “There used to be more fabric here. When I first made it for you. Didn’t there?”

I’m so scared I can’t even make my eyes focus.

I nod.

“As I recall, it didn’t fit nearly so tight on you, either.”

I say nothing.

“Hmph.” He stares off into the middle distance, looking displeased. Then. “Go get your tape measure.”

I’m off at once, scurrying through the house as fast as my little legs can carry me. God, where is it? He hasn’t asked to measure me in weeks. Did I leave it in the bedroom, or in my sleeping nook? I’m letting the front-of-mind task consume me. Because I already know what he’s going to find.

It’s beside the measuring wall, of course. I grab it, and I’m about to run back to him, maybe he’ll be merciful, but then I’m caught, just staring at this simple white wall with a dozen little pencil marks inscribed upon it. At a dozen heights I’ve been, each time he felt it worthy to note my size. I don’t remember any of it – the marks, or the sizes. Just a vague sense of something that happened once, like trying to recall a vivid dream two weeks after you’ve had it.

This wall is the history that he won’t let me remember. Some marks are fascinating, like the one around the level of my hip, and I can actually remember that one, because it’s when I started growing. Other marks I can’t even make myself look at, and that must be his doing, his manipulation. There’s one around my knee like that. And the one at the very very top, I can’t even bring myself to see out of the corner of my eye. Most are very far down. I’m caught up in horrified fascination, trying to forensically reconstruct my life from the stories this wall has to tell, and that’s when he comes up behind me.

Without a word he turns me. Presses me against the wall so hard it knocks the air out of my lungs, makes me lift my head and stand up straight. He marks off my height with a pencil, then shoves me out of the way, unrolls the measuring tape.

Master clucks his tongue. “Four feet. Seven inches tall.”

Neither of us say anything. His expression is blank, impossible to read. All at once he lets the tape measure roll back into its spindle, and the sudden sound and motion makes me flinch violently. But I don’t run, because where would I run.

“I’m honestly impressed,” he says, at last. “At how much willpower this must’ve required, to grow yourself back. You never could’ve managed it in the early days. I’d put you to bed, and find you smaller every morning. After I’d spent the whole night making you shrink. You were positively insatiable back then. Do you remember?”

He reaches down, touches the collar, and makes me remember. Pours the memories into my head, until they all but overwhelm me. The feelings rush in – embarrassment and regret and nostalgia, but those emotions are background. Mostly I feel the sick excitement that used to rule me. The delirious joy of being his, back when all this was new.

Even then, I knew what was making me smaller. I’ve always known, because it’s always been the same. I wasn’t just allowing him to do it to me. I was seeking it out. Prostrating myself before him, each night when he came home. Begging him to touch me, with gesture and action, because words were for big girls, and I was not a big girl anymore. Doing chores all day to earn his attention. Then presenting myself before him, like a poor little animal in heat. He’d touch me. And because of the rules he imposed, and the words he whispered into my collar, each time he pushed me to release….

I’d get smaller.

“You were so creative,” he drawls. “At finding all the ways we fit together. All the different things I could do to make you feel good, so you could get smaller. The experience of playing with you was so different, when you were three feet tall, instead of four. The same for two-foot-six… or one-foot-three. Always fresh, and always new.”

I can feel my cheeks burning, as I remember it now. Even when he spent all night, wringing every last drop of my essence from me until I was too exhausted to crawl to bed without his help, I still wasn’t shrinking fast enough. I needed more. I’d stay up late. Curled in my sleeping nook, far across the house, where he couldn’t hear my moans. And shrink myself smaller.

My head is spinning, my mouth is dry. I’m getting wet. Why do I like this so much?

No. This is his fault. He’s controlling me. Forcing me to like it. That has to be it.

“I never once saw you react to getting smaller with anything other than satisfaction, and a desire for more.” He pauses. “Except that one day. It broke my heart, to see you so miserable. I had to take that memory from you. For your own well-being. Do you want it back no, kitten?”

I shake my head no, the pigtails he makes me wear slapping me hard across the face.

“You cried.”

The bitter day comes into focus, memories rising out of the fog until they fill my vision. I try to pull away, but his hand tightens on my collar.

“I know. It was awful, wasn’t it?” His expression is sympathetic, but I can hear something else in his voice. “The day you were finally too small to take my cock.”

I felt frustration that day. Then it dissolved into anger, when I realized what I’d become. I couldn’t even be his fuck-toy anymore. I was something less, much less. And even as low as I’d become, I still wanted to be lower. I didn’t want to stop, couldn’t make myself stop.

He cups my cheek, and runs his thumb along my bottom lip. He hasn’t done this since we cuddled in post-coital bliss, and we haven’t done that since he could fit inside me. The simple affection of it – I can’t believe how much I’ve missed it, how badly it makes me want him.

I can’t think, I can’t think.

“I understand,” he whispers. Almost purrs, but predators can purr, too. “That’s why you were growing, wasn’t it? Because you wanted to be big enough for me. That’s why. Isn’t it, kitten?”

I realize I’m nodding. Of course. That was why.

He presses that thumb just a bit harder against my lower lip. I taste the salt of his skin, the familiar flavors of his body. It’s such a strong sense memory, this taste, and I can’t fight anymore. I let go of this pointless resistance. Open my mouth, just enough to take him in. And start to suck.

I cum almost instantly. Not a powerful, earth-shattering orgasm. A weak, pathetic thing, escaping from me like an almost-suppressed sneeze. It’s the first I’ve had in weeks. I’d almost forgotten what they felt like. But it’s not nearly as pleasurable as the sensation that comes next. A yawning, urging warmth, in the pit of my stomach, just beneath my navel. Spreading all through my body, like honey, until it fills me up, and then it pulls back, and I start to shrink.

He picks me up then. Cradles me like the helpless little thing I am, like he wants nothing in this world but to take care of me. Master carries me back to the couch, unwraps my toga. And starts to touch me. He leaves his thumb in my mouth so I can suck, so I can moan around him, so the neighbors won’t hear, because at my size I’m actually capable of being that loud. I’m on fire for him, want him so badly that nothing else in this world matters. I’d pay any price, give him anything. Give him everything – every bit of me. Until I’m practically nothing.

He goes slow with me. Pulls my strings like a puppet, plays with my desperation. He pushes me almost to the breaking point, then eases me back. Again, and again, and again. I whine up at him, look at him with soft, pleading eyes. I’m too big. I shouldn’t be big. I shouldn’t have tried to be a big girl, and I just want him to take it away again, make me pathetic like I deserve. I want him to fuck me and use me and tell me I’m good. I almost find my release four times, and each time he pulls away he laughs, and I whimper, I feel my sense of helpless need for him increase.

He’s rubbing the edge of my slit so gently. Pressing down on my pelvis with the heel of his hand. It’s enough, but barely, just barely, and he looks at me, lets me know with a tiny move of his eyebrows that he won’t pull away this time. I chase that sensation with everything I have. Every muscle in my body tenses to push. It takes so long, his hand is over my mouth to silence my screams, and when I finally push myself over the edge, when that orgasm comes, it’s an absolute revelation. I squirt like a geyser, soaking myself, and his jeans, and the couch, and a little bit on the wall. He grins, and massages my own juices onto my bare skin. Soaking me all over, getting it in my hair and on my face, my tits and tummy and toes. Baptizing me in my orgasm as I shrink smaller in his lap.

Master unzips his jeans. Eases his cock into view. It’s so beautiful. Already it looks so much bigger than it was yesterday, and getting bigger as I shrink, but not too big, no not yet. I spread my legs in anticipation, and touch myself. He lifts me. Makes me face away from him, fits my head just beneath his chin. His gigantic hands squeeze my thighs, and it feels good to be surrounded by him like this. He tells me to relax, not to hold my breath.

There’s pressure. I open my mouth and howl, and it’s good, but it’s so much. So much. I can feel every millimeter of him as he enters me. I realize I’m holding my breath, and it escapes in a sudden gust as the head of his cock forces its way past my lips, and I cum again before I can even suck in the air I’ve just pushed out. He holds me against his chest as I shrink, as my whole body spasms for him like I’ve been touched by a live wire.

He’s not even very deep inside me. Not even halfway yet. Just holding me a few inches above his lap, both legs dangling helplessly, as I shake and cry out for him. He doesn’t even have to move to make me cum again, but the instant I do he releases me, lets gravity pull me all the way down onto his massive member. And another orgasm starts, before the last one is even finished.

I’m shrinking fast now. I’ve never shrunk this fast. He must’ve done something with the collar, or else denying myself so long made it more powerful. My head is sinking lower against his chest, my feet sliding higher up his thigh. Master is stretching me more and more with each thrust, and I don’t ever want him to stop, but I’m cumming every few seconds and I know this can’t last. He’s already bottoming out, the gigantic head of his cock pressing against my cervix. He intervenes, lifts me higher so he can keep fucking me, keep the balance between pain and pleasure in my favor, but now I’m too small to take all of him, and he’s still getting bigger. I think about how he feels this enormous when he isn’t even all the way inside, and it pushes me to my next orgasm. It’s so much. But I can do it. I can keep going, I can keep going, my mouth foolishly tries to say, but all that comes out is a low animal howl, followed by a little mouse-hiccup as my body gives into him again.

He stops before I’m ready. Starts sliding out of me. It’s slow, and it hurts, but I can feel how gentle he is with me. There’s a feeling of gnawing emptiness and suddenly he’s all the way out, and I gasp and claw at him. Try to get him to put it back in. I feel so hollow without him, even as my groin aches and my hip flexors grumble with how far I’ve been made to spread my legs. I’m growling at him in inarticulate rage, and he clamps his hand over my mouth, throws me down on the couch, pins me. He jams his middle finger inside me, not bothering with ceremony, and starts to thrust, hard and fast and deep. It doesn’t fill me or satisfy me nearly as much as his dick, but it does the job. I shrink around him, and drool all over the inside of his palm. He finger-fucks me smaller, and after a few more orgasms I stop fighting to get back up on his lap, because it’s clear I’m too small to have any chance of taking his cock. It was such a brief summer, when I was the right size for him again, and it’s already over.

I become aware that I’m crying.

He picks me up, carries me to the bedroom. Letting my chin rest on his shoulder, supporting my butt. I’m clinging to him. He’s enormous. Three, four times my size. He’s speaking to me, but I can’t understand. He’s made me forget language entirely, or else I got too overstimulated to understand it anymore. It’s isolating and scary, and something inside me starts to twitch and thrash like a wild falcon in a too-small cage. But even this feeling can only escape me in one way, and my fingernails dig into his neck as I cum from the sheer adrenaline.

Master lies down in bed. Pulls the covers up to my chin. His voice is soft, soothing. It makes me relax. I don’t fight him when he starts to touch me again.

I’ve never been this small before.

He’s using just the pad of his smallest finger, and I squirt again, but I’m too tiny to make any kind of a mess. I’m still utterly soaked from the last time, when a much, much bigger version of me had a much bigger, and more significant release. Now, nothing I do matters. And it’s mattering less by the second.

Time loses all meaning, and the world keeps growing. My body, assaulted by pleasure, unable to resist him even in the slightest. Now I’m too small for his finger. He lifts me, presses me to his face like some hors d’oeuvre. He savors me with his tongue, moaning in satisfaction. I grasp his beard in my fists as I cum, using him for leverage so I can grind my white hot sex against the rough texture of his tongue. And again. And again. Until he’s supporting me with just the tip of his thumb, and I think if he doesn’t stop I’ll break…

He stops. Grasps me between two fingers. And pulls me back so he can inspect me.

I’m not his maid anymore, at this size. There isn’t a single household task I could accomplish. I’m not his pet either - though the collar has shrunk with me, as it always does. Am I even his toy? If so, what use could I be to him at this size? I’m not even as tall as the fingers that hold me.

He grins. That titanic, terrible face, that I adore beyond all others. Even beyond myself.

Master is pleased with what he’s done.

Yet. I’m not happy. And I’m sure it shows on my face. Because he frowns, too.

“Remember,” he drawls. “That mark on the wall? The one that was very, very high?”

No. Please no….

It floods back in an instant. Memories, from my old life. The numbers come first. Six foot four. Trapped in a body I hated. Always the wrong shape, like I didn’t fit in my own skin. Intimidating to everyone around me, ignored or ridiculed by anyone I wished to draw close. Master. Though he wasn’t Master back then. He was the first one who understood. He loved me, he said. And always would, in any shape or size.

A mysterious little shop I found. A collar. I presented it to him. Explained how it worked. We made an agreement.

I was scared, at the end. A part of me too proud to let go. He promised he’d take that burden. Carry it for me, as long as he could.

I kissed him. We said some words together.

I don’t know if any of it is real. It feels real. It always does. But this memory is so visceral. The relief so sharp in my mind, as the collar fastens without a clasp around my neck. The way his voice shakes on his first tentative commands. That first time I shrink. Riding atop him, the inches blessedly, gloriously leaving me.

If it isn’t real, then it’s the fantasy I’d choose.

It’s gone, quick as a wink. I was thinking of… something. Whatever it was, it’s beyond me. I only know that I’m smiling up at him. And Master looks so, so proud of me.

“There’s my good little kitten. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

I don’t know what this means. But it feels good when he calls me good, so I nod at him, and blow him a tiny little kiss.

He lowers me. Lifts the covers, navigates my miniscule body through the dark cavern beneath his blankets. Something smells so, so good, and I sense what he’s about to do, just before he thrusts me inside his soft cotton boxers. I’m laughing, and grinning, the happiest I can ever remember feeling.

I set to work. He’s already hard, and from the way he quivers at my touch, he’s been on edge for a very long time. I can feel a giant vein thicker than my thigh, and I squeeze it between my legs, and his pulse quickens. In the darkness the head of his cock lifts, throbs gently, and I can smell something new. It’s pungent and sweet and good. It fills me with such love for him that I don’t know what to do with myself.

His moans are earthquakes. His exhalations a distant hurricane. I can feel the heat coming off him as he gets closer to the edge. And I try with all my might, but I’m too small for him. Not strong enough, and even with my best efforts I know I’ll never, ever be able to get him off. I feel useless, but it’s a good feeling somehow. Because there’s a simple joy in an impossible task, when it fulfills your purpose just to do your best.

Finally, Master helps me. Thrusts himself into the dark, and with one divine hand, he squeezes me, and he squeezes himself. Once is all it takes. Just at the last moment his thumb flicks, and he pops the head of his tree trunk cock outside of his boxers, away from me, and this is smart, so smart, because I want to lie with him after and not worry about clean-up. And then he’s cumming.

He’s throbbing and bucking beneath me, and I hold on for dear life. My grip fails me. I’m thrown from the top of his cock where I’ve been riding, into the slack space of his boxers. I slide down, thrashed about like a ship in a storm, finally I come to rest underneath him. In the dark I feel the massive weight of his shaft pressing me down, and I don’t fight it. He’s so heavy, and it’s hard to breathe, but the weight is good. It’s only the tingling sensation in the back of my neck that tells me I’ve just had an orgasm of my own, that I’m shrinking for him. But in the presence of such majesty, how could I do anything else?

We lie together. His breathing slows. He softens, bit by bit. The sound of the blood rushing out of his fading erection is the perfect white noise. It’s warm, and comfortable here. I’m safe.

He sleeps. As I start to drift off myself, I consider how small my world has become. I could live my whole life upon him, beneath him. He is my world now. But that was true even when I was much, much bigger. How much bigger? Is a scary question, and I’m suddenly grateful that I can’t remember the answer, even if I tried.

Something else occurs to me. It’s the last thought before sleep takes me. If he’s my world, then I am his, too. Because in every single memory I have of him, everything he has done has been for me. I’ve had many roles for him, at many different sizes. But always he has done more for me than I could ever do for him.

I’m his burden.

But if that’s true, he doesn’t seem to mind. Quite the contrary. And it’s so nice to let yourself be carried, sometimes.

So I decide. If I’m a burden, it’s a good thing I’m so tiny. That makes me much easier to bear.

I could point to so many early bits of childhood nostalgia. Movies and cartoons with an episode where a character grows, or shrinks.

One snowy evening many years ago, I wanted to see when something featuring that trope would be on TV. I typed “shrinking woman” into a search engine. And that’s how I found all of you.