Bri would go to her college classes in jeans and a professional shirt and be her “taller” self, and then go home, put on the shoes, shrink down, and hang out with her other friends at 5’0". She loved the variation in perspective. On one hand, she could be the “astute” kid who people would go to for advice, and on the other hand, be the “dainty” cute woman in make up and flats. She enjoyed how the process shrunk her a little bit in all dimensions. Her proportions still matched her 5’10" frame. When shrunk, she would always dress up and wear cute clothes so that she felt like a princess. Her closet was filled with clothes that were two different sizes. She loved being able to create two different identities that clashed with each other.

As her tall self, Bri was a star student. She excelled at all her classes. Wrapping up her bachelor’s degree, she started to seek out opportunities to work on a master’s degree where dissertations could be worked on. At her height, she was one of the tallest women in the class and around the same height as most of the men. This made it easy to have conversations with them. Wearing a polo and jeans, she often theorized economics with her classmates and earned a reputation as one of the popular students. She enjoyed helping others out with their work and found it rewarding. She took it as a part of the challenge to help other students in her class also achieve high grades. The professors noticed.

As her small self, Bri would hang out with friends and enjoy the perspective shift. Sitting on a couch, when she would normally feel a little bit “big” for the couch, she could no longer sit back and let her shoes touch the floor. They would dangle a few inches in the air. She quite literally “felt” weaker and smaller, almost all the time. She noticed how people treated her differently. Her friends would call her “cute,” they would talk sweeter to her, and there was an aura of people “trying” to dignify her as a human being - as if her smallness made it more challenging to respect her as one. She enjoyed watching people look down at her and struggle to connect because they were more interested in how she looked than by what she said. As she would look up at them, she enjoyed how she could let go and feel small and not feel like she had to perform to get attention.

Then, Bri got the opportunity of a lifetime. While she was finishing up with her bachelor’s, her college professor offered her a scholarship to another university to work on her masters degree which included early dissertation work. She would move locations and wouldn’t know anyone over at the new campus. Bri, being an outstanding student, hatched an idea for personal growth. She was up for making her college classes a little more challenging. She theorized that if she stayed small while on this opportunity, it could set her up for future work down the line when dealing with bossy men. Being shorter, daintier, and cuter always has academic disadvantages, she read online. People mansplain to you, they think you aren’t that smart, and they tend to try to do the work for you. It was a man’s world and she knew she would be facing the gauntlet if she stayed shrunk throughout her masters program. She knew inside that she could dig deep and find a way through. If it became too overwhelming, she could always transfer away to her old identity and grow back. The idea was that she was going to become “Batman” not just for a casual evening out, but for a few years.

Bri made sure to shop around for more outfits and even picked out different colored flats for the ordeal. These outfits obviously added to the challenge. Men for sure would be all over her, giving her strange attention, thinking that she was a star student mainly because of her looks. Little did they know that she was still the same star student she always was and had earned her accolades. Only now, shrinking herself would allow her to become even more stellar. Bri didn’t pack any of her “taller” clothes with her; she was committed. Packing up her suitcase at 5’10", she told herself this was the last time for awhile she could have the strength to even lift it. She knew that when she shrunk, even just a little bit to 5’0", that she was hard-pressed to lift anything remotely heavy. She put on her flats and went to sleep, ready to travel for the next day.

Freshly shrunk the next morning, Bri grabbed her suitcase and rolled it out the door. She went into the bus station, and, holding the suitcase with both tinier hands, heaved it up onto each bus step with her entire body. Being smaller obviously has its physical drawbacks as well as its academic ones - these are amplified for women. Already out of breath from heaving the suitcase up two stairs, Bri rolled her suitcase into the first seat, sat down, and dangled her legs, crossing them at the knee. She was too short to reach the floor. Her little flat dangled a few inches above the bus flooring. A bit of fear already crept up into her. She was going to be this size for the next few years, she thought. Maybe she was getting too deep into it already. But her resolve came back as she rested on the bus. It was only the first day. She was used to being this size before. She just had to push through, day by day, and accept it as a challenge.

As Bri walked into her first classroom, it was obvious she had another challenge at her height. The class was 80 percent male. Already lumbering around her height normally, these men were towering over her tiny stature and made it much harder for her to fit in as just another one of the students. On top of it, she was the only person in the entire class dressed up and wearing make up. Everyone seemed to pass over her as she walked by them, making minimal eye contact. She sat in her seat, dangled her slightly shrunken legs above the floor crossing them at the knee, and smiled. She was in. She was going to prove everyone that she was still the strongest student, even if she was the weakest, shortest, and cutest physically.

“Open your books to page 20.” The professor said. Bri leaned over and reached into her school bag and pulled out “The Working Class.” It was a 300 page hardcover on economic theory. Physically weakened by her shrunken size, she needed both arms to pull it out. She was surprised with how heavy the book had become. She already had read and studied this book, but she was always 5’10" when she did. At this size, it seemed behemothly, like The Book of War. The professor continued.
“Who knows what caused The Great Depression?” Immediately and confidently, Bri raised her hand into the air. The professor looked around, even to her direction, and then called. “Yes?”
“A multitude of factors, uh, inexperienced stockholders, and uh, overestimations, and uh… yeah.”
Bri hadn’t been called on. She continued to hold her hand in the air, she knew the answer.
“Yes,” the professor continued. “But you must know that it was the flawed economics itself that caused it.” Bri’s thoughts and the professor’s words matched exactly. She knew the answer. But she realized that at her tinier size, she was already not being taken seriously - not only by her classmates, but by the professor himself! It hit her that not only was she going against the male psychology, but also that her smaller stature literally made her smaller and less noticed in academic contexts. It was a cascading effect of disadvantages. She again, smiled to herself. This was what it was all about. She just had to build the right connections, and she didn’t even need the classroom attention. She began to think of more plans.

As the class ended, Bri walked up to her professor, who stood at 6’2". “Excuse me, Mr. Snack?” Bri said, tugging on the bottom of his suit, looking up at him. She already knew her voice was shrunken, and so she gave her voice a little more noise than usual. She had to talk in a way where she was talking louder than normal, but not quite yelling.
“Yes?” The professor responded. “Are you lost, little miss?” His voice was a familiar one. It echoed like a tuba’s overture - her tinier ears were “perceiving” someone deeply loud and scary. But she had trained for this with her friends for years.
“I was just wondering…” Bri said, “Can I work on my dissertation under you?”
Surprised, the professor looked aghast at the little lady. He was a yogi, and any motion that was presented to him, no matter how ridiculous, was an opportunity for his own growth.
“Sure, you can. Just make sure you do your homework, little miss.” He gave her a genuine pat on the head and assured her that he would take it to consideration.
“Thanks, I won’t let you down, professor.” Bri said, slightly squeakily. She knew she was in.

As the classes wore on, Bri was subjected to continued “special” treatment for her diminutive stature. In spite of her continued academic excellence, Bri was undergoing a subtle personality shift that invaded her subconscious. Before, when she was physically taller, Bri would be assumed to be smart and was in constant interaction with many classmates and mostly talked economics. Now shrunk, Bri was under constant attention - but a much different kind, and it was out of her control. She found herself constantly warding off advances and awkward men’s approaches. Even worse, women also seemed to give her a different kind of attention. They would blankly stare at her as if she were alien in this world of academia. Her height did not help - being over six inches shorter than the next shortest woman, she was always craning her neck up at them. The “Coux de Grace” were her outfits. Instead of complimenting her size 5 flats and dainty dresses and skirts, the girls would make comments that implied it shouldn’t be her style at that size. She even overhead one woman remark: “She should at least wear heels if she’s going to do that.” Somehow, the comment made Bri feel even smaller than how small she already stood. All of this made her guarded against everyone on a psychological scale. Every time she tried to help her classmates, one of the men would step in and share what he thought. She was always talked over and could never get a word in. Naturally, this led to Bri isolating herself into her work and in building a relationship with professor Snack. He was the only one who seemed to appreciate her intellectual brilliance.

Her original theory was working. Driven mad by academic isolation and daily reminders of her new height, Bri’s only solace was in her work. Her tinier stature caused every day to feel bigger and more overwhelming. Remembering times past when opening doors was not worth a passing thought, her body reminded her that she was weak and tiny. Presently, the wind was keeping her from opening the door to the school one-handed. She dropped her books, pulled open the door with both arms, and attempted to swing it out. As she picked up her books, the wind snapped the door shut on her. A passerby noticed. “Need help?” He asked.
“No!!” Bri shouted back. The effects of tiny social isolation had driven her to solve every problem by herself. But the man approached, opened the door, and let her in.
“Thank you,” she said, “I’m sorry, I’ve had a rough day.”
“No worries,” said the man. “I’m Tim. Nice to meet you.”
“Bri.” She slightly squeaked back.
“Have a good one, Bri.”
She found it nice that someone helped her. There was a sence of mutual appreciation. This feeling, at its infancy, triggered the shoes to shrink very slightly, which very slightly shrunk Bri down to a height of 4’11 1/2". It was the beginning of a curse that neither person could control.

In moments of solace at home, Bri would reflect on her progress. She was clearly changing, and perhaps would never be the same. But she was also seeing how she was getting used to the grind of cascading smallness. Despite her setbacks, Bri saw she was gaining mental fortitude and was much better at dealing with her classmates’ subtle bullying or misunderstandings. She was only two years away - then she could grow back and be an unstoppable force in the world of economics. Being this size was like army bootcamp. She missed her old stature as an army cadet misses home. She looked down at the shoes which were responsible for this challenge with appreciation. But she kept thinking about her original height. There were no advantages to being smaller in her situation - she was simply littler. She clearly preferred being 5’10". She vowed to herself she would never shrink herself again once her dissertation was complete.

“Macroeconomics in a Growing World” she typed, crossing her legs at the knee, sitting on a pillow on top of a chair, her feet dangling a foot above the floor. She continued typing away. “Think Big,” “Grand Scale,” and “Living Large” were some of her key topics. Bri was a little lady with Big in her sights. She appreciated that being smaller is always harder to navigate on a deep level. “Small scale forces won’t get you in the door,” she wrote. The overall premise was simple: Size Matters.

Professor Snack read the draft of Bri’s dissertation. “Most excellent… you clearly understand the situation.” He said. She smiled.
“Yes, yes I do.” Bri noted.
"Listen. You’re excelling at the course. I think you’ve earned the chance to graduate early. Bri’s tiny ears perked up. It was as if “Batman” was about to permanently save Gotham.
“Really?” She slightly squeaked. She could hardly contain her excitement.
“Yes, yes…” Professor Snack continued. “You’ll need to put up with a lot of slack, but you’ll do great in the business world. You should get in and get the experience soon.”
Bri nodded up at him. “Thank you, professor.” She reached out her tiny arm, and Mr. Snack met her at the 2/3rds point between them with his hand. It was nearly twice the size of hers! Their “handshake” completed, Bri now had an early pass at graduating tiny bootcamp.

Leaving his office, Bri went outside and started towards her car.
“Hey,” Tim said. “You look like you got a bit of pep in your step. What’s up?”
Bri craned her tiny neck up at Tim. Excited, she shared openly. It was the first time in over a year where she was able to fully express herself.
“I’m getting academic advancement!” She exclaimed. “And I will be starting work soon!” Bri continued as Tim looked down at her intently. “And I’m always tired and exhausted. People here just put up with me…” Bri started to quiver as she spoke, as if her voice were shrinking. “I’m always feeling so small around here…” Bri started to cry. “I know now what feeling small really means…” she quivered, with tears in her eyes. She put her hands in her face and sobbed. “…and I hate it…”
“Hey,” Tim said, wiping a tear away with his index finger. “You’re clearly amazing. You earned this. And just because you’re short doesn’t mean you should feel bad about it. Personally, just to be honest, I think it makes you look pretty cute. Love the style.”
Bri was staring up at Tim with wide eyes, blushing. With her last year of hellish grind unconvinced, she genuinely questioned: “Really?”
“Yes, you’re beautiful.” Time shyly blushed and turned his head as he said it. Bri curtsied her arms and twisted and moved her legs, raising one heel off the ground.
“Well… I think you’re pretty cute too.” Bri responded, seeing Tim’s candor.
“Let’s go to the woods. There’s a nice creek and it’s gorgeous back there.”
Bri blushed. Oddly enough, she appreciated being small around him. She felt normal and comfortable. Around him, there seemed a palpable benefit to being littler. It made her feel more cared about and protected. Far from the ogling, mansplaining, or ways other men intimidated her, Tim seemed to have an understanding of exactly where and when she needed his help. Presently, he was carrying her bagged belongings on his shoulder and walking slowly so her little legs could keep up.
“Here’s the entrance,” Tim said, pointing over. “You good with a little dirt on those shoes?”
Bri looked up at him and smiled. “You’re so silly.”
“Haha…and you’re a cutie.” He gazed down onto her and smiled back.
As Tim said the word “cutie,” Bri felt a deep sense of attraction to Tim. It was magnetic. Her shoes, designed for such a moment, began to shrink. Bri shrank along with them. Within a few moments, she was standing 4’6".
“Let’s go over there. I see some ducks.” Tim pointed over to a lakeside bench. Bri followed. Somehow, at her shorter stature, Tim seemed to match her gait’s pace; both were unaware of what was happening. Bri shrank further and approached the bench at 3’11". Seeing her struggle to climb it, Tim helped her up.
“Thanks…this must be one of those giant benches, not suitable for littles like me…” Bri squeaked out. Tim smiled. His infatuation with the moment made him unaware of her shrinking stature. Only latently aware of her size with feelings of intensifying infatuation, Bri continued to feel more and more comfortable around him as she shrank.
“My pleasure. Look, the ducks are parents.” Tim pointed nearby. As Bri crossed her legs at the knee towards Tim, she saw little hatchlings in the tall grass by the pond. She shrank down below 3 feet tall. Her field of view began to shrink, too - the end of the pond became misty and invisible. She felt relaxed and comfortable. These feelings intensified as she became smaller.
As Bri shrank below two feet tall, Tim reached over to wrap his arm around her. He missed. He looked over, then down, and found Bri “down there.” He widened his eyes, and then rubbed them. He looked again. Yes, Bri was a witch alright, who was shrinking before his very eyes! His heart raced as he did not know how to tell her. Bri noticed Tim’s gesture from the corner of her eye. She felt content and leaned her head over towards him. Her head found rest on his leg. Still shrinking, Bri started to close her eyes. Tim, looking down, was not sure what to do. He was in the classic dilemma of having a cat sleep on you in an uncomfortable position. Bri let out the cutest, tiniest sigh, and fell into a slumber. Tim placed his hand around her body, tucking her close. He waited a few minutes. Then, he picked her up and carried her home in both his hands. She had stopped shrinking at six inches tall. He gave her a gentle kiss goodnight.

Having completed her dissertation, Bri graduated from college and started her new job. She excelled at her new line of work.
“What do you think?” Tim asked, typing away at the keyboard. “I thought the customer might like the smiley face at the end.”
“It’s perfect.” She said, putting her hands on her hips, her shoes pointed forward. Looking up at the monitor, it was as if she was at a government bureau studying battle plans on a giant screen. Her work appeared on it. On the desk below the monitor, appeared Bri.
“Good. ‘Send.’” Tim rubbed his finger on Bri’s little tiny head. He nuzzled her chin and she tucked herself under it, holding his finger with both of her hands, twisting her legs underneath it in an effeminate way. She gave Tim’s index finger a warm tiny hug, nuzzling her head against it.
She had decided to take the challenge of being small after all. She felt she was made to be that way.

In her teenage years, her Catholic school brought her up in ballerina flats. Little did people know back then, but these shoes had the potential to shrink people. However, it required a special prayer in the morning for the spell to start, and then the person would slowly shrink. It was something like “When the woman becomes beneath the man, she shall shrink beneath him, and serve.” This verse was translated in future versions of the script, and had been lost through the ages.

Emma and many other girls, though, had worn these shoes without knowing this. One morning, she was frustrated with her life and said, “Allow this tiny woman, tiny woman, to shrink”. While the original taste had been gone, the prayer’s thought and feeling still reverberated in the prayer, and indeed, she started to shrink. Once she had gotten to class, she was two inches below her normal height, standing 5’7", and was slowly shrinking throughout the day. By day’s end, she had shrunk down to a height below 4’. By this point, Emma had realized what was happening, and was panicking. Her little prayer had been answered. She got a few comments from people, but no one really noticed what had been going on. When she got home a couple blocks away (which felt like a little more like that, due to both her emotions and her stature), she found the door to her home open, and took off her shoes at the door. She said, “Please, I don’t want to shrink anymore, I would like to be normal again”. Her voice had been pitched up slightly, but not to the tune of her tinier ears. She tried to see herself in the mirror to see how far she had fallen, but all she could see was the top of her tinier head when she stood on her tippy toes. She couldn’t stop looking at the mirror. But after staring at it for 20 minutes, and after many points of standing on her tippy toes “trying” to seem a “little taller”, it seemed that the “spell” had passed. She went to bed and took a nap.

When Emma woke, she found herself back at normal size. Relieved, she vowed to herself never to say this prayer again. But her dating life hadn’t started yet, and she later learned something she could do.

Now in her area, the general sense in dating was that the man was preferred to pay, but not always. Emma had done some research on what had really, truly, caused her to shrink. After some time, she discovered that it was the combination of both the shoes and the tiny prayer. She realized this one day - when she had worn another pair of shoes, she didn’t shrink at all. But with these shoes, and without the prayer, she would come home perhaps half an inch to an inch shorter. With time, she started saying the prayer again and shrinking further. She learned that once she took the shoes off, and prayed sincerely to grow back, and went to sleep, that she would find herself back to normal size, if the shoes had been taken off. In her curiosity, she tried this experiment dozens of times - putting the shoes on, wishing to shrink, shrinking a few inches, and then fearfully wondering if the spell would be permanent, then take the shoes off, pray again sincerely and fearfully. She found that if she had shrunk just a few inches, she would immediately snap back to normal size. So her next experiment seemed innocuous enough. The other thing that made the experiment innocuous was that once she shrunk a few inches, she always sincerely wanted to grow back - being smaller lended itself to the whole world seeming much scarier.

Emma realized that men tended to be a “little” more generous if Emma herself was little. She started going on dates in the shoes - wearing them, shrinking herself a few inches, and going on the date. By the end, she would have shrunk several inches in height, and the man somehow would always seem to want to take the bill. She found this to be the case no matter what the occasion was. Even if she insisted to pay, which she did every time, she found that the other person would invariably want to step in. She found herself enchanted by the experience of feeling much smaller than him. But being afraid of truly being taken advantage of, she was always scared that the man only liked her because she was small, and so she never accepted a second date.

However, one day, that changed.

Emma started off this date normally, wearing her shoes, saying her version the prayer: “Allow this tiny woman, this tiny woman, to shrink”, shrinking a couple inches, and then going to the place. While she sat, she learned that she could request a few pillows to sit on and it made it comfier to shrink while sitting, being able to stay more at eye level with the other person and adding a pillow here and there to the stack. As she shrank, she realized this man seemed to have his gaze more fixated on her than most people. Every now and then, she heard him muttering something to himself. It seemed scary, and at her slightly tinier size, it seemed even scarier. Yet something about the fear was also tantalizing. It was as if she was struck under his spell. He also kept giving her a smile, as if he was fascinated with her. She realized that she needed all three pillows to stack on relatively quickly - before her food even came out, she was already sitting on all of them! As her food came out, she wanted to excuse herself to survey the situation, but socially it just didn’t seem right, so she stayed put. They ate together, and afterwards, she was starting to dwindle down almost to as short as she had been that first fateful day she had shrunk. Then, he said something to her:

“When a woman becomes beaneath a man, she shall shrink beneath him, and serve.” It was what he had been muttering. Blush faced, tiny, and panicked, Emma immediately tried to take the shoes off with her feet, but it was as if strong magnets were attached to her heels - she couldn’t. Gazing at her, the man paid the bill, as he watched her delightfully shrink to below three feet tall. Emma, still panicked, tried to leave - but as she reached up for the door handle, she found she was too tiny and weak to open it. The man picked her up and said “Don’t worry, little doll, I’ve got a new home for you”. She wiggled and tried to scream, but her voice was much softer and smaller, so no one heard her. She eventually tried to pray to become big again, but the man just kept muttering to her what he had been muttering all along and she continued to dwindle down in size in his arms. She was to shrink and shrink down to four inches tall - two inches shorter than the height of a doll. As she said her prayer meaninglessly, the man gave her a kiss on the forehead - a sign that she was now his to be served.

The doll dress that had been purchased yesterday at Anna’s request lay next to her as she stood in front of the small mirror taped to the side of the books and tried, for the third time, to apply a tiny amount of makeup using the edge of a pin and a drop of water. The result was more doll than she had intended, cheeks too bright with eyes too wide, but she did not wipe it off. Instead she slipped on that pale green dress and stepped into the little plastic slippers he had carefully stretched for her. They were still slightly too stiff, but they stayed on her feet and almost felt like shoes.

Beth watched from the towel without comment. She had agreed to go, but only if Anna came with them and stayed close. She had spent the morning quietly preparing herself for whatever might happen outside. The thought of being carried again made her stomach tight, but the thought of fresh air and open space pulled harder. She did not know if she was giving in or simply being practical. She only knew she wanted to find out which one it was.

When he returned he carried a small woven picnic basket. Inside were two toy plates, a few carefully cut pieces of fruit and cheese, and a larger plate for himself. A folded square of soft cloth sat in the middle like a cushion. He placed the basket on the desk beside the shelf and opened the lid.

“You can ride inside,” he said. “Both of you.”

Anna looked at Beth. Beth gave a small nod.

They climbed in without being touched. Once the lid closed over them, Anna spoke quietly in the dark.

“See? I told you he would find a way.”

Beth did not answer, but she did feel a smile pass over her lips.

Then a short, or rather giant, walk from his apartment to a quiet corner of a park with a wooden table half-hidden by trees. When he opened the basket the women climbed out on their own and sat on the cloth he had spread. The air was warm and smelled of grass and distant rain. For the first time in weeks they ate without urgency. Anna’s dress caught the light when she moved. Beth glanced at it once, then said, almost gently,

“You look like a doll someone dressed up for a tea party.”

Anna smiled instead of bristling. “I know.”

They talked while they ate, about the color of the sky, the sound of the leaves, the way the grass moved in the breeze. Small things. Safe things. When the food was gone, without a word, Anna brushed herself off, climbed back into the basket, curled up on the remaining cloth, and fell asleep in the shade.

Evan looked down at Beth.

She stood up.

They moved to the other end of the table away from the basket. He sat on the end of the bench and she let her feet dangle off the edge of the table, but her arms were crossed.

For a while neither of them spoke.

Then Beth said, “You kidnapped us.”

Evan was quiet for several seconds. Then he nodded once.

“I did,” he said. “At least partly. I could have called for help that night. I chose not to. I told myself it was to protect you, and that was true. But it was also true that I wanted to keep you where I could control what happened next. I’m not going to lie to you about that.”

Beth had expected denial or deflection. The direct answer knocked something loose in her chest.

He continued, voice steady. “I’m still working on getting access to the reversal research. I think there’s a real path. But it’s going to take time, and there’s no guarantee it will work. I haven’t told Anna how uncertain it is yet. She deserves to know. You both do. There are going to be harder choices ahead.”

Beth studied his face. He looked tired in a way she had not allowed herself to see before.

“She’s in love with you,” Beth said. “Crazy in love. And you know it. Don’t take advantage of that.”

Evan met her eyes without flinching.

“I’m in love with her too,” he said. “I know how it looks from where you’re standing. But I’m not using her. What’s happening between us is real on both sides. I’m not going to pretend it isn’t complicated or that it started from a clean place. But I’m not lying to her about what I feel.”

He looked toward the basket where Anna was sleeping.

“I’m going to take care of both of you,” he said. “Even if you never trust me. Even if you keep seeing me as the man who took you. If you’ll let me make your life a little easier, at least you won’t have to go through this alone.”

Beth was quiet for a long time. The wind moved through the grass far below her feet.

Finally she said, “We should let Anna sleep in the basket. You can put me in your shirt pocket for the walk back. I want to see.”

He nodded. He did not ask if she was sure. He simply reached down, picked her up with careful efficiency, and slipped her into the breast pocket of his shirt. Her head and shoulders cleared the top. She could see the trees, the path, the distant cars lining the street.

He lifted the basket with Anna still sleeping inside and began the slow walk back to his apartment.

Beth stayed where she was, watching the park move past her. She did not speak again. Neither did he. The arrangement was understood.

They were not friends yet. But they weren’t enemies anymore either. Just two people who accepted the situation for what it was. For now, that was enough.

Julian found the diary three weeks later.

It was small enough to fit in his palm, a tiny stack of paper scraps she’d make into a book no bigger than a matchbox, tucked behind the toy box they kept some of her practical things in. He had been cleaning her little shelf when he noticed it. Curious, he opened it.

The handwriting was tiny, careful, and unmistakably hers.

Day 2

He bathed me in the sink tonight. The water was warm. He used his fingers to wash my hair. I didn’t have to do anything. I just let him.

Julian smiled faintly and turned the page.

Day 9

He took me outside for the first time, to the grocery store, in his shirt pocket. I could feel his heartbeat against my back the whole time. I didn’t speak once. I didn’t need to.

Another page.

Day 17

Another box came in the mail, new clothes we picked out online. Finally, the perfect size. One little white dress with tiny blue flowers made me especially happy when he dressed me in it. I never really liked flowers. I do now.

Julian’s thumb brushed over the page. He kept reading.

Day 20

I don’t think about my old life anymore. Not really. Sometimes I remember that I used to have a job, and other things I’ve forgotten now, but it feels like a story someone else told me once.

He turned to the final page.

There were only a few lines.

I used to be afraid that if I gave him everything, I would disappear.
I was wrong.
I didn’t disappear.

I became exactly what I was always meant to be.

Julian stared at the last sentence for a long time.

Then he read the final line, the one she had written in smaller letters than the rest, as if it were a secret she was still learning how to say out loud:

Even if there were a cure… I wouldn’t take it.

He closed the diary gently and placed it back exactly where he had found it.

I have you in the palm of my hand as I remove your panties with my teeth, while you feel my warm breathing over your belly. I can only imagine how your hips would start to buckle as you try to press your crotch against a tongue of that size, caressing you with its tip.

I have you in one hand, as I slowly stroke my shaft with the other while I tease you with my mouth until I’m ready to finish. I lower you and press your chest against the mushroom head. It must look bigger than a punching bad from your perspective.

I continue stroking myself with your body until you start to feel my flesh rumbling and rapidly getting more swole. Without a warning, my hand flicks violently, removing you from under my manhood and positioning your face right in front of the slit. It starts spitting its white, thick, and sticky streams, hitting your face first. Then your neck. Then your face again, but also your belly. You get drenched, spurt after spurt, with my hot seed, as the bursts hit you one after another.

CW: It’s playful but it turns dark.

CONTAINS: Hard vore, giant couple, death, petplay (puppy play), objectification, feet licking, noncon

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I sat on my big, comfy recliner, mindlessly scrolling through social media. I had just gotten bored if it. I put my phone on the side table next to a tupperware container. I peaked over my fat, round belly, clad in a black shirt. My thick, hairy legs were clad in nothing but gray boxer briefs. Past my legs saw my beautiful twink boyfriend in full puppy mode, fully naked save for the cute, pink collar around his neck, attached to a leash precariously around my wrist, and a cat-ear headband.

He was being a good boy. He was worshiping my feet as he was commanded. He was on his hands and knees, licking them with passion. His tongue was lapping up every available inch. He made sure to get the toes as well, sucking them each individually, getting between them regardless of how dirty. The smell wasn’t a deterrent for him, he loved it. His tongue felt warm against my foot. The warmth stayed in any given spot for a second, before the saliva residue he’d leave would cool down. But his tongue would wash over the spot again, and the coolness only made the return to warmth of his tongue all the more pleasing. I was rock hard. He was devoted as any pet could be.

He had been doing such a good job. I didn’t want him to stop, and there was no doubt he’d continue if I didn’t tell him he could finish. At the same time, he had been doing it for a while. I had to me mindful of his limits. I snapped my fingers. “That’s enough, boy,” I said. My boyfriend keeps licking my feet, but more slowly. He loves them so much. I snapped twice more. “I said that’s enough!” I commanded with a bit more force. I gently tugged the leash. He gave my feet a kiss before finally relenting.

He got up into a kneeling position. His hands were on his lap as he looked up at my face, eagerly awaiting his next command. I saw his big, brown eyes and his black cat-ear headband. He was 100% a puppyboy, not a catboy, but he wanted to have the pointy ears, not the floppy ones, and that was just the closest we could find.

I leaned forward in my chair. I began to pet him. My big hand and thick fingers ran through his black mop of hair. “Good boy! Good boy!” I said with the appropriate level of energy. He began to fake a pant as he smiled. He loved praise. I loved giving it. He’d been such a good boy today, I thought about giving him a treat.

I leaned back into my chair. I grabbed the tupperware container next to my phone. I held it up to my chest. He saw them. His eyes followed the container. He’s excited. It was all too easy to imagine him with a little wagging tail. The contents of the tupperware: a bunch of tiny people, shrunken down to one inch. They were all women, because I know they’re his favorite. “Want a treat?” I asked, as if I didn’t know the answer. I shook the tupperware. I heard the sound of tiny bodies hitting against the plastic walls of the container, in addition to the faint, but audible sound of screams of pain, surprise, and fear.

The sound drove him wild, as it always does. “Arf, arf!” he enthusiastically barked in response. He put his hands on my bare thighs. He started to climb up onto me to get at the prize. The tiny women saw the titanic twink coming at them. I could see his cock was hard.

I jerked the container away from him, above my head. “No! Off!” I said, as if he was a dog I needed to train not to jump up on house guests. He started to back down, whimpering as he got on his hands and knees. As he does, I bring the container back down lower. The tiny women were no doubt disoriented as hell by that energetic jerking motion. Some may have even died. But I didn’t care. They’re for my boyfriend.

“Sit,” I commanded, firmly. My boyfriend quickly complied, getting back into a kneeling position, putting his paws back into his own lap. He was panting, drool dripping from his mouth. “Stay,” I authoritatively commanded further. He froze. I put the container on my lap, in front of my round belly. I saw his eyes follow the treats. It’s fine, I allow it.

I popped the top off the tupperware. I saw all the tinies inside, too many to count easily. The once muffled cries of terror from the tinies became louder. Many were back on their feet already and immediately try to climb up the smooth plastic walls. Many were still on their backs or their asses after all the commotion. One of them on their back had blood pooling underneath her head. She was either dead or dying it seemed. Not really important which. I gently grabbed the side of the tupperware and shook it a little, just enough to stop the tiny women who are trying to lift another one over the edge.

I inspected them. I wanted to get a fresh one of my boyfriend because he’d been such a good boy. I grabbed one by the ankle and lifted her out. My fingers were thicker than her legs by far. I put the lid back on the container. I put it back on the side table. “No! Please, put me down!” she screamed in a tiny, quiet, high-pitch voice. She flailed desperately as if it would do her any good. She tried to lift her upper body enough to touch my fingers gripping her foot, but it was impossible for her to do.

I looked at her. She was a pretty typical specimen of a treat. She was wearing a gray hoodie and sweatpants, no make up, no nothing. A lot of the treats in the container were like her: women on a morning jog before they were shrunken down and collected by me. They were just totally normal people going about their day once, completely unaware they were destined to be caught up and consumed in my boyfriend and I’s kinky game. She made some more pathetic complaints and protests. I started to zone them out. I doubt my boyfriend was really listening either. If he was, it was just making him harder.

Now the real teasing began. I moved my hand with the treat to the left. I saw my boyfriend’s eyes trail steadily to the left with it. I quickly darted the hand to the right, hearing a loud scream from the tiny. My boyfriend’s eyes quickly darted in turn. I lifted her up further, and his eyes followed. I opened my mouth and brought her above it. The tiny woman was looking down into my maw as she precariously dangled over it. She was screaming her little head off. My boyfriend wasn’t amused at the idea, even though he knew I would never. He started whimpering again.

I closed my mouth. I leaned forward in my recliner. I held the treat right above his head. His eyes were locked on her. He knew he’d get his chance soon. I started lowering her to him. “I’ll do anything, please, just not this!” she cried. I steadily moved her down toward my boyfriend’s eager face. Soon she was practically touching his lips. My boyfriend got a little too eager. He lunged out at the treat and bit. He would have gotten her, but I reacted in time, quickly darting my hand above his reach. The tiny woman screamed louder than I thought she could. Poor thing was terrified.

“No! I said stay!” I chastised. My boyfriend whimpered apologetically as he got back into a sitting position and stayed still. Seeing he’s clearly at his limit, I brought the treat over his head again. I only made him wait a few more seconds. “Go,” I said as I drop her. She fell a few inches which must have felt like a skyscraper to her.

My boyfriend wasted no time opening his mouth to catch her. She landed on his tongue, and her cries were muffled as he closed his mouth around her immediately. No doubt the smell of my stinky feet was still on his breath. My boyfriend tilted his head, causing her to roll to the side of his mouth and he began quickly chewing with his mouth open. The volume of her screams oscillated with opening and closing of his jaw. As he chewed her up I started to pet him again. “Such a good boy,” I said cheerily, as I scratched his chin. Blood started to drip from his mouth as the screams were permanently silenced.

It wasn’t a particularly special or unusual day, all things said, but it didn’t need

A short one for Hug A Tiny Day 2025! Lmk if you think I should continue it!

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Summary: You’ve requested something of the giant Zephyr for Hug A Tiny Day: you want to hug his boobs! He agrees! And when he tells you he has a way of making them even bigger than they are now, of course you want him to go for it!

Featuring: Giant Transgender Man & Tiny Reader, Male Breast Expansion, Inflation, Fluff & Hugs, Teasing about Nipple Play

Character: Zephyr, one of my sonas: https://toyhou.se/18792034.zephyr

Note: I wrote this because we need more transmasc breast expansion content in the world. This is something I enjoy as a transman who enjoys his tits. Some people may find this story triggers their gender dysphoria, and if that is the case for you, please skip it.

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“Ready?” Zephyr asks you. The blue-haired giant, who’s as tall as a skyscraper, is currently topless before you, showing off his breasts—each one is the size of a small house! They look so soft and huggable even now, but soon, they’re going to get even more so!

“Yes!” you exclaim excitedly, standing up from the desk counter he’s put you on. “I’m ready!”

Zephyr laughs, a hugely loud sound that filles the entire room, and an adorable smile breaks out on his face. “Alright then!”

He reaches down and picks up something, then lifts his hand up to reveal two small tubes, one with a control panel attached to it. He attaches the tubes to his nipples, doing it slowly—he knows how much his tiny audience member is enjoying the show, after all! You blush as his nipples are squeezed, imagining squeezing them yourself, then watch as he presses a button & turns a dial on the control panel.

A whirring sound fills the room, and air gushes up the tubes, filling Zephyr’s breasts and making them steadily expand. They puff up in size, the large, soft orbs becoming massive right before your eyes. It’s like watching a hot air balloon get bigger & bigger—so big it might explode! You smiles at the sight, blushing as his breasts become as big as a blimp— Zephyr notices your expression and smirks knowingly at you.

“Like what you see?” he asks with a wink. “You’re going to like them even better when you touch them.”

The giant turns off the dial and presses the off button. Each breast is larger than his head, fighting for space on his chest, absolutely bursting out of him. Zephyr, seeing your delight, coaxes you: “Come have a closer look.”

He reaches out with a massive hand. Your instincts want to run from the large, living appendage coming towards you, but you hold your ground—after all, Zephyr would never hurt you. Sure enough, he simply places his hand on the table next to you, palm up, fingers outstretched… “Climb on,” his voice booms. You obey his command, hoisting yourself up to his palm and plopping yourself down on its center.

Zephyr lifts his hand up, curling his fingers protectively around you. You’re not even as tall as his pinky, and know this massive being could crush you in an instant if he wanted. But instead, he cradles you protectively, wanting to keep you safe.

You watch as you travel upwards, enjoying the view of his boobs & nipples, and the fleshy elevator you’re sitting on stops as the top of Zephyr’s left breast. “Go on,” Zephyr coaxes you—his voice is significantly louder now that you’re closer. “You wanted to hug them, right?”

“You know I do!” you exclaim. You carefully navigate your way to the edge of the palm, then jump onto the breast with a, “Wheeeee!”

PLOP! You land on a squishy surface, which gives way thanks to the force of your jump, but soon springs back up again. You smile and cuddle against the spongy skin, loving how it gently gives way to your body, but doesn’t allow you to slip off. It’s so soft and warm here. You could lay here forever. . .

Then, you feel a hand pressing against you from behind—you can tell Zephyr’s trying to be gentle, but he unintentionally smothers you, pushing you deeper into the breast. Not that you’re complaining! You like it here!

“Here, a hug for your special day,” Zephyr’s voice booms with a chuckle. “Say there as long as you’d like.”

Zephyr removes his hand, and you gasp for air as you return to the surface. “As long as I’d like?” you echo, looking up at the giant with pleading eyes.

His face is massive here, like a planet hovering over you! He smiles down at you and whispers (at a volume that is quite loud from your perspective), “As long as you’d like.”

You hug the breast tightly. “Then, can I stay here for the rest of the day?” you beg. “Pleeeeeeeease?”

Zephyr laughs—this time, you notice how much his breasts move when he does so, the boobs going up and down, throwing you up with them. You end up landing between the two massive orbs, and you sigh contently—you wouldn’t mind getting crushed like this, honestly. . .

“Alright,” Zephyr agrees. “It is Hug A Tiny Day, after all. So, all day it is!”

He leans close and whispers so that you can feel the hot breath leaving his mouth. “And maybe later, I’ll give you the pleasure of playing with my nipples, hmm?”

You grin excitedly. “I’d love that!” you exclaim. “When can we—”

“Good things come to those who wait,” Zephyr interrupts. He chuckles, then reaches down and ruffles your hair with his massive index finger. “Be patient.”

“Ok!” you agree.

Zephyr looks over his desk. “I still have to get work done, even on your special day,” he tells you with a smile. “So why don’t you relax? Get cozy. Once I take a break, we can have some more fun.”

And so, he opens his laptop, struggling to reach the keys because of how massive his boobs are—that makes you giggle, and you turn around to enjoy the show. As the giant types, you relax between his breasts, feeling cozier than you’ve ever been before. Soon enough, you fall asleep.

I’d love to hear y’alls feedback and thoughts on this!

Summary: Being stuck with the Avatar Of Sloth has been a breeze so far! You’ve survived Vore day with zim unscathed–until ze goes to sleep.

Featuring: NB Giant/Tiny Reader, Oral Soft Vore, Fatal Digestion, Unwilling Prey, Unaware/Sleeping Pred, Vore Day

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Sure, you’d been transported to hell. But soon, you’ll be back on Earth for sure.

The deal they gave you was simple: survive seven days with one of the Avatars Of Sin, and then, your freedom would be granted to you. You chose the Avatar Of Sloth for this challenge, because you figured such a fellow would be pretty easy to live with.

And so far, you’ve been right! Sure, Sloth shrunk you down a bit—you now stand at five inches tall—but other than that, it’s been a breeze! You’re now on Day 3, and even though it’s Vore Day, the Avatar has been too busy sleeping to think of any tasks or obstacles for you, nevermind eat you. This’ll be a piece of cake!

You currently reside at a tiny bed on a table, next to where Sloth is sitting. The demon settled into a bean bag chair to “relax”, but now, ze’s snoring away. You smile and prepare to sleep yourself. But then, you hear it.

“Ungh. . . Food. . .”

You sit up and turn to Sloth. The Avatar has talked in zir sleep a few times now. Seems like ze’s doing it again. . .

“Sloth?” you call out, watching the demon with a mix of awe and confusion. “Are you ok?”

“Hungry. . .” the avatar mumbles in zir sleep. “So hungry. . .”

Without warning, zir hand crashes down in your direction—and before you know it, zir large, metal fingers have closed around your body! You yelp in surprise, trying to get out of this. “Sloth, come on, let g—”

As you turn to the demon, what you see makes you freeze. The tired avatar has zir mouth open very, /very/ wide—and the hand holding you is heading right towards it! You start to panic and fight even more, crying out, “Sloth, please! WAKE UP!”

But the demon is still asleep, and zir hand is rushing towards zir hungry maw. And then, in one smooth motion, ze’s palm slams into zir open mouth, throwing you between zir lips. Shit!

You land on Sloth’s fat, slobbery tongue, which immediately gets to work licking you up. You cry out as it tastes you, aggressively sucking the flavor out of your body with every lick. It presses you against zir cheek, then tosses you to the other side, treating you like a simple piece of meat. A squirming one, but meat nonetheless.

“LET ME OUT!” you manage to scream as you’re tasted. By now you’re absolutely covered in spit and drool; your entire body is soaked with the stuff. It drips off your skin in waves, and just when you think you’re rid of it, that tongue comes again, and covers you once more.

You thrash, panicked, and try to go towards Sloth’s open lips, scrambling to escape this nightmare. But then, zir mouth suddenly closes, trapping you within. After that, you are sampled once more by the hungry demon, and a small, satisfied, “Mmmmmm,” echoes around zir maw.

“Come on Sloth, WAKE UP!” you shout. “T-This isn’t funny! You have to GET UP and—AUGH!”

You are interrupted as the tongue shoves you backwards, and you feel your feet dangling over an open area—/fuck/, that has to be the demon’s throat! “No no NO!” you cry, scrambling to try and escape. “Don’t swallow, PLE—”

A strong /gulp/ interrupts your plea, and your legs are wrenched into the strong grip of Sloth’s esophagus, trapping them inside. Fear threatens to overtake you, but you try one more time. “WAKE UP!” you beg Sloth. “PLEASE WAKE UP!”

“Food. . .” the Avatar mumbles. Ze’s clearly still asleep—fuck! “Need food. . .”

“I’M NOT FOOD!” you screech. “DON’T EAT ME, JUST—”

/Gulp!/

A final swallow sucks claims the rest of you, and then, you’re stuck in zir throat. The esophagus squeezes around your small body as you slip deeper. Down, down you go, for what feels like forever, until forever ends and you’re spat into the growling belly.

You land face-first in a pile of mushy, disgusting chyme, something that smells like rotten cabbage. You manage to sit up in the pile as you adjust to your new surroundings. Below you the stomach is churning, making it impossible to sit still in here as it breaks down the food beneath you. All around, the gut growls, and liquid drips from its rubbery walls. You reach out, and find you can touch the boundaries of the stomach.

So you reach out and bang on them, as hard as you can. “HELP!” you cry. “SLOTH, WAKE UP! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” You slip a few times, thanks to the moving floor, but for a few long moments you hit the wall, hoping to get Sloth’s attention, praying ze will wake up.

But nothing happens—there’s no reaction from zem whatsoever. You collapse against the broken-down food beneath you. Is that your fate, to be ground up and digested too? Your heart pounds in fear at the notion.

The gut lets out a loud grumble, and then, juices start to rain down. A moment later, your form is covered in the stuff, gooey liquids that make your skin feel slightly tingly. Oh fuck . . . are these digestive acids? Shit, shit, SHIT!

You go back to the walls of the belly and try again. “PLEASE, SLOTH!” you beg. “LET ME OUT OF HERE!” You hit harder and scream louder, hoping for an escape. You don’t want to die in this stomach, as a little piece of food!

But there is still no response from the sleeping Avatar. Just as you prepare to try again, a new round of digestive enzymes pours onto your body, making everything feel tingly and melty and /wrong/. You feel weak and tired, and you fall on your knees, completely unable to get the energy to stand up. You can hear your heartbeat, and your breathing gets louder, more panicked. Are you really going to die like this?

. . . Apparently so. The gut groans loudly and releases more juices upon you, sapping your strength away even more. With each passing second, you can feel yourself slipping away. You’re going to lose the deal. . . What will happen to you now? You shudder, wondering what the demons of hell might do to you. . .

You close your eyes, giving into your weakened body’s cries, and a moment later, you black out. The stomach lets out a gleeful gurgle, and a moment later, acids rain down on you as digestion truly begins. . .

Guess you didn’t survive Vore Day after all.

=====

Sloth blinks and lets out a big yawn. Ze sits up from on the beanbag chair, and turns to where you were sleeping. But you’re not there. Huh, that’s strange. . .

The Avatar frowns, wondering where you went—and then, a loud /BUUUUURP/ leaves zir lips. Ze can taste a familiar flavor on zir tongue, and a moment later, ze realizes it is the taste of you.

Looking down, Sloth sees a new layer of pudge has formed on zir belly, visible evidence of the mark you’ve made on zim. “I gotta stop sleep-eating like this,” ze mumbles, letting out a tired sigh. “Oh well. Seems like they were tasty though. . .”

With a shrug, the Avatar goes off to face the day. You ended up as zir food, and made quite a tasty Vore Day snack.

Now that you lost the deal, hell will have quite a fun time with you . . . but that’s a story for another day.

https://shrunken-women-board.com/phpBB3/viewtopic.php?f=26&p=52824#p52824

I met her when I first moved into the neighborhood. A petite young woman with long, honey blond hair, big grey eyes behind cute glasses, a cute pierced nose, and a daring, witty personality. She introduced herself as Heather, and we had an on and off relationship of bantering and deep conversations over the phone.

Of course, I’m shy, so I didn’t make a move. I had a feeling she was waiting for me to do something, but I didn’t know what.

At least, that was until I met her.

I met her at a neighborhood welcoming party a month later. Ms. Liz, the kind, reserved, subtly flirty older lady who lived a few houses down the street. She was a teacher, and she loved listening to me ramble on and on about stuff at my job or my thoughts about life. She was affectionate and sweet, a healthy older woman with straight blond hair and bright eyes.I cleaned her pools, cut her lawns, even repainted her fence at one point. She seemed to enjoy watching me work. And, if I’m being honest, I enjoyed being watched.

Liz was also sociable, and it was through her introducing me around that the neighborhood started to feel a bit more like a home. She spoke favorably of Heather, though there was a bit of a jealous tease whenever she spoke of her: “You need someone more mature then that one,” stuff like that. I didnt think much of it.

Then, one summer’s evening, everything changed.

It happened at a big pool party at Heather’s family house, where half the neighborhood was invited. Liz was dressed in a two piece bathing suit; blue top, black bottom. She looked elegant and refined, her long legs on display and her head crowned with a wide brimmed straw hat. I greeted her, told her she looked wonderful, because she did.

About an hour passed without much note. I hung out with lots of people, played volleyball and tag with the kids, endured a few lectures from some well meaning older folk. I noticed Liz go off into the house at one point, but I didnt investigate.

Then I saw Heather. Her curves were on full display in her dark blue one piece, and her eyes sparkled in the evening light.

She walked up to me besides the pool a teasing look in her gaze.

I don’t remember much immediately after that. I just remember making our way to her bedroom on the second floor, a single window letting in the evening light as we laid on her bed, laying up and looking up at Heather as she straddled me, when she leaned closer to me, and whispered in my ear:

“Wanna see something cool?”

Without waiting for a response, she slowly glided her hand down her chest, her waist, before hooking her left thumb in the bit of clothing between her legs and pulling out a tiny, disheveled looking Liz, barely even bigger than my index finger. She was naked and glistening with sweat and Heather’s juices.

I stared at her in abject shock, trying to look down at the panting little lady with empathy, her voice a tiny squeak as she coughed and tried to sit up in Heather’s palm.

But I couldn’t deny the sudden bulge that had arisen beneath my swimsuit. And, judging by the expression on Heather’s face, a slight flush with a sly grin, she couldn’t either.

“So, I had a little talk with Lizzy here,” Heather said, curling her fingers around the shrunken woman and brushing her thumb along her tiny head. “And, well, it turns out she has some very interesting ideas. Would you like to hear some of them?”

Unsure of what else to do, and trying to calm myself down, I nodded.

“Well,” Heather said with a grin, “apparently, she’s always wanted to be…. Well, quite frankly, used. A cute, squeaking little pet for two gorgeous younger people. She wants me to…. I dunno, sit helplessly in my hand as she watches us kiss-”

Heather cut herself off to grab my chin with her other hand, pressing her lips to mine, leaning clpse, and letting a soft groan escape her throat as she pushed Liz into my bare chest. Her teeny tiny form was warm and slick, and Heather’s fingers were like little electric shocks as they lighted upon my skin. Imagining the tiny woman, pressed suffocatingly close between our bodies as our heartbeats thumbed loudly, only made me harder.

Heather pulled away with a soft gasp. Her eyes were hungry, and I noticed Liz squeak in pain a little bit as her captor’s grip tightened.

“She also,” Heather went on as if nothing had happened, “would love it if I grabbed your little friend down there and helped you drive for a second… if you catch my drift.”

Heather sat up on her knees, her back arching and her eyes dark. Then she slowly hooked her right hand down my pants, pulling them off and wrapping her left - with Liz still trapped in her grasp - around the base of my manhood.

I gasped and bit my lip as I felt her touch. She applied just the slightest squeeze into her grip, drawing a soft moan from my own lips and a squealing yelp from Liz.

What followed was the greatest handjob I’d ever recieved in my life. Not only were Heather’s fingers magical in their ability to extract every bit of pleasure from me, but feeling Liz’s body being ground up against me, squeaking and moaning as her soft body was pressed against the surface of my length.

After a long while, when I was practically dripping with precum and trying my best to not finish too early, Heather finally released me.

“Aww, look at you,” she said, looking down at me with a smile and tracing her fingers along my thigh teasingly. You’re so cute……”

She held up Liz, who looked much worse off than I was.

“You did a number on her. Hopefully she doesn’t bruise.”

With that, Heather scooped her up, seemingly not caring that she was squeaking in fright.

“Uh,” I managed, “she doesn’t sound like she’s enjoying it anymore.”

“Oh, but we haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet!” Heather pouted, then gently set Liz atop the length of my cock.

I watched in awe as the tiny lady wanted for a few seconds, then wrapped her arms legs around the flesh and began to kiss it.

“Looks like she’s still enjoying it,” Heather quipped, “and so are you, huh?” she finished, noticing the twitching coming from my member.

She brought her head down, whispering to the little lady as she worked. “Good job, you little slut. I bet you love it, working a young guys cock like that, knowing that you’re about to get sucked off yourself like a little snack. Keep going……keep kissing it, licking it, tasting it…. grind on it a little bit, he won’t mind, will you baby?”

I didn’t get a chance to answer before Heather bent over and kissed my head, letting her tongue force Liz against it before coaxing it - along with the upper half of Liz’s tiny body - into her mouth.

She worked wonders with her tongue. Every now and then she’d pull away to catch her breath and make sure Liz didn’t get too seriously injured, before diving right back in enthusiastically.

When she finally finished (as I also finished) she slowly pulled her mouth back, Liz’s little legs dangling from between her lips, kicking fearfully and uselessly.

Heather cooked her head back and slurped the little treat into her mouth, smacking her lips together for few moments and swallowing down the excess semen, before she opened her mouth to reveal Liz, squeaking in what had to be abject fear, drenched in saliva and a few thick strands of my own ejaculate. She was balanced unstably on Heather’s tongue, and I could hear a few hoarse pleas:

“…okay……l-let me out now, dear…… I-I’ve had enough…… t-this has been…… A-amazing…. But I’m ready to get back to normal now……”
I was ashamed to realize that the little pleas only made me hard all over again. Heather spoke, her voice a little muffled as her mouth made its way around Liz’s body:
“Mmm…… so…… You wanna finish her off?”
In a familiar pattern, she crawled on top of me before I could respond, straddling my waist and leaning down, pulling down the top of her swimsuit and pressing her bare chest against my own. I felt the hardness of her nipples and saw the adoring lust in her eyes as she brought her face a few inches away from my own. Her breath was hot, tinged with scents of cock and cum, and I could hear Liz’s anxious squeaks even clearer than before.
She gently traced a finger down my chest, her breathing soft as she gently pressed her slick lips against my own, in a deeper, hotter kiss than before. The fingers of her right hand gently intertwined with my own, and I felt a rush of heat come to my face. This was a more intimate kiss than before. Slower, gentler….
And with the added interest of a tiny woman squirming in between our tongues.
Heather reached down with her other hands and pulled aside the crotch of her swimsuit once again, revealing her glistening womanhood. Her breathing intensified, and she kissed me again, Liz tumbling onto my lips with a tiny squeak.
“You think this is hot, don’t you?”
Heather’s voice was a gentle tease, husky and low as she met my gaze. “Sharing a tiny little lady as we fuck at a pool party. Knowing that she’s utterly helpless. Her fate is already sealed, you know?”
I managed to respond, a soft “Y-Yeah?”
In my defense, I was nervous. It was a lot of firsts happening. First time with a girl, first time realizing shrinking tech was real, first time realizing just how beautiful Heather really was, her legs up in the air and kicking cutely as she looked down at me.

my tongue accidentally flicking against Liz as she tried to climb down from my lips. She let out a yelp, and froze. Evidently she’d decided against running away.
“Aw, she’s getting scared…. I mean, she probably knows that I’m planning to keep making out with you, her passing between our mouths and tongues for the next few minutes at least, and I’ll get treated to two sets of cute little squeaks: hers, as she begs and begs to be let go and put back to normal, and yours, baby!”
She cupped my cheek with her palm, her expression warm. “But that’s not all. I bet you lil Lizzy here probably knows that I’m planning to ride you until you’re fucking crying with her on the tip. I want your first time to be the greatest fucking thing on this earth, because it’s gonna be her last. I bet she knows I’m planning to fuck you up and down and sideways, her stuck inside me along with you. I want our screams, our moans, to be the last source of human contact she has to be two hot young people, in ecstasy over her demise. I bet she knows I’m planning to pull her, shivering and soaking and pleading from my pussy, covered in your cum and mine. And I bet she knows that, while I ride you one last time, I’m gonna fucking swallow her whole. I’m gonna clean her off first, my tongue is gonna go in every crack and crevice of her pathetic little body, coming as close to drowning her without actually doing it. Then I’m gonna suck, suck, suck her, like I just got done suck, suck, sucking your gorgeous cock, and as I finally cum I’m gonna swallow her down my throat, her helpless little squeaks of fright drowned out as I scream.”
Liz started to protest, her little voice a frightened whimper as she started to move again.
“Oh? It looks like our little friend’s getting so turned on…. Oh, she’s scared alright, but look at how she’s moving her legs…. Oh, she’s excited!”

With a delighted squeal, Heather leaned close and kissed me once again, cutting off her little voice and letting out a soft moan as our tongues met, pushing her down into my mouth. Heather’s fingers intertwined with mine, and she nibbled my bottom lip as she pulled back.
I bit my lip to hold back a moan, and she clicked her tongue reproachingly.
“C’mon, babe, let it out! I wanna hear you over the the little snack in your mouth.”
She started undulating her hips, humping me and massaging her breasts, and I let out a strong moan, my face hot as Liz tumbled about helplessly. It took everything I had for me to not swallow or choke on her, but thankfully Heather helped me out, pressing her mouth to mine and toying with her.
I couldn’t help but feel a little bad for Liz, tumbling about, fully aware that she was about to endure a strange, horrible fate.
And yet, I didn’t stop kissing her. Didn’t stop moving in response to the hot pair of hips on my waist, didn’t stop getting flustered as Heather took every breath to tell me how cute I was and how adorable it was that I was into this.
“And you wanna know the best part?” she said in between kisses, “Liz won’t even be the last one. She’ll be the first, yeah, but she’s quickly gonna be forgotten. There’s so many cute bitches I wanna shrink down and play around with with you, hell, there’s even a few guys I’d love to crush into tiny red spots as I touch myself to you, so many rivals I want your help in dealing with. We could do this every week, every day if you want. Liz is cute right now, yeah, but she’s nothing special.”
As if to to prove this point, she gently plucked Liz from her mouth, and roughly brought her onto my penis once again, setting her laying helplessly on the tip. Then Heather lowered herself onto me, and started riding, riding, riding. The visual of Liz disappearing beneath her folds as I felt her, bumping helplessly against Heather’s walls, forced all the way to the back by my tip, was… impeccably sexy, in a way I never will really understand.
Heather went on riding me for a couple of minutes, kissing and moaning and talking dirty to me in ways I’d never heard before. The sounds, the sights, the scents, the shrunken pet who was helpless through it all… what a way to lose one’s virginity.
Eventually Heather kissed me one more time, the wettest, hottest kiss, with the softest, gentlest moan, as she grinded against me with all she could.
She pulled back as I let out a yelp of ecstasy. A few tears did in fact leak from my eyes (more than a few but I’ll spare my dignity thanks), and stumbling in a thick load of my seed was Liz, squirming and crying and wailing as she sloshed onto the base of my cock.
Casually, Heather undulated her hips a few more times, clapping against me and threatening to crush Liz. Then, she reached down and picked the tiny woman up, still sticky with my seed and our saliva, and casually popped her into her mouth.
Heather leaned back, massaging her breasts as her tongue went to work. I could tell based on the quality of Liz’s cries, which were remarkably loud, that Heather was certainly granting Liz a euphoric sort of send off.
When the little woman screamed out in climax, Heather tilted her head back and slurped and gulped at Liz’s body like it was her last meal. She savored and ravished her, Liz pushing back desperately against the pink, plush instruments of destruction that were Heather’s lips, but it was all for naught.
Because all it took was Heather smacking her lips a few times and pushing Liz down with her fingers as she increased her speed, Heather’s own moans of approaching climax filling the room - as well as mine.
As she moaned, long and hard and proud, I noticed a thick bulge traveling halfway to her throat. Then she forced a swallow, and I watched in awed horror as the bulge that was Liz traveled down, and disappeared.
“Ahhh~” Heather finally slowed her pace, gently laying forward onto me and embracing me.
“Not bad for your first time,” she said in a ragged voice. “Mmmm, I can feel her inside of me. Pounding on my stomach, her little voice vibrating so nicely. I bet you could hear it too!”
She scooted up slightly and rolled onto the side of the bed, sitting up, crossing her legs, and patting her soft stomach invitingly.
“C’mon, give it a listen!”
Groggily, I sat up, and laid my head into her stomach. Sure enough, I could hear it - a faint, hoarse, desperate squeaking, constantly drowned out by the gurgling of Heather’s stomach juices. I laid like that for a long while, my head in her lap, listening to Heather’s heartbeat and stomach noises, along with the gently fading sounds of the tiny little treat who only a few hours ago I’d have thought of as the kind lady a few houses down.
Heather gently put a finger under my chin, guiding me to look up at her.
“You’re so cute,” she said, gently leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on my forehead. Then she guided us to the pillow and laid there, her voice getting a little quieter as we both started to doze off.
“So……” she managed before I fully drifted away. “Same thing, same time, next week?”

I’ve recently started working on a My Hero Academia-themed fanfiction with a protagonist who is a tiny girl. The story has some wholesome moments and some dark moments so far and two chapters are out. The story will be sfw, and all of the characters are aged up to be over 18.

I was wondering if I could post it on this website as it features a shrunken woman, with the giants being mainly Midnight, Mt. Lady, and her classmates who are all very nice to her so far.

I hope you all have a lovely day/night wherever you are~.