See…the yandere lover in me wants someone wholly obsessed with teasing, toying with, and occasionally taking care of me, as his solitary little prized possession. But the needy social part of me would need someone else around, so I guess I wouldn’t mind a few other girls.
It depends on their behavior. At 1/32 size is what they awaken after being shrunk and finding themselves utterly naked. If they are very good, they might become a bit bigger in size. Very bad, much tinier like 1/100th of their normal size. Horrid behavior, tinier than that.bolded text
Always loved the thought of keeping a little toy and having such little regard for their life and that I don’t care about ending their life…but not wanting to waste a broken toy, so I use some sort of magic to bring them back to life to use and abuse once more.
People and tinies alike seem to think the worst thing you can do to someone when they’re shrunk is to kill them the one time, and I think it’s much more fun to bring them back and do it over and over and over again.
Besides, if it’s ever accidental (when the micro is under three inches, it’s just bound to happen eventually) I don’t have to worry about losing a valued toy. I can just bring them back, good as new, and ready to get used for some other depraved giant purpose.
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My first exposure was through Transformers Armada when it aired on Toonami, especially the friendship between Alexis and Starscream when he had defected to the Autobots, and I was bummed that their friendship was never mentioned/expanded upon again in Energon and Cybertron
@Olo Thank you so much! Yeah, he’s totally able to “cheat” at any moment, it’s the first time I’ve written someone who is as close to god-like as a human can be. Honestly that’s part of the reason I might revisit them at some point, I think it would be interesting to try and write something from his perspective.
Having said that, this was a fun diversion and all but I’m also glad to have since returned to Aiden and Evie… I still have so much left to write for that before it’s ready eeek
Re: the glasses/ contacts. I’ve always imagined my shrinking to actually be done with magic. Even if the contraption looks like tech, because only magic allows me to handle the problems I’d have if just my natural human body shrank: my substantial dental work and IUD would burst through me like huge grenades. No thanks!
Sooo in my stories I magically shrink all the things I would still have on me even if I was “naked”, if I want the shrinking-out-of-clothes trope, if I want it to make a little more logical sense, then the clothing stays too, so maybe the shrinking tech gives wiggle room of an inch or two outside of the skin when it’s selecting matter to shrink. This would keep glasses and clothing intact but not a purse.
Anyway, back to shrinking women problems. Transportation is a big one. If a giant is carrying you, they have to be more careful than someone carrying a raw egg. Or they would need to have a container they prepared for it ahead of time.
Sitting in a chest pocket - assuming the giant is very careful to not bump against things - is really the safest place you could hope for an average guy to have available. Every time I wear a button-up shirt with a chest pocket I think about how it would be perfect for if I ran across a tiny person.
The big hoodie pockets that go across the center of the belly on sweatshirts without zippers would also be cozy. Almost like a kangaroo pouch. Those aren’t very fashionable right now, though.
“You know what?” I asked rhetorically. “I’m feeling better now.”
And I really was; it seemed like that fit had worked off the last of my frustrations. With a clearer head, I considered Miranda, still trapped in my grip.
Carefully, I began to untangle her from my arms, still keeping my grip in place. “I think we’re about done here. I proved my point, I vented. I’m about ready to go to bed…”
I trailed off as I considered Miranda, neck and lower back in one hand, her head covered by my fingers, and ass resting in the palm of the other. She was free to move, for the most part, but either what I had done to her in my fit, or the way I was holding her head, had stopped her from doing anything more than tremble slightly in my grasp.
“But we need one last talk before then.” I finished.
She flinched at that, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret her fear.
“I want to make something clear, MIranda. This, what happened here, isn’t going to be your normal standard of behavior. You angered me, and I punished you, and that got mixed with my general… frustrations with how things are going.”
Gently, I brushed at her hair with my thumb, but she only shook again at my touch.
“As a pet, I’m taking away choices from you, yes. I’ll use you, of course. At the same time, though, is with less focus on letting you do things yourself, I can do more for you. Take care of you, spoil you, even.”
Quietly, I lowered my head and exhaled onto her exposed skin. She shuddered and arched in my hands, and I realized that her nipples were hard, that they had been the entire time.
“We both know, Miranda, that there’s more I could have been doing for you, to you, from the start. But I didn’t, because I was waiting for you. Waiting for you to want them…”
I exhaled again, slowly, from the tips of her breasts down to her legs, and she moaned almost inaudibly.
“Or maybe you were just too afraid to ask.” I continued. “Maybe because you were afraid of me, maybe you were afraid of giving up control to me, voluntarily, when you already have so little, and worried about not getting it back. I’m not going to go beyond this, tonight, but I want you to think about something: you being a pet? This is a temporary situation. In a week or two, maybe, I’d be willing to go back to the way things were before, give things another shot. Not force you to fight for things, allow you choices in being picked up or not, and so on. But.”
I stopped, and this time dropped the smallest bit of spit I could onto her breasts, before I breathed on them once more. This time, she moaned louder, lewder, even as she visibly fought against the impulse.
“Aren’t you even just a little bit curious?” I asked, whispered really, into her ear.
“What?” She said, so startled by my question that she responded on instinct.
“Aren’t you even just a little bit curious how it would feel?” I had leaned in even more as I spoke, whispering so quietly it barely shook her hair even with how close I was now.
“To give into me, to surrender? You’re fighting me so much, Miranda. Aren’t you tired? Aren’t you tired of fighting so hard to act like something your not? Doesn’t it sound nice to just… close your eyes, and let me take care of everything for you? To protect you from the world? To spoil you? Don’t you want to all the pleasures you haven’t been allowing yourself to indulge in, all this time? I know you’re afraid of me… but in your heart of hearts, did you ever think I’d really mistreat you?”
I let her consider it for a moment, watched her tremble, her head shaking back and forth in frantic denial under my grip, before I moved in for the kill.
“You’re not stupid, Miranda. I’m sure you could act like a well behaved, if down on her luck, person, and in that week or so we could try it all again. We can pretend that you aren’t a squeaking little thing that I keep in my house, if you wanted. But that’s what I want you to think about.”
I moved so my mouth was less than an inch from the tiny, delicate construction of her ear, and when I spoke I could only barely hear my own words.
“Will you want to go back to that?”
I wanted to keep going, to push harder, but I had done that plenty today. It was better, now, for her to think about what I said on her own. Instead, I got up gently, even as I lowered my hand down her back so she could see again.
“Don’t worry, Miranda.” I said reassuringly as she startled again at my movement. “I’m just taking you to the bathroom. I imagine you want to clean up?”
After a second she nodded, almost reluctantly, and I smiled warmly.
“I thought so. I’ll just let you take care of yourself now, alright? We can talk more in the morning.”
I didn’t get much of a response from her, but by the time we reached the bathroom and I flicked the lights on, her gaze had gone from terror filled to bewildered and wary. Gently, I lowered her to the tiled floor, and walked away without another word.
When I returned to the table, I found Sydney, obediently staying where she was told and kneeling in the remains of the ice cream. I nodded in approval before picking the entire bowl up and carrying it into the kitchen, noting absently how she fell onto her side in the process, further coating her body in the dessert.
Setting it on a counter for a moment, I started the water to warm in the sink before plucking the Min from where she lay. Absently, I considered her as I rinsed out the worst from the bowl, placing it into the dishwasher.
“You’re good at listening.” I told her, while my free hand checked the water temperature.
Sydney flinched, slightly, before realizing that it was a compliment.
“Thank you, Master.” She said softly.
“You’d do well to keep at it; keep your head down and do what you’re told.” I advised, turning my full attention to her.
“You may have noticed that things are a bit unstable here at the moment. Play your cards right, Sydney, and you might find yourself in a much better place than where you started. Do you understand me?”
She nodded hesitantly. “I understand, Master.”
I smiled and lowered the pressure. “Good girl. Now hold your breath.”
I waited a beat, then brought her into the flow of water, allowing it to rinse the worst of the stains from her before pulling her out.
I looked her over briefly, checking for any areas that were still glaring dirty, before stopping and examining her again, slowly. It was something I had known before, of course, but dripping in water, with the way her gasping breaths jiggled her chest, I was forced to admit…
“Damn,” I said feelingly. “You really are something, aren’t you?”
I had been planning to clean her off just enough to keep the house from being a mess, but instead I found myself licking my lips as I trailied a finger up her leg.
Miranda, I knew, would have jerked away from my touch, at least if she had seen it coming. Sydney, however, moved into it, and without a shred of reluctance.
There was fear in her eyes, of course, but there had always been fear in her, and it didn’t stop the way she moved to stay in contact with me, even as my finger pulled away, or the silent gasp that I saw more than heard.
“You’re ready to be a good pet, aren’t you?” I stated more than asked, returning the finger to circle the small of her back, and she shuddered in my hand.
“Y-yes, Master,” Sydney gasped. “Please, Master. Whatever you want. Wha-whatever you want, Master, I’ll be good. I’ll be yours.”
I wasn’t sure if she was overacting, or if Miranda was just that good at hiding how much she felt at my touch, but either way this responsiveness was a nice change of pace. Slowly, I dragged my fingertip up her back, gently applying pressure between her shoulder blades for an instant, before I moved it to her neck, and the collar she still wore on it.
Before she could react, it released and fell into my hand, and Sydney gave a sound of relief that had to be as much physical as it was psychological; they weren’t actually meant to be worn all the time, after all, just as a tool for identification when leaving the home. There was a red ring around her throat already where it had begun to chafe.
I locked the ends together and tossed it lightly in my palm a few times, before losing interest and placing the collar into my pocket.
One of my many preparations for Miranda included a bottle of Min-friendly body wash at the sink for just such an occasion. There was a strange irony to the fact I was doing this for someone else, but I had reached at point where I didn’t care: here, at least, a woman lay in my hand, naked, and if she was not eager than she was still willing. Sydney looked up at me with wide eyes, legs spread and almost seeming to pose in my grasp as I squirted out a dab of soap on my index finger.
“My good pet.” I commanded.
“Yours.” she begged.
Sensitivity or not, there was no way she wanted me, the man who had nearly ripped her arm off not so long ago, in any genuine fashion. She still flinched every time she saw me, cringed at my every move. Even if she was into that kind of treatment, it wouldn’t explain such a quick turnaround.
This was clearly nothing more than a desperate attempt to protect herself with only asset she had available to her, to try and buy herself favorable treatment with her body.
But that was the thing about Mins, wasn’t it? The feelings didn’t have to be real, just the obedience. Devotion would come in time, after all, with Stockholm Syndrome and Giant’s Allure, and even if it didn’t, even if it continued to be nothing more than an act…
What did it matter? I didn’t care about her feelings, I just wanted her body and her willingness. There was no way for her to betray me, or harm me, or steal from me, like a traditional gold digger could; I owned her. What else could Sydney do but continue to play along, if only for her own safety?
I grinned the shark’s grin, and for a moment she froze, facade breaking at what she saw in it.
Once again, Sydney had made a choice without fully understanding the situation. Once again, I didn’t care to correct her mistake.
As I rubbed my fingers and thumb together, spreading out the soap, her expression return to ‘lustful’, and she cooed appreciative as I began to slowly massage it onto her stomach, twisting and turning in my hand with every indication of delight. Still, the act grated on me, and before too long I cut in.
“Enough.” I told her finally. She stared at me with genuine confusion, so I elaborated. “The act. I know you’re putting on a show, and I-”
“No!” Sydney yelled in sudden terror. Then she winced as she realized she had interrupted me, before she kept protesting anyways. “Master! I, I wouldn’t dare to… I mean, I…”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. Oh, physically you may be enjoying it to some extent…”
I ran my finger over the stiffened tips of her breasts, before dragging it between her legs, ignoring the way she yelped and squirmed at my suddenly rough treatment. Pinching the liquid now coating it between my fingers, I showed Sydney how it stuck to my skin as she blushed violently.
“And that’s good and all, but you make it sound like you’re going to cum, here and now, and we haven’t even started the heavy petting. I know you think I’m a madman, but do me the common courtesy to stop pretending I’m stupid as well. I’m using you for my own reasons, you’re letting me use you for yours. I’m not here to make you feel good, Sydney, I’m here to get my own pleasure from using you.”
Pushing my finger onto her mouth, I held it there until she gave in to my unspoken demand and began to lap at her own fluids meekly. As I felt the tiny little muscle’s touch against my fingertip, I smiled.
“Just like that. Good girl. You’re nothing more than my toy, Sydney, and you’ll never be anything more than that. Don’t act otherwise. Don’t get airs about your own importance. You can call me Master all you want, and fawn over my every word, begging for attention you’re too afraid to enjoy; we both know you’ll mean it soon enough, even if it’s just an act at the moment. But there’s no point in you trying to fluff up my ego. You can have as dramatic an ‘orgasm’ as you want, Sydney, and you’ll still be in the exact same place as you’d be if you didn’t go through the bother: here. Being held in my hands, being touched and toyed with as I please, and unable to do anything about it.”
I tightened my grip on her slightly, and brought my other finger up, rubbing it over her face, coating her face in her own drippings.
“And if you like it? If it makes you feel valued? Safe? Wanted? Good for you. If you feel violated? Used? Worthless? Too bad: that’s your problem, not mine. Your opinions, Sydney, are just as worthless as your attempts to resist me. Your only value lies in your body, and your ability to do as you are told. Clear?”
At some point during all this her flush had grown and spread until her shoulders and the tops of her breasts were all scarlet red. Sydney looked at me, panting slightly, face still smeared with her own lubricant, and let out a breathy sigh that sounded more genuine than every sound she’d made thus far.
“Of course, Master.”
As an interesting note, I’ll admit I took the ‘aren’t you even just a little bit curious’ line from a dark comedy video I found on youtube, and I kind of wrote this to the classic Lavender Town theme.
As one of those lore-y side notes, Giant’s Allure isn’t something I think will be naturally explained, so I’ll just spell it out. There’s studies out there that say that taller people get paid X amount more than people of average height, right? Giant’s Allure refers to something past that, past the point where the pay gap stops (I… think that’s a thing? If you’re tall enough that stops being a thing? Don’t quote me obviously), to where one person is so much larger than the other that it humbles the smaller person, makes them meek and subordinate.
It’s a theoretically sweet spot, basically, about how big someone has to be to command someone smaller, as well as a theory to help explain how oddly obedient Mins are to normal sized people, and how easy they seem to fall in love/worship to them, though there’s significant academic conflict if there’s just something biologically different in them, or maybe both. Because of her ‘great’ size, BTW, Sydney is actually of some non-insignificant interest to those who want to try and test to find that point. They hope they can place her in front of a child and find a point where the magic obedience charisma stops working, though for obvious reasons there’s so many other things happening that it never goes anywhere.
@green Nice, very nice! I especially like the fact that you prefer that she never loses her bratty behavior! If I was ever really shrunk I feel as though I would never be able to stop being a brat completely lol and I would definitely ALWAYS be challenging the pet/owner role. Very cool, thank you for responding 😎
I definitely would shrink a woman in a world where everything about it was already figured out and safe and common with a partner who felt like her shrunken self was her “true” self. It just feels like it makes sense to me.
I’d want to be in control of her shrinking, though. Sometimes I’m in the mood to cuddle a proportional three foot tall woman, sometimes, I want to feel use a four inch woman as my little lap fidget toy.