@technomage Thanks. This was a blast to write, and I’m happy it came out as good as it did. It actually started out as a far shorter story, but I kept getting more inspired with more and more ideas until this blossomed into the story you see today.

In truth, I’m going to miss writing this story, but it’s time to move on and give everybody the conclusion to this tale. I’m definitely going to do more long series in the future, but I have a few short story ideas in my head that I can’t wait to get started on.

I have another short story coming down the pipe that I’m pretty excited about, so look forward to that one.

Two very contrasting pieces with a common theme, and I think both are quite sad. An interesting read nonetheless and about the right length I’d say (for me anyway).

In shrinking fantasy fiction, I think what dictates whether a story will work for the reader is the chosen size scale, which was too small for me in this case. That’s no criticism of the writing or the theme of course, it’s just a personal thing (and why many of Minimizer’s stories didn’t grab me for the same reason). I’m aware that many people DO like small size scales, so I’m sure you’ll be just fine with this one.

Bottom line is, did you enjoy writing it? You should always write to please yourself, regardless of anything else.

“Okay. Lana, turn to your right.” She did, turning to face the wall, looking at me with an eyebrow raised. “Now, Danny, press her against the wall.” She moaned enticingly as her breasts were squished against the wall, and Danny also grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling her head back for good measure. Good, he could see where this was going.

“Yes! Be a little rough with her.” Danny did like to play rough sometimes, but this direction was more for me than for him. If I couldn’t stop them from having sex, then I could at least make Lana the subject of someone else’s whims. I couldn’t help smiling as he smacked her on the ass, eliciting a yelp. She moaned immediately afterward and stuck her butt out even more, apparently enjoying it herself, but it was still satisfying to watch.

He placed her right hand on her butt, making her spread herself for him, and slid a hand down her crack to her sex. I felt a hand slide down toward my own, and had to force it away; watching this was getting me hotter than I had imagined it would. Danny was working Lana with two fingers, and it sounded like she was already soaking. He knelt down and tongued her clit, causing her to squeal and arch upwards, then he stood and grabbed her hair, pressing her firmly back against the wall and probing her deeply with his fingers. I gave Danny the occasional direction, mostly to remind them that I was supposed to be making the choices, but he was essentially giving me everything that I wanted from this already. I expressly did not give Lana any instructions – I wasn’t going to give her any agency in this scenario.

I could see that Lana was ready for the next step, and Danny’s nearly-hard cock told me that he wasn’t far behind. I eyed his member for a long moment, imagining things that I could do, and had to bite my fingers to keep myself in check. Instead, I gave Danny another command: “Make her beg for it!” I grinned; this should be entertaining.

He placed his cock in between her cheeks, sliding the shaft up and down a few times, asking her, “Is this what you want? Hmm?” He then slid it farther down to her pussy, then upwards between her legs before vibrating it on her clit, causing a small spasm to run through her. “Or maybe you want more?”

“Please,” she said quietly.

“What?” Danny’s shaft glided smoothly over her slit, and she was moaning incessantly now.

“Please!” she said, more loudly. Before I realized it, I had leaned myself against the wall, pressing my breasts and face into the hard surface, imagining Danny doing the same to me, his gentle but unyielding grip holding me in place, his teasing driving me wild with desire, only to leave my desires unfulfilled until I thought I would burst. This wasn’t the reason that I had directed Danny, but I couldn’t help myself. I felt my wetness drip down a thigh, and their voices became indistinct as I became lost in my fantasy.

I was brought back by a change in Lana’s inflection. “Dan, please! I need it!”

“What do you need?” He was holding her wrists behind her back in his left hand, with his right hand using his meat to tease her.

“I need you to fuck me! I need you to give me that dick!” There it is, I thought, smiling inwardly. Yes, Lana, show us your inner slut.

Danny teased her clit one last time, making Lana shiver and moan, then slid his cock halfway into her. I bit my lip, imagining that invader in my own tunnel. Lana’s words mirrored my thoughts, “Oh God, yes! Make me take it! Make me take every inch of that rock-hard dick!” I felt my heat again, and struggled to maintain control of myself. I realized just how absurd it was to be aroused by the sight of my husband and my best friend, but my mind somehow took the forbidden nature of the situation and twisted it into even greater arousal. It wasn’t me, I told myself, it was that … stuff, whatever it was that Danny had given me. There’s no other way I would be aroused by watching this. By watching Danny’s hard cock filling her, making her squeal, giving her everything that she desired and more.

I didn’t realize just how much control I had lost until I felt a finger enter my pussy, moving to match Danny’s motions. I imagined the feeling of him after the first time I had shrunk, when I still had him inside me, gloriously overfilled. The air, already filled with Lana’s moans, became oversaturated as my own sounds began to slip out. Oh, yes! Danny, give it to me! Just like that! Oh God, I needed this!

Wait, no! Don’t take it away from me! Danny, please, I need it! I feel so empty without you! Can’t you see how my legs are quivering with need? Please, give it back to me!

I begged silently as Lana did the same vocally, and Danny made us wait for a few more interminable seconds before finally giving us what we craved. I closed my eyes, letting the intensity of sensation run through me. When I opened them again, I saw that Danny’s cadence had changed, a subtle change that I instantly recognized. Yes, give me that cum! Make me climax with you! And then … no! No, not that! Not again! Desperate to regain control of myself, I pushed myself away from the wall, letting my body fall backward. It surprisingly didn’t hurt when I fell onto the hard surface, but the shock of it was enough to snap me out of whatever trancelike state the poison had induced in me. Trembling, I pulled myself up onto my knees and looked up at Danny and Lana, seeing that Danny was steadily racing toward the finish. I paused, steadying my breath, then decided to give Danny some help.

“Lana, squeeze!” She didn’t react, not outwardly at least, but I knew from Danny’s reaction that she had heard me. He moaned loudly, then, after two more thrusts, “God damn, girl! You’re going to make me cum!”

“Cum in her ass!” I yelled.

Lana’s head instantly whipped toward me, her eyes wide. “WHAT?!” The look on her face was absolutely priceless, and I doubled over with laughter, unable to respond. Oh, I couldn’t wait to watch that replay!

She laughed in spite of herself. “God, you little whore! I hate you!”

Recovering from my fit of laughter, I realized that Danny was already crossing the finish line, and I had already missed most of it. He was buried to the hilt in Lana, shooting himself deep within her. From the expression on Lana’s face, I guessed that she had been distracted, too, and she wasn’t thrilled about it.

“Whew!” Danny pulled out of Lana, and started backing unsteadily toward the bed. “Holy shit! You two are something else!” He fell backward onto the mattress with a loud sigh, his feet still hanging over the edge. I judged that he was pretty much done for tonight.

I watched Danny for a moment, then I began to turn to see what Lana was doing, but I was startled by a sudden, huge lateral movement. My head swam, and I could feel the enormous fingers pinched around my torso, meaning that Lana must have picked me up and was moving me to somewhere else. After a moment, my speed decreased enough that my vision cleared, and I looked around quickly, trying to determine where I was. Lana was still shifting herself, lying on her back next to the dresser. I looked behind me to see that her hips were slightly up on the wall.

Lana was looking at me through narrowed eyes, a small smile on her lips. “You,” she said, jabbing a massive index finger at me, “have an evil little mind.” I was taken aback by the suddenness of her movements; it didn’t feel right when things so large moved that quickly. “You know, I almost came too, before your little stunt. So, now you owe me one orgasm.” I felt my heart sink. God damn it, Ellie. It had seemed to be going so well, but you just had to poke the bear, didn’t you?

I was suddenly moved to the ground and folded into a straddling position, surprised by how efficiently Lana was able to orient my body with a single hand. Before I could regain my bearings, she slid me rapidly forward on the wet, folded ground, and I knew more from the feel than from the sight that she had placed me at the top of her slit. Underneath me, I could feel the folded skin slide by, her clit poking out, now the size of a volleyball. I was shocked for a moment – last time I had seen her clit, it had been about one-third of its current width.

My own pussy flared to life at the first touch, hot with jealousy from our earlier voyeurism of Danny and Lana, refusing to be denied this time. Lana pressed my shins to the ground, moving me back and forth over her folds, using my body on herself like a pleasure toy, each movement intensifying my own desire despite the ignominious state of affairs. Or maybe partly because of it – my lust had been uncannily twisted tonight. I gritted my teeth, praying that I could contain myself until Lana was done. Concentrating, I could hear that her loud, distant moans were already filling the air. Maybe there was some hope.

Then she let go of me. “Ride me, Ellie! Show me what a sexy little cowgirl you are!” My mind worked frantically, looking for a way to get through this without another orgasm. I quickly decided to pretend to ride Lana’s clit, but use my hands on her instead, sparing myself from the unwanted contact. But my body had its own plan, and was already doing as Lana had commanded, and another arc of pleasure surged through my body as my clit slid against Lana’s. No! Fuck! I had to keep it under control.

But it was too late. My hips worked crazily, and my torso angled forward to maximize the pressure on my button. I could hear Lana’s distant moans as we descended together into our desires. “Oh God! Oh, Ellie, don’t stop! Rub me harder!” I tried to do just that, grabbing nearby folds to pull myself down, increasing the pressure on my clit and hers. “Yes! More!” I pulled still harder, sending myself deeper into a carnal spiral. But it wasn’t enough for Lana, and I felt her massive fingertip on my head. I knew what she was about to do, and sat up straight so that I wouldn’t be flattened by the pressure. Then she pushed down, hard, and I bucked my hips to pleasure us both, now eager for the imminent crescendo. Lana’s cries increased in pitch, mirroring my own as I rode her into oblivion.

No! I had to stop this! The thought forced its way through the swirl of sensations, and I suddenly remembered what was at stake. I begged my unresponsive body to obey, pleading with myself for some sanity in this unreal situation. I heard my cries increase in pitch as the intensity escalated still further, defying my silent pleas. No! I had to … I pushed my hips to the side, and felt Lana’s finger slide off of my head as the supporting frame was broken. I rolled to my back, twitching uncontrollably, my thighs locked in position from the tension remaining in my hips. But I felt myself edging back from the brink of the abyss, and I let myself enjoy my momentary success.

“Ellie! No, you can’t stop!” Lana’s cry was almost a whine, signaling her own desperation. I tried to move away, the futility of it obvious, but I couldn’t simply give up. I was immediately lifted by Lana’s giant finger and thumb, then pressed heavily to her enormous clit, and my body was suddenly her little sex toy once again. She rubbed me back and forth on herself, far more forcefully than I ever could, and my body was wracked by rapturous waves with each motion. I tried to beat my fist against her in anger and despair, but instead my hand was pressed to my own breast, massaging it roughly, desperate to add to the sensations. The abyss suddenly loomed large before me once again, drawing closer with every stroke. My cries stopped having any coherence as another torrent rushed through my body, pushing me over the edge that I no longer realized existed, as all thought became lost in the turbulence. Violent brightness encompassed me, then became colors that swam and merged, mirroring the chaos that had overpowered my mind. I dimly heard Lana as I faded: “Yes! Oh! You tiny, sexy bitch!”

A lifetime later, I was shaking. No, I was being shaken. Being shaken erratically, almost convulsively. A sound broke through my awareness, confusing me for a moment before I realized that it was a person’s voice. Not talking, or even shouting, but something more visceral. More elemental. I tried to open my eyes before realizing that they were already open. As the world started to shakily resolve itself, I saw a face to my left, looking in a random direction. Lana. The source of the sound. Lana. That meant … I turned my attention to myself, and saw that I was being held by gigantic fingers. Still. I had been gone for an eternity, and returned to exactly where I had left. Although … it wasn’t quite exactly. The fingers were larger now, and Lana’s face was farther away. I knew that was important.

The ground beneath me shuddered violently as I was pressed down with an unbearable amount of force. Another shudder, then it settled into a rapid shaking, and I began to move slower and more smoothly. My mind now partially reassembled, I finally realized that Lana had just had her own climax. I slapped my hand on her finger, hoping to get her attention, then continued for about ten more seconds until her eyes shifted to me.

Then her eyes widened. “El! You’re even smaller! What happened?” She brought me closer to her face, and I traveled a hundred feet in an instant. I scowled as I realized that my cataclysmic orgasm had gone entirely unnoticed. Lana saw my expression, but her contented smile didn’t change. “Oh, don’t be so sour. It looks like you enjoyed it just as much as I did!”

I was moved quickly around again as Lana shifted. When my vision righted itself, Lana had her feet underneath her and was standing up. I looked down, saw just how high in the air I was, then quickly looked in any other direction.

“Lana,” I said. “Put me down, please.” There must have been something in my tone, because Lana’s smile vanished as she looked at me, then placed me gently back on the dresser. I sat down, feeling a deep exhaustion. And cold. I hugged my legs to my chest, realizing that my persistent sexual arousal was finally gone. I should have felt elated, but I only felt tired, and sore, and cold. If the effects were wearing off, did that mean that I would grow back to my normal size? I looked at Danny’s phone for a size reference, not seeing any change yet. The phone was still recording an empty area of the room, having been forgotten in all the fervor.

I reached a finger gingerly toward my slit, then jerked it back as soon as it made contact. Holy shit, I was sore! I guessed that it had been masked by that drink, along with my fatigue, until now. But now that it seemed to be wearing off, what would happen to me? Was this situation permanent, or temporary? Would I grow back to my normal size at some point, or be stuck like this forever?

I studied the phone, and my weariness receded as I began to truly realize the precariousness of my situation. Even on its side it was still twice my height. I approached it and held out a hand, horrified when I saw that my spread fingers would barely cover half of the home button. If, God forbid, the effects really were permanent, was it only my size that was changed? My stomach turned as I considered the possibility that it might start all over again the next time I had an orgasm.

I ventured a look over the edge of the dresser, not looking directly down this time. I didn’t think I’d be able to make it down on my own, even if I somehow worked up the courage to try. I tried to think of the things that I would be able to do without help at this size, and felt a new despair. I wouldn’t be able to get down from here, or get food or water, find something to use as clothing, find a place to use for a bathroom, or do much of anything, for that matter. Even if I made it to the floor, I wouldn’t be able to reach anything, and Danny and Lana might not even notice me as they walked around, unknowingly threatening my life.

I sat down, then lay back in defeat as I resigned myself to the fact that I was completely and utterly dependent on them, at least until something changed. On a surface level, I had known all evening what had been happening to me, but this was the first time that I truly felt it, deeply and viscerally. Until now, I hadn’t really accepted what was happening to me, and my mind kept interpreting events as if Danny and Lana had grown. But now, I felt sick at how helpless I had become. So powerless. So inconsequential. So … tiny. I felt tears rising in my eyes, and squeezed them shut, trying to fight off the despondence and find some way to mentally reassure myself. But I couldn’t find any comforting thoughts at the moment.

“You’re not sleeping, are you?” My eyes snapped open, my heart leaping for a worried instant before I saw that Lana was talking to Danny.

“What? No. I was just … resting.”

“Oh, right. I guess I’m not interesting enough to keep your attention?” She turned away from him, then made a show of bending over to pick a piece of clothing off the floor. I felt a rush of anger, no longer masked by my forced arousal.

Lana was still facing away, toying with the piece of underwear that she had picked up. “You still have the other half of that stuff?” she asked innocently. I felt a new chill at the possible implications.

“Yeah. Why? You have something in mind?” Danny responded.

Lana turned to look at him over her shoulder, wearing only her trademark half-smile.

The End
(for now)

@olo so scary!! 😳 :sizeprideheart: :sizeprideheart: :sizeprideheart: Love it!

@diminution-man Yeaaaah, it’s been a while. I’ve been focusing on a different story for a while but I do plan to finish this one at some point, although it may end up being finished on my patreon (I’m between jobs so I have to pay the bills somehow lol)

@Olo I don’t think I’ve made explicit or exclusive cock vore since the post with Brock up above. Sounds like it’s time to take another crack at it 😉

@olo That’s one ride I’d love to take! :vore:

Safaa’s entire world imploded. Waves of pleasure outgrew and crashed down on her. This was no time for discretion or holding back. With her back arched, she spasmed and cried out in pure ecstasy. Her orgasm was fueled and prolonged by the knowledge that it had all been on command. This first time would have been her greatest chance of breaking free and resisting his words and touch. With equal amounts resignation and excitement, she knew that any future attempts at undoing this spell would only be even more futile and weak. With a single hit, she was already hooked on the drug that was Kingston. She had no honest idea of how long she laid there riding each titillating swell and surge. With thoughts of her new permanent status still marinating in her mind, she finally opened her eyes and looked up at her owner and Master.

He simply met her with a smile and began to speak, as if he was waiting for this particular cue to do so.

“I don’t even have to say it - but I’m going to say it anyways - I’m always going to own your little ass and I can do that to you any damn time I want.”

There was no more quipping from Safaa. No denial or retort. All she could do was moan and nod her head as she slowly felt herself pull away from that stream of utter delight.

“End scene.” He said as he loudly snapped his fingers.

In an instant she yelled out, even as she still shook and was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“HOLY…FUCK!..I GOD…-” was all she could manage before he brought his hand down towards her in a gesture for her to slow down.

“Just breathe. Focus on nothing else for the time being. Just breathe.” He instructed, and not just to her. A jolt of adrenaline and excitement ran through him as he watched the entire spectacle beneath him unfold. For the first time that night, he let his shoulders completely relax and slump down, and matched the pace of his little pet’s panting. No matter how many times he did it, witnessing his trained little slut coming on command like that would never get old. As her breathing slowed down to a more reasonable and talkable level he let himself roll to the side. A slow and deliberate move that he had practiced in order to ensure she wasn’t smushed into the bed, or jostled about too much. He lied down on his side and continued to admire her resting form.

“So how was that?” He curiously inquired.

She looked back at him with wide open eyes. “Like I said. Hoooly fuck! Amazing!”

“Is that it?” He said, amused with the response.

“Fuck. It’s a lot for me to unpack. I don’t know what else to say right now. Gimme a moment.” She replied as she looked back up at the ceiling.

“Let’s do an easier question. Did you want to get something to drink, or should we get cleaned up first?”

“Holy shit, I thought you’d never ask. Drink. Drink drink drink!” she said as she used her arms to sit herself up. There was a slight wince as the tightness and soreness of her body started to become apparent.

He reached over and grabbed the vial. It was no source of magical unshrinking serum. It merely contained a small amount of flavored water that he himself had poured in a few minutes prior to the start of their scene.

“I do apologize. They were out of that green watermelon stuff you like down at the restaurant, so I hope you don’t mind fruit punch. I saw just a little hint of disappointment on your face when I first showed it to you.” He said as he unscrewed the lid.

“Not your fault.” she comforted him, as she looked up and licked her lips.

“I could cool it down for you, if you…,” He said, as he was interrupted by a head shake of no from his pet.

“Alright, you’re the boss.” He teased as he lowered it down and placed it between her legs. She eagerly grabbed it and tilted it forward into her mouth.

“Whoa, nice and slow.” He chided her.

She just rolled her eyes and drank, caring little about the spilled drops that hit her face and trickled down her body. After chugging a few immodest and healthy gulps, she pushed back the vial for him to grab and seal up again for later. As he sealed up the lid and gave the vial another little toss, he instructed her. “Okay. Good. You’re a little pancake now. Nice and flat.”

She obediently let herself lie back down. She was a good little pancake, as he shuffled and stood himself up off of the bed. Each movement and rocking of the bed was all the more bearable as she remained flat against the surface.

“Alright. Spatula time.” He dictated from above as he stood at the side of the bed over her. He brought his hand down, palm up in the air, next to her. As he started to apply downward pressure and dig into the soft mattress, he slid towards her. Much like how a spatula would actually pick up a pancake, he scooped her up into his palm. He took one look down at the floor, and with a cautious and deliberate pace he began to walk towards the bathroom. The beam of light across the floor reminded him of the fact that he had neglected to turn off the lightswitch after taking his shower, he gave himself a disappointed head shake as he walked through the doorway.

Showing concern at this shake, his little palm pancake spoke up with “Was I good? Did I do a good job?”

“Yes. You did fucking incredible!” He reassured her.

“What was that head shake just now about, then?”

“I forgot to turn off the goddamn light in here when I was singing.”

“Hah! You fucking dork!” She said, with a hint of relief in her voice.

As she teased, he used his free hand to subtly turn on the knob of the bathroom faucet. He just needed a slow, easy flow of warm water to come out of it. This part was always trial and error. It must have been some plumbing union rule that every hotel bathroom had to have its own unique water pressure and range of temperatures. As he continued fiddling and testing the water temperature, he resumed the conversation.

“Was the special agent angle alright?”

“I didn’t mind it. It could use some work, and I think you applied the knee jerk awkward creepiness a little too early, but I still thought it was fun to work with.” She honestly answered. She continued “By the way, how the fuck do you know the national anthem of Costa Rica? Was that actually their national anthem? You told me you’ve never traveled out of the country before.”

He briefly winced at the touch of water that was too hot before readjusting the knob and answering “Oh, that. Yeah, it really is the anthem! When I was 10, we were going to go for a little trip down there. Mom and Dad had it planned out a year in advance and I was so excited. Practically memorized the wikipedia page for it. But then that whole thing happened, and no one was traveling for a while. And we just kind of forgot about it. But the anthem is still stuck in my head.”

“Aww, poor baby.” She jeered.

“I fucking love the name you used, by the way. Safaa. Safaaaa. You’re gonna have to use that one again. It just rolls off the tongue. Just like you.”

She rolled her eyes back and momentarily covered her face.

"Fuck me. What did I do to deserve an owner as cheesy and full of bad jokes as you? Also I’ll have you know I deserve all the Oscars for keeping all my shit together when you told me your name was Kingston. Fucking Kingston. Who the fuck names their child Kingston? I wasn’t sure if you were going to shrink me or try to sell me cocaine. Fuck. That’s not even a real name. That’s the capital of Jamaica.” She let out, as he found a satisfactory temperature and began moving her closer to the faucet.

“Hey, don’t be mean. You know how I feel about using my real name when we do this kind of stuff. I just went off of the first result I got from some online name generator. Tease whoever programmed that why dontcha?” He said with a feigned look of sadness on his face as he brought her under the stream of water.

“Maybe don’t use online name generators like a total hack? At least you’ll have a few more days to actually work and think of a better name while I recover. I still can’t feel my fucking toes by the way." she spoke with a little more volume as warm water washed over her chest.

"Oh my god! Fuck! Sorry about that! Was that when I dropped you like 2 feet onto the mattress?” He momentarily panicked as he brought her out from under the water.

“Oh no! I really liked that part. I mean, it was kinda fucked, but you know me. No. It was those damn shoes. I’m not used to wearing them any more, so they mess up my feet.” She corrected him as he used his other hand to grab a soap dispenser. He lifted it above her and squeezed out a few drops of moisturizing liquid soap, that landed on her tits in a way reminiscent of the cumshot she had just taken minutes before.

As he set the soap dispenser back down, he remarked “Sure yeah. But it’s still kinda my fault for keeping you like this all the time and hardly ever giving you the chance to wear…well, anything.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re really fucking sorry.” She sarcastically retorted as he began to rub and lather up the soap on her and return her to the water. Neither of them spoke as he gently washed and massaged her tired little body. She really did miss having clothes, and was sure to brattily remind him all the time of how convenient and ideal things would be if she was allowed any. But as his gaze and his fingers moved across her naked self, she felt a sense of contentment. In being ogled and fondled as his toy and plaything, there was a fulfillment of purpose that she seldom found before all of this. Not even being flipped over for the process to resume on her backside could diminish the little high she experienced in being handled and treated like this. Just another one of his things to be cleaned and taken care of.

He turned off the faucet and moved his newly cleaned little toy above the small hand towel that he had already folded and laid out before all of this. With the fingers of his other hand, he gently slid her off of his palm and onto the soft white fibers. She let out a little squeak as she landed and quickly grabbed a corner of the towel to pull over herself as she immediately felt the absence of his warm hands. She turned to the side and looked at him. With his usual trademark brand of swagger, as if he was some movie star, he reached around her to grab a few sheets of tissue paper. Every action of his, even in something as mundane as cleaning off his cock, still managed to mesmerize her. Maybe one of these days he would eventually tell her how exactly he manages to shrink and regrow her at will, but she honestly preferred the mystery he curated and the sense of theatricality that he always strove for. There was nothing like a little roleplay now and then to keep her on her toes.

“What are you going to do?” She inquired from within her cotton cocoon.

“Finish cleaning up. Pick everything up off of the floor and bed. Then do my best to wipe up the mess on the mattress. And maybe just stay up for a while after that. I think I’ll resew the buttons back onto your shirt again.” He listed off.

“I’d love to stay up and watch you - but you tired me right the fuck out. If I fall asleep here, just carry me to bed.”

“Oh, no worries. I’m used to it. You know I have such a hard time falling asleep in hotel rooms.”

THE END

Wheeeee!

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.

I sighed happily.

“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.

“Mine.”

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.