@tiny-ivy This was an excellent story

Chapter 7: Shift in Atmosphere Hanz gazed longingly at the tank full of tinies as though perusing an all-you-can-eat buffet. It was rare Hanz got to look down at people. The 5’2” goth was pretty used to being shoved around even by high-schoolers in the area. He’d always wished he was a bit taller. Then the shifters arrive. They were everything he had always wished for. People who couldn’t look down on him. People who would respect and fear him. People he could use however he wanted. Ernest was a little put off by the whole thing. He knew Hanz was a kinky little bitch boy. Nobody would let him do half the shit Hanz let him do in just five minutes of knowing him. And it wasn’t like Ernest was all that gung-ho to protect the shifters either. He’d love the shifter problem to go away, and if Hanz is getting off while dealing with it, all the better. But something about keeping what was essentially a talking beetle to worship your dick just sat oddly with him. Ernest walked over to check on Hanz as he lifted Stephanie and Katie out of their new habitat. Hanz turned around and his smug, sadistic smirk turned to a needy, submissive gaze back at his roommate, trying once again not to just stare at the bulge stretching his underwear. Katie had become accustomed to the fact that her small stature would make the people of this world look much bigger. So she was legitimately shocked at exactly how big Ernest actually was. Hanz was only at eye level with Ernest’s chest. Ernest’s 6’4” height, his rippling muscles, and his confident demeanor couldn’t have contrasted more with the scrawny, short, effeminate roommate. As Hanz’s eyes drifted down once more, Hanz gave him a smug smirk. As weird as he thought Hanz’s interests were, he still knew exactly how to work up his short sub. “What’s the matter? Are my undergarments making you uncomfortable?” Hanz turned beet red and turned away completely. “No! I mean, yes! I mean… maybe a little?” “Oh, poor thing! Maybe I should just take these off then.” Ernest’s finger dug into the front of his underwear and he started slowly sliding them down his body. Hanz’s eyes transfixed on the sweaty muscle man’s crotch until finally, a thick rod emerged from within. Katie and Hanz both gazed in wonder at the sheer size of it. “Can I…” “Put the bugs back, and then we’ll see” “But can I just… It’ll feel really good, I promise!” Ernest didn’t really know what Hanz had in mind, but he was hardly prudish about trying new things. Besides, seeing his new roommate already weak in the knees made him want to do unspeakable things to him. “Fine, just this once.” Hanz’s eyes lit up like Christmas tree lights. Katie’s body lurched as Hanz brought her to his mouth. He placed the scared woman onto his tongue and snapped his jaw shut. Katie tried to kick and punch against the wall of teeth in front of her, but his captor’s tongue knocked her off balance over and over again. Each time, she would rush forward and try again to free herself. But in the dark and constantly disoriented by the shifting of the tongue, she soon found herself unable to distinguish forward from backwards. The light shone inside the dark, damp cave of Hanz’s mouth only for a short time, however, as something else entered his maw. But it was just enough light to see exactly what it was that would be joining her. After all, the glistening slit and surrounding bush had already burned itself into Katie’s mind. Hanz’s tongue scooped her up and pressed her into the warm, pulsing rod as it scoured it from top to bottom, dragging Katie along for the ride. Saliva filled Katie’s mouth and nose. Every time she could get them clear enough to breathe in, she would find herself smothered against the titanic cock above her. Katie tried to grab anything to free herself. A tooth, a uvula, anything that would help her free herself from the smothering presence of the cock and tongue. Her wish would unfortunately be granted. As she kicked and crawled at everything and anything her foot became jammed. Whatever her foot had caught, it quickly dragged her away from danger. Or at least that’s what she thought. As she finally sucked in air, she felt around and realized exactly where she was. Her foot had gotten wedged in Ernest’s foreskin. She pushed against the tip of the cock when her entire world lurched. For all Ernest’s skepticism, the blowjob wasn’t half bad. The light squirming against his cock in addition to the generous licks from his new fuckboy was already getting him hard faster than usual. Out of nowhere, he felt his foreskin get suddenly stimulated. The little shifter was simultaneously peeling at his foreskin, and massaging his tip with her tiny little hands. Ernest grabbed Hanz’s head and really started ramming him. He sat back down on the bed, dragging his newest friend with benefits with him. Hanz was practically in heaven. On the one hand, he had two tiny bitches at his mercy. One was being mercilessly battered against his lover’s cock by his tongue, and Stiffy was face first dragged against his own cock, licking and serving it like it was her god. On the other hand, the giant beefy hunk that had already taken him for all he had a few nights ago was now using him as little more than a human cocksleeve for his own enjoyment. His strong hands clamped the sides of his head as the behemoth’s thick dick penetrated his throat pussy. He could feel each thrust against his choker. It was the practically the perfect combination of overwhelming domination and obedient submission. Normally, when Hanz used Stiffy to jack off, he would gently massage her into his throbbing erection. He always took his time to really soak in the sheer humiliation of his shrunken toy. He would alternate between rough play and softer play to keep her alive to serve him another day. Today, though, he was relentlessly horny. As Hanz dutifully served Ernest’s erection, he gave no consideration at all to the tiny woman dutifully serving his own erection. The skin began to peel from her muscle. She couldn’t even scream as a wall of musky flesh smothered her. Katie slammed against the back of Hanz’s throat. She could see the gaping hole into the abyss of his stomach. She latched onto the side of Ernest’s cock and climbed forward along its side. She made it only half way along when she was once again swatted by the tongue. She was almost lapped up completely when a sudden surge of white liquid surged up from behind her. Ernest moaned as he reached climax. He emptied his balls right into the awaiting submissive’s mouth. “God, was getting this guy’s number a great idea”, he thought to himself. Hanz opened his mouth for him and showed him the stew of splooge inside. Floating in the ocean of white was the shifter that had been forced against his sensitive tip. Hanz looked up at him like a god judging his followers. “Should I shwollow, mashtew?” “No, spit that out. You can’t go around eating bugs you find off the ground. It’s not sanitary.” Thick white cream spills from Hanz’s mouth as Katie takes a goopy ride down the corner of his mouth, onto the front of his shirt as he sits in a heap on the ground. Ernest picks the small, cum-covered woman out of the growing stain on the front of his fuckmate’s shirt. He took her over to the bathroom to clean her off while Hanz assessed the damage on Stiffy. Stiffy was basically no more. What used to be a fully formed woman was now red goop splattered across his hand and cock. He was a bit disappointed that the toy he had been training for almost a month had broken in a moment of horny weakness. But he could get over it. After all, he had so many new toys now. Ernest put the stopper down in the sink. Once the water rose, he squirted some soap into the pool of water and placed Katie inside. The water was surprisingly comfy. Not too warm and not too cold. She was a bit surprised to have such nice accommodations, especially after what had happened. Katie scrubbed and scrubbed. She felt gross all over, but was at least glad to get this mess off of herself. It slowly began to wash away. Ernest looked down at the bathing shifter. He had to admit, the small one certainly knew how to make a person feel over the moon. Perhaps Hanz was onto something with this one. Besides, it was cute watching the little thing scrubbing the cum and spit out of her hair. Once Katie felt sufficiently clean, she tried to climb the side of the sink. Her wet feet couldn’t get any traction on the smooth sink walls. She slid backwards into the water again. Ernest gave her a soft smile and lifted her up onto a hand towel. Even the hand towel was too impractically large at her size to use properly, but using one of the corners, she tried her best. As she struggled lifting the heavy cloth, Katie felt the ground around her shake and rise into the air. As Ernest picked up the shifter and the towel, he curled the ends of the towel around her. Initially, she panicked as the walls closed in around her. But instead of crushing her, Ernest was shockingly gentle. Her world was surrounded in a blanket of warm fuzz, slowly and softly drying her from every angle. Ernest was careful not to hurt her. She shut her eyes and let the gentle movement around her carry her body. As Ernest unfolded the hand towel, the shifter lay down in his palm, seemingly fast asleep. Its eyes fluttered open and it blushed seeing him look at her. She tried to cover herself, which only caused Ernest to give a little chuckle. He went back to the main room and placed Katie back into the terrarium set up for her. Hannah ran over to hug her as Ernest walked away. They simply embraced each other, glad to be together again. Katie was exhausted from the experience she just endured. She slowly drifted off in the middle of the day to the feeling of Hannah’s arms around her, and the sound of Ernest giving Hanz another round.* Katie avoided a terrible fate this time, but will it last? Will the trio be able to navigate their new position as Hanz’s pets? And how has this changed the atmosphere around Ernest’s dormroom? Find out next time!

@mrgoblinging7 Probably a dare. Betcha can’t down a whole one alive! GULP Whoops, guess we have to find a new Tracy.

@mrgoblinging7 This is nice, I hope she’s only scaring the tiny one.

@mrgoblinging7 if this was really an accident, next time, just shrink a paramedic to keep your tinies alive, and keep them in the same cage. You’re welcome for the tiny care tip! 🧑‍️

@olo Haha silver (stomach) lining

@i-am-insane Oh shit, really!? I couldn’t find a source for it. I feel kinda stupid now if that’s true.

Lana shook and trembled while taped down on the desk. Max had just crushed eight women to death between his toes. He attempted to calm her down, but she was beside herself with fear. Max dumped the remaining five women from his pouch onto the desk alongside Lana. They all had heard the commotion outside and could only imagine the worst. Max couldn’t really blame them. After all, from their perspective, this must really feel like the end for them. They were all going to be sacrificed to help his friend adjust to the world she found herself in. He felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his size and a reaffirmed resolve to save Lana from herself. “Now you five have a very important task. See my tiny friend taped to the desk? I need you to set a good example for her. So I expect you all to obey everything I tell you. If you don’t, the consequences will be severe. Do you understand?” One of the women panicked and made a dash for the edge of the desk. She was about to jump when she peered over the edge. The vertical drop was far more than she could handle. She hesitated for a single moment, but a moment was all it took. Max’s hand descended from above like a bolt of lightning and smashed her like a mosquito. Max looked at her, then wiped his hand on his shirt. It made his hand feel less icky, but it left a pretty noticeable stain. He would have to wash that out later. “That’s what happens to bad examples. If you value your lives, you’ll be good examples to our friend Lana from now on. If you understand, kneel.” Not one of the small survivors remained standing after that display. Soon not a single person among the four were standing upright, falling on their hands and knees hoping that their ordeal would end. Max was pretty relieved that they submitted so easily. It was clear Lana wasn’t taking these deaths well, so the smoother things went from here, the better. Looking over the remaining four women, he mulled over his decision for who to start the next lesson with. Looking over the group, he noticed one that was perfect for the demonstration. The woman in question had long brown hair, cute dimpled cheeks, and toned abs just like Lana. Her rear was round and bubbly, and her chest was about medium-ish. She was even about a centimeter taller than the others, so she would be easy to see. She was the perfect dummy to demonstrate the next lesson with. Snatching up the poor soul, Max lifted her between two of his fingers and held her above Lana and the rest of the group. “I think you’ll be helping me with my demonstration next. What’s your name?” “Sh-sheryll! My name is Sheryll. Please, don’t hurt me! I have money! I can give you whatever you want. Just please don’t…” “I’m not going to hurt you. Well, at least as long as you obey. Can you do that for me, Sheryll?” She nodded quickly. Every eye was on Max and Sheryll, unsure of what Max would do to the poor woman. They didn’t want to see, but couldn’t turn away. “Good. Only a short while ago, my friend La-la got into a bit of a tough situation. She was accosted by a guy at the bar. They got into a fight and La-la was almost killed. He would have squashed her if I hadn’t rescued her. So now we have to help Lana how to survive these sorts of scrapes. So Sheryll, I want to touch your body. Are you going to be a good example and let me, or are you going to be a bad example?” Sheryll started to cry, but she didn’t really have any other choice. She was already between his fingers and had nowhere to escape to. She tensed up. With no options left, she simply responded, “Do it.” Delighted how easily he managed to convince her to help, Max pinched the bottom of Sheryll’s shirt and peeled it over her head. His thumb kneaded at her breasts long enough to get the point across, but short enough, he hoped, to not cause too much discomfort to his new model. He made sure Lana got a really good look at exactly what was going on. She needed to know what she was in for. He figured it would be better for her to be prepared when this eventually happened to her someday. The terrified woman was whimpering in Max’s grasp, though he couldn’t hear it. Lana watched in horror as her best friend molested a woman in front of her eyes, and one that looked very similar to herself. The tape tugged the hair on her head as she tried to rip herself free, but couldn’t move an inch. Looking into the eyes of her captor’s victim, she saw just how defeated her stare truly was. It was the look of someone who had given up completely. Satisfied, Max placed Sheryll on the floor. “That’s enough now. Thank you for helping me with my demonstration. You can go now.” The worn-out, half-naked woman stared at the man who not but a few seconds ago violated her confused, so Max elaborated. “Go on. I’m sure you don’t want to stay around here. I don’t need you for anything else. You’ve already been a big help for somebody so small. Just head down the hall and when you get to the front of the house, use the doggy door to leave.” Sheryll didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted away before the giant could change his mind. Max turned back to the table and readied for the next lesson. Lana shook as he snatched up another woman to do god knows what to. This class was far from over.

Chapter Five It was the most intense climax I had ever had. It felt as if Pet had seized me by the prostate and was squeezing every last drop out of me. As dire as Pet’s straits had been lodged between my ass cheeks and balls, she would have been in far greater peril between my surging cock and manic grip. I again wanted to relax in the afterglow, but Pet’s repose was less than secure, so I stayed slouched while I reached around my thigh and gathered her into my grip. I clasped her to my chest and kept my hand over her as she lay atop my pounding heart. She only moved to fill and empty her lungs, her fluttering breath tickling my skin. I simultaneously wanted to hold her tight and give her the room to stretch and breathe free. Both of us were sticky, and neither of us smelled fresh. “Let’s take a real bath, Pet,” I said. Not a word was spoken as I eased us into the warm, soapy water. I was quite content to watch Pet glide between my legs, pull herself up by my cock, and stretch herself out on my thigh. She knew she had been a good girl, and she only had to look into my face to be reassured. Dinner that night was beef and vegetables stir-fry with rice. I decided to have a beer, and Pet accepted a dropperful in her mug. Tomorrow I get her dining stuff, I resolved. Toward the end of the meal, after I had nearly finished my beer, Pet surprised me again. “Sir,” she asked, “what does it feel like to have someone in your mouth?” “Blissful,” I said without hesitation. “The world collapses until you are only aware of the sensations of the tiny person contained within you, totally at your mercy and open to your appetites.” I had no idea how long I had been waiting to tell that to someone. Pet considered this, and she didn’t move—not even reflexively—when I leaned down to bring my face close to her. “What does it feel like to be in someone’s mouth?” I asked recklessly. She tilted her head and gave me a stare I had never before seen from her at this size. She seemed to think that was sufficient response, but I didn’t know what to make of it. “C’mon, Pet,” I pressed. “It’s fucking terrifying, whaddaya think?!” she exploded. She was so agitated that I thought she only kept her seat as a way of suppressing the instinct to flee. “I got the impression that you liked it,” I said deliberately, trying not to provoke her further. “What else was I gonna do? Dude, I’m four inches tall and I have no idea how to get back to normal!” she cried. “My life is basically over.” She crumpled in on herself, sobbing. She’s as surprised by herself as I am, I thought. She knows she shouldn’t have asked me that first question, but her curiosity got the better of her and now we’re here, grieving her old life. Only way forward is through. I reached forward and she didn’t notice or react as I gathered her into my grip and brought her close. I tried to keep a soft but solemn expression as I lightly stroked her back with the tip of my middle finger. She continued sobbing, eventually burying her face between my thumb and forefinger, right where she had bitten me the day before. I was at a loss, and I dared not say anything just yet. It was going to take her more than a day to process this, and what she needed from me was consistency. Reliability. Practicality. I couldn’t put her to bed like that, so I simply waited until her sobs had subsided. She raised her head to look at me, and I saw it: a pleading in her eyes, an honest hope that I could provide an answer. “So start a new life,” I said, and put her to bed. I didn’t sleep well. My worries about Pet were scattered and intangible, so I ended up focusing on whether I really wanted to give her sharp utensils. I couldn’t come to a confident decision about that. Pet was more composed at breakfast; she was even forward enough to ask for sugar for her coffee. Without any premeditation, I added some sugar to my coffee, too, and for once I found the sweetness charming rather than cloying. “Sir,” she asked, “how did class go yesterday?” I did my best to conceal my frustration. I really didn’t want Pet dwelling on her old life, particularly something as pointless as a 100-level Poli Sci class. At the same time, her question expressed polite concern for the only other person in her new life. I dared not injure that. “Same ol’, same ol’, Pet,” I replied. “Do you want my help with the presentation, Sir?” It was, in fact, due in two weeks, and just that morning I had already gotten a text about it from Jeff. “You don’t have to worry about that stuff anymore, Pet,” I said as kindly as I could. She was clearly trying to find something in the future to focus on. “I have to go to work this afternoon, Pet,” I said, “but before that I’m going shopping. I’m gonna get you a new bed, chair, and table, all exactly your size.” She wasn’t expecting that, and it took her a few moments to say, “Thank you, Sir. Thank you.” It sounded sincere enough. High on my own generosity, I plunged ahead. “Howabout some books or magazines?” I offered. “Would you like some of those?” “My, my size?” she asked skeptically. “Of course, I can make anything your size.” “Uh, yes, yes Sir,” she said, gaining earnestness with each syllable. “Thank you, Sir.” “Any ones in particular?” “You choose for me, Sir.” I could hear the smile in her voice. It was an excellent note on which to end breakfast. My heart was light as I showered, dressed, and headed out. Work was as tedious as usual, but kept myself going by imagining Pet’s reactions to all the presents I had gotten for her. As a celebratory treat, I also picked up fresh ingredients for Chicken Parmigiano and a California red that I liked. I had left Pet with the same chunk of cheese for her lunch, and I hoped she hadn’t made herself too full for dinner. When I entered my kitchen, she was lying on Rosa’s too-small couch. You’re gonna love this, Pet, I thought. I set my satchel on the floor next to the kitchen table and sat down. I opened the satchel clasp and flipped the cover back, then turned to make sure Pet was watching. “Are you ready for your presents, Pet?” I fairly sang. Pet hadn’t moved from the couch, and I wondered if she had been more fatigued than I had realized. Even though the couch was beneath her scale, she really looked darling curled up on it. I think I’ll let her keep it. I brought my face right next to the plexiglass. “Yoo-hoo,” I called softly. I thought I would be disappointed when Pet opened her eyes and failed to be startled by my looming face, but instead I was relieved when she returned my smile. I’m glad to be home, too. The first item I presented Pet with was a new bed, queen-sized just right for my lilliputian Queen. No sooner had I placed it in the terrarium than she stretched herself out on it, just as I had envisioned in the department store. “Pull back the covers,” I said with anticipation. Pet promptly did so, running her hand across the fine sheet underneath. Also for the terrarium was a high-backed easy chair with arm rests for reading. For the kitchen table was a cushioned dining chair and table. Her plates, bowls, drinking glasses, and utensils had all come from a thrift store, all shrunken afterward. I had hesitated over the serrated steak knife, but in the end I had decided I would have to risk a little trust. The books and magazines required more inspiration. I resisted the urge to get her all the nerdy sci-fi I was overfamiliar with, but I did sample some well-regarded authors: Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, Ursula LeGuin. I really had no clue what kind of magazines to get, beyond those with hi-res photos. I picked up issues of National Geographic, Vanity Fair, and Food & Wine. Pet accepted the books and magazines in the spirit intended, and while she perused them I set about getting dinner ready. The trick was starting the pasta first because it was more easily interruptible than the chicken. I opened the wine early, and we both had a sip or two before we were finally ready to sit at table. I didn’t shrink any stemware for Pet because she would be washing all her own dishes and I didn’t want her to have to worry about breaking it. I’m gonna need more eye-droppers, I thought. The chicken and sauce turned out perfect, and I was pleased to see Pet eating heartily. I poured myself another glass of wine, but Pet declined a refill. “Sir,” she asked, “Is this to be my new life?” I nodded with my mouth full, chewed, and swallowed. Pet rested her hands in her lap with a forlorn expression. “I’m just your pet,” she said softly. “Just your sex toy.” Finally, I thought. “Yes,” I said patiently, “you are my Pet. Mine and mine alone.” “Why me?” The question hung in the air while I fished a sliver of chicken out from between my gum and cheek with my tongue, scrutinizing her. Because your bountiful hair snared me with its sprays and scents. Because your round ass and thick thighs lured me with their tautness and texture. Because your wide cheeks and smile enchanted me with their audacity and openness. Because your bouncy breasts and belly seduced me with their curves and capacity. And because your deep eyes intrigued me with their awareness and appetites. “Because I wanted to take you,” I said finally, “and I had the power to do so.” I saw Pet open her mouth for the next question, but the warning in my eyes made her think better of asking it. I refilled her wine glass with the eye-dropper. She took a sip and looked around at the giant kitchen that had become her home. “How long do you plan to keep me, Sir?” she asked plaintively. “As long as you are happy here,” I replied sincerely, “which I hope is a very long time indeed.” I returned to my meal but watched Pet out of the corner of my eye. She picked up both her utensils—including the sharp knife—but she only paused a moment before cutting her chicken again and taking another bite. When we had both finished our dinner, I cleared and rinsed my dishes and filled a small wash basin to soak Pet’s dishes until she could get to them later. I then retrieved the small couch from the terrarium and set it on the kitchen table underneath the magnifier lamp. It was time for Pet’s final present. She remained seated at her dining table as I got up and went to my jacket to collect a small tub of coffee creamer from the pocket. The seal was slightly open from when I had emptied it before I left work. I sat back at the table and set the creamer tub next to the couch. I pulled the seal back all the way, removing it, then beckoned Pet to approach. I was pleased to see from her gait that she retained some curiosity about my acquisitions. The top of the tub only came up to her knees, so she knelt and peered down into it. Her head snapped back up, her eyes searching my face for affirmation or explanation. I smiled and nodded, and she looked back down and reached into the tub. When Pet withdrew her arm, her fist was clutching a fellow who had woken up that morning at least six feet tall but was now less than an eighth of an inch tall. I had been concerned that I would injure or kill him when I used the tweezers to pick him up from the restroom floor, particularly as he had been trying to evade me. Next time I should put my finger over the end of a straw and use the force of vacuum when collecting micros. Gazing through the magnifier, I saw the expression of amazement and delight spread across Pet’s face as she brought her toy close. She chuckled as the microscopic man struggled in vain to escape her grasp. “You wanted to know what it was like,” I said gently, trying not to intrude too much. Pet raised her face to me with an appraising expression I had never seen before. It was almost as if we were seeing each other for the first time. “What’s his name?” she asked. “I didn’t ask,” I said. “Why don’t you give him a name?” She smirked and looked at her toy. “He looks like a Dick,” she said. “‘Dick’ it is,” I proclaimed. “Hi, Dick!” she chirped at her toy, grinning irrepressibly. Dick’s struggles became even more animated. “Be quiet,” she said testily. Pet looked back to me. “What should I do with him?” she asked with a leer. “Do whatever you like,” I replied, “so long as I get to watch.” Pet turned her full attention to Dick. She sat on the couch and set him down in front of her. She folded her hands in her lap as he got to his feet. “You have been irreversibly shrunk,” she said with the imperiousness of a vice principal. “You will live out the rest of your days as my toy.” Dick’s protests were inaudible to me, but Pet cut them off. “Remove all your clothing now,” she said bluntly, “or I’ll break your neck.” I knew she could feel my scrutiny, but she kept her impassive eyes on her plaything as he undressed. When he was completely nude, she plucked him by one wrist and dangled him in front of her face. Dick’s legs flailed furiously as Pet’s mouth opened. Her tongue darted out and lapped between his legs, then returned to her palate for the savoring. Her face split into a triumphant grin, and my heart warmed with pride. Pet opened her jaws even wider, and I could see her shudder with excitement as she slowly brought Dick over her waiting maw. I couldn’t hear his screams, but it was clear Pet was enjoying them. Then she let go and he dropped into her mouth. She caught him with her teeth about his chest and back, and one of his arms was still free to press and pound on her upper jaw. I thought she might have bitten down when she smiled at his predicament, but I couldn’t see any blood. Pet shut her eyes and puckered her lips around Dick’s neck, and I could see her tongue pulsing in her throat. She took several deep inhalations as she savored his struggles between her lips, then she dutifully raised her face to my gaze. I wish she could have seen his wide terrified eyes as she sucked him entirely inside. From that point I could only discern what was happening with Dick from Pet’s expression and posture. She kept her eyes closed and lay back on the couch, and when she put one hand to her chest I thought she might have swallowed him. Her breathing was very shallow and her face was quite still. Her throat muscles, however, were still twitching and I concluded that her tongue must still be having its way with him. Finally, Pet tipped her head back and I saw the bulge of Dick’s passage down her throat. There was nothing to do or say, just breathe and imagine the sensation of Dick filling Pet’s stomach and meeting his doom. When I took Dick I had had no firm idea of what would happen to him, but in retrospect it seemed inevitable. Pet had disposed of him rather quickly, but I had surprised her and she hadn’t had time to contemplate anything more elaborate. Look at you. What must you be feeling right now? Her eyes were still shut, and her lips were tightly pursed. Her hand was still at her chest, fingers splayed wide. I had to hold her. Pet opened her eyes but did not otherwise react when I gathered her up in both hands and brought her close. I closed one thumb over her belly. I couldn’t detect any movement, but she smiled satisfactorily as she placed both hands on top of my thumb. “Well,” I asked, “how was it?” “I get it now,” she replied after a moment. “This is the way of things.” There was nothing to do but kiss her, right on the front of her head from the bridge of her nose to her crown. “Who was he?” she asked after I had brought her back under my gaze. “Just some rando, minding his own business,” I replied. “So an innocent person, then.” “I don’t know about ‘innocent’.” I might have taken him because he was tall and he looked like he took it for granted, but that didn’t matter to Pet. “He didn’t do anything wrong to me, if that’s what you mean.” “You just took him because you could.” “And because it pleased me to give him to you.” Pet looked up at me for several moments with an inscrutable expression. I felt judged, and I welcomed her judgment. I craved it, in fact. She let out a deep breath, and a rueful smile crept across her face. “I can see why you do it,” she admitted. I channeled my relief into a broad smile. As much as her sympathy meant to me, however, her happiness meant more. I started caressing her over her clothes with my thumb on her belly, making wider and wider circles until it was fondling her boobs and pressing on her crotch. My tongue stirred insistently. I sought one last affirmation from her, but I was in no position to request it. In the end, I let my eyes speak for me: You are mine to play with, and I will never let you go. Pet lay back in my hands and raised her arms until they rested above her head against my fingers. She relaxed her legs and let my molesting thumb nudge them apart. Her breathing was deep and even, and her heartbeat felt strong. Her lips were skewed enigmatically, but I had no doubt what her eyes were saying in reply to mine: I am yours. HERE ENDS VOLUME TWO Many, many thanks to @Taedis for her assistance with this story.

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

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