Deepest, darkest fantasies?
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I have some pretty dark, sadistic fantasies inspired by real-life ““enhanced interrogation techniques””, and further. Some part of me would love to be the massive, faceless, nameless terror that visits one’s cell whenever he damn well pleases, rarely even giving his prisoner the honor of getting him off.
But that’s what writing is for!
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Sometimes I have things like threatening to shrink the SW best friend or having sex with the SW best friend with her in my condom. Or actually shrinking her friend and pitting them against each other. Idk I have dark and a lot of gentle ones as well but yeah naughty ones are fun.
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@i-am-insane I wanna be that tiny… >_<
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There’s a few especially nasty scenarios I tend to come back to, but maybe the darkest is of being gaslit into thinking I’m safe. Broken in as a slave, tortured so thoroughly that life beyond my master’s grasp is unimaginable. Starting to feel positively towards him… to embrace his touch, to crave his praise, and eventually, slowly, after days or weeks or months, becoming confident that I’m his favourite. To be the most obedient and passionate of his playthings. He would tell me as much. I’m a good girl.
Then one day he decides I’m boring, and kills me in one of any number of horrible ways. And as I’m sliding down his throat or feeling the pressure of my ribs being crushed in underfoot, I’m dismayed - inconsolable - because I don’t even know what I did to deserve it. I was a good girl. Master would never hurt me without reason. …but it isn’t a punishment. He’s not getting rid of me because I failed him - on the contrary, I was entirely perfect. He just thought it’d be fun to hear my final screams. And he’ll have a new favourite toy soon enough.
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I think something that has always turned me on is dismissing something.
So, shrunken women are shrunken women, right? Even if you call them pets or what not, while you dismiss their rights and autonomy and all that, there’s a part of you that’s admitting that they’re still human beings, just smaller, just a person you’ve taken things away from and holding captive.
But there’s a step beyond that. When they shrink, for whatever reason, a switch flips inside you, and your view on them changes. And then? They aren’t human, not anymore. Maybe they’ve never been.
It could be a friend, a lover, someone you helped on the street who is desperately grateful for this one moment of kindness in the shithole their life has become, but the instant they shrunk, that person might have well have died for all that they matter to you. And the thing is, this is usually paired with particularly gorn-y scenarios, but it doesn’t have to be, and honestly, it’s… limiting, in a way. Not just in the use of the woman, but in the cruelty of it.
Even if you’re kind, even if you treat them as… a treasured pet, if you break their will, their conception of who and what they are, until the only thing they can even dream of in life is just to get their Master’s loving affirmation, then you’ve destroyed them, as a person, and left them only a pampered shell.
And that’s the generous option; there’s no need to be kind.
Give the bare minimum needed to live. Make her earn her food, and make sure what she gives is as demeaning as where she lives and what she is (and isn’t) wearing.
Be distant, kind, unfeeling towards her, and always firm on how it’s her fault (even, or especially, if its not) until she accepts that she’s just… that. A toy, a tool, an object. Something to be used, that doesn’t just live like this, but deserves it. She deserves to live on my floor, she deserves to be fed my crumbs, she deserves to live, naked and afraid, but almost pathetically desperate to please me, just to make the shame of her very life go away.
And then, after you use her, and she lays there, soaked with her sweat, gasping for breath, quite possibly in pain, she looks up at you and thanks you for it. Not because she enjoyed it, even though she did enjoy it. But because you chose her to use and abuse, to give that level of attention to, even, and quite possibly especially, if it was cruel rather than kind, and she is thankful for that fact from the bottom of her heart.
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Sell her. To a stranger. For cheap.
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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.
