Sadie was having one of the craziest and most vivid dreams of her life. She could feel and see that she was shrunken down in size to a few inches tall and naked. A quick glance around showed that she was in a vast and stretched out parody of a studio apartment. Her view was illuminated by what seemed to be the intrusive and persistent reddish morning light that knew how to devilishly sneak around blinds and window shades. She gained the impression of a place that seemed devoid of any sort of character or organization or imagination, as if it had just been moved into. The sort of place that only a stereotypically single guy could look at and feel content with. She would have spent more time dwelling on the sad state of this place and wondering how the hell she even got here, but she had an important task in front of her. She had to keep on licking and rubbing and gently nibbling this cock that rose up before her, and returned to that task with a relentless enthusiasm that was unusual for her. There was no context or precursor for this scene as far as she could recall. It was like she’d shown up to a story halfway through its telling and had no choice but to go along with it. All she could do was keep on caressing and tasting and serving.

Sadie was never one to have any sort of fetish dreams. Such things would have been nice to have, but like most people her dreams were uncooperative and quickly forgotten upon waking up. She made a mental note to scold herself upon waking up for having the audacity to have a fetish dream that wasn’t even her own goddamn fucking fetish. The technology to shrink a person down was old school and tacky. Invented a generation before her time, it promised a world of innovation and excitement but for a variety of reasons it never found any sort of widespread adoption. Ideas that it could be used as a way of literally reducing the carbon footprint of vast segments of humanity by creating micro societies proved to be problematic and off-putting. Even for the very niche market that liked the idea of shrinking, it was a very clunky and heavily regulated enterprise that involved physically going down to one of the few storefront shops that still remained in business and filling out a million forms and waivers and paying an amount of money equivalent to several flights abroad. The penalties for misuse were severe and actively enforced enough to dissuade anyone from using it beyond the most diehard of shrinking enthusiasts and most desperate of garbage-tier influencers looking for easy content.

For something that she never entertained or gave much thought to, being small and in the service of a dick bigger than her wasn’t that bad. The scent and taste, as strong as it was, only seemed to intoxicate and excite her. The warmth it radiated into her body was equaled in intensity by the surprising coldness that nipped at her backside. As if warming up around a bonfire in the middle of a winter night, she rotated around and rubbed her back into the cock in an up and down motion. The sensation of that warm, strong, textured, hard, and huge cock against her back was sublime. For a moment she closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensation. Even with all visual context removed, she could still sense the tip of it looming above her, and beyond that a whole gigantic world that dwarfed her little tiny body. This feeling of all-encompassing smallness, despite being something in waking life that weirded her out and scared her, was in this moment comforting and nice. She opened up her eyes again and looked across the body belonging to the cock she kept on rubbing up against and playing with. Across a torso that rose and fell with soft breaths, she saw a sleeping face that belonged to a man she had no recognition or memory of. For a creation of her dreaming mind, it seemed strange that it didn’t even resemble a combination of people she vaguely knew.

She spun back around in an attempt to put these thoughts out of her mind and devote herself to the task at hand. Her short little legs sprang into action and she pounced upwards. With strength she scarcely took full advantage of in her basic boring office drone life, she wrapped her arms and legs around the shaft and brought her face up to the same level as the tip. It glistened and throbbed and seemed to issue an invitation to her face which was gladly accepted. More than just simply licking and serving it, she was letting it mark her as its own territory as she rubbed her face across it. Encouraged by limbs of hers that continually squeezed and fondled that pulsating and vibrating shaft, she could feel the imminent explosion about to occur along with the peculiar sensation that this was the end of the story and the end of the dream.

As the hot cum shot itself out of the tip of her temporary companion, she let herself fall down onto a soft bed of pubic hair and skin. For a time, as the eruption continued and subsided along with the height of the cock, she laid there looking upwards and panting heavily. A hundred thousand thoughts, no longer blocked from entry, surged through her mind. Chief among them, the blaring headline and stunningly obvious realization that this was in no way a dream and she had been awake this entire time.

Her world suddenly began to shift and rise. She wasn’t the only one awake.

Kingston grabbed his jeans at the waist band and lifted them up off of the floor. It didn’t take a great detective to surmise little Safaa was most likely hiding somewhere inside them. Even for someone as vertically challenged as her the gap under the room’s door would have been too narrow to slide underneath. There was no point in hiding, as the lightly furnished room offered very few clever hiding spaces. She only could have been going for the vial, and most likely would have ducked into a pocket as her last seconds of perceived freedom ticked down. He let his laughter fill the room as he looked down once again at the dangling headphone cord and imagined the struggle that she must have endured as he sang carefree mere seconds ago.

Even as the gravity of the situation and the actual force of gravity made themselves known, that laughter of his seemed to take precedence over it all for Safaa. The pocket fabric became tight and closed in on her, as if she was a little bug caught in a net. This was no source of refuge from the sound and feeling of Kingston’s audible joy. All the darkness and material enveloping her did little to muffle him. He was still at the forefront of her gigantic new world. Even through tense and shuddering breaths, she could still pick up just how much of his scent was imprinted onto this denim cocoon. It made her knees buckle almost as much as the lifting motion and the knowledge that she’d been spotted and was doomed.

Wanting to savor this moment just as much as he was wary of the tendency for cornered little animals to bite, he slowly dipped his fingers down into the first pocket where they immediately touched familiar plastic.

“Hah, wrong pocket!” was his declaration upon only finding the vial inside. “That must be fucking embarrassing!” he continued as he pulled it out. He gave it a friendly little shake, hoping she would be able to hear the little sloshing of liquid within, before tossing it down onto the bed. The vial bounced a few times and came to a stop next to the vibrator, which was still tirelessly doing its job and shaking a small portion of the bed.

She had no frame of reference as these noises continued to bombard her. In that confined darkness, his voice and that cruel reminder of how close she got to salvation, couldn’t even be properly placed. The temptation to yell out something along the lines of ‘no shit, Sherlock!’ was dampened by her not even knowing what would be a good direction to try and yell in. There was no real hope against an adversary who seemed to completely surround her on all sides equally. No ideal defence existed against someone who could apply infinite force from any angle they desired.

Kingston, for whom no game of cat and mouse was too unfair, changed up his pocket breaching tactic and reached down inside his jeans rather than through the pocket. As his fingers wrapped around the pocket and the passenger within, he heard a little yelp. The impact of his hand wrapping around her caused her to yell out in uncontrolled fear, depriving her of even the ability to honorably surrender.

“Gotcha!” he bragged as he consolidated his grip around his pocket and the captive within it. Comfort and subtlety were far from Kingston’s considerations as he held the pocket upside down and repositioned his other hand to an open palm just below the opening. He pinched the bottom of the pocket between his index finger and thumb to keep in place, while simultaneously relinquishing his grip on Safaa herself.

No warning on earth could have prepared her for the sensation of being flipped over and dropped like that. Her cries of “NO! NO! NO! NO! STOP!” went unheard as she slid and tumbled out of the pocket. Her legs and arms, already sore from her last brush with Kingston, painfully scraped against fabric that provided nothing to hold onto to stop her fall. Her upper back collided with the thin layer of flesh covering the head of his third metacarpal bone, and the rest of her body flopped down into his palm. She could only heave and cry as the experience had knocked all of the air and words out of her.

He let go of the jeans, felt them fall down at his feet, and took a moment to just stare down at her in silence. His face, lit from the lamp below, took on a more serious and grim shape as he let his grin disappear.

“I’m very disappointed. Very.” He said as he brought his other hand closer to her.

“I’m sorry! I’m f-fucking sorry! I’m fucking sorry!” she weakly cried out. She paused and made a conscious effort to stop, but the words just kept on pouring out of her. “I just wanted to leave! I want to be big again! I’m sorry! I won’t get you into trouble! Just let me go!”

He brought his index finger up to her face, pausing just short of contact, as if to silence her rant. His grin returned to his face as he tilted it forward, lessening the angle of the shadows across it. “What? No, I’m not mad you tried to escape. I was counting on that. I was hoping to find you struggling to get the vial open.”

Safaa wiped tears from her eyes and looked up at him in annoyance and disgust, letting a weak little “What?” stammer out of her mouth.

“I’m not mad at you. Some just shut down and accept it. Some just mentally break. But you kept your wits about you and challenged me yet again. That’s your nature. They don’t even punish felons anymore for naturally yearning for freedom and trying to escape from prison.”

There was an odd comfort in these words for Safaa, matched by the odd comfort of his finger gently stopping and weightlessly resting on her upper chest, just below her neck.

“The reason I say I’m disappointed was that you’re kind of shitty at being small. You didn’t have to do any of that jewel heist shit to rappel down the side of the bed.”

He applied a little bit of pressure down onto her through his finger, as if to stifle any protest from an increasingly frustrated looking Safaa.

“And I can see the look on your face. I know what you’re going to say up to me. ‘What the fuck, everything’s too fucking high.’ and I kinda get that.”

Safaa could only nod.

“There’s literally no danger though. I’m not a math or physics guy so don’t quote me on this but when you’re that small you have a terminal velocity of like 200 cunt hairs a second. Far from fatal. Allow me to demonstrate.”

Kingston slid his index finger from its position under Safaa’s neck down to the side of her waist. He matched this position on the other side of her waist with his thumb. No amount of kicking and screaming from her could stop him from carrying out his will as he lifted her up off of his palm. Not even the excruciating discomfort of those fingertips pressed into her sides could serve as a distraction from her fear of heights that came to the forefront. Her legs helplessly flailed as she used her arms to hold him for more stability. Unwilling to decide on which swear words to best articulate her feelings at the moment, only pained and frightened mumbles and screams emanated from her.

He paused as he held her aloft above the bed with his arm extended out. She was at the same elevation as his eyes. Their gazes briefly met. She managed to compose herself in this moment just enough to mouth ‘Fuck you’ at him. A few more seconds to tease and keep her squirming in his grip would have been ideal for him, but this gesture from her proved to be a compelling enough signal to release. His fingers snapped back and he pulled his hand away as fast as he could manage. With a prolonged squeak, she sailed down and collided feet-first with the mattress and fell backwards, without even as much as a bounce.

To her it felt more like falling in a dream than falling in real life. The soft surface absorbed most of the impact as she found herself once again looking up at Kingston, and realizing that throughout this entire conversation he remained naked. Tilting her head back, she could make out the upside-down outline of his freshly-cleaned cock.

“Sit up!” he ordered, as if he was annoyed by the sudden ogling of himself.

Not wanting to test his patience any more than necessary after being dropped like that, she tried to oblige. Her abdominal muscles burned with exhaustion and strain as she awkwardly shifted her weight forward and managed to sit. She immediately knew why he’d want her to sit up. Ahead of her, next to a vibrator that was sputtering and slowly losing its charge, was the vial. The vibrant colors of the liquid within tantalized her and for a brief second she had almost forgotten Kingston still loomed above her.

He leaned down a bit, and reduced his voice to more of a playful whisper. “It’s literally right there. Go and get it. You’re so close.”

Despite this obviously being one of Kingston’s fucked up and sadistic games, Safaa was now well aware of the potential costs of non-participation and with a whimper rolled over onto her knees and began to crawl forward.

“Let’s make a game out of this!” Kingston excitedly said as he brought his hand down on her. All she could do when confronted with the weight and power of him was collapse down and let her limbs sprawl out. There wasn’t even five seconds of potential hope and freedom allotted to her. His thumb started to pet and fondle her ass.

“All this is making me horny as fuck again. No way I’m getting to bed this fucking wired. Let’s have a fun little contest. First one of us to reach orgasm wins.”

A declaration of no and a firm head shake from Safaa went unanswered as Kingston continued to talk. “If you win and you come first, you get the antidote. It takes 30 minutes for it to take effect, which is more than enough time for me to disappear completely. You’ll never see me again.”

Safaa had no real reason to trust him, and even less reason to give him the satisfaction of watching her try to get herself off. She rolled her eyes.

“And if I win - I get to keep you forever. Any people who get shrunk, we just give them a good old memory wipe and they’re back to their shit boring lives within a few days. But not you. You’ll never be big again. This will be every single night for the rest of your existence. My little fuck toy. No one will even know about you. Anything that happened tonight is completely off the books and never happened. And I can still wipe some of your memories. Any and all semblance of identity and humanity and dignity will cease to exist. Forever.”

Kingston ended that sentence with a playful little spank to Safaa’s bottom with his thumb.

“Don’t even think of trying to fake an orgasm. And don’t even think of trying to ruin mine.” He said more slowly and loudly.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking down there. Just how the fuck are you going to expect me to possibly keep my word? I’m the lying piece of shit who shrank you and did all this to you, after all.”

Safaa tensed up in fear.

“This is how you know I’m really a man of my word.” He said as he grabbed the headphone cord.

Safaa intensified her efforts to squirm and crawl away, but to no use. Kingston took hold of the plug at the end and teasingly held it in front of her, blocking her view of the vial.

“You thought I was just bluffing with that.” He taunted.

“NO! FUCK OFF!” Safaa yelled.

Kingston relinquished some of the hold on her. He kept one finger in the small of her back to hold her down and in place as she kicked and punched the blanket beneath her.

“Are you FUCKING CRAZY? It’s too fucking big! You’ll f-fucking kill me with that!” Safaa continued, as her yell turned to a cry.

He just smiled and began to drag the rigid metallic tip of the plug across her body. He went up and down her back around his finger, and down to her kicking legs. He swirled it around her ass as she continued to beg and cry and thrash about.

Kingston worked hard to suppress his laughter as he gently tossed the plug to the side, out of Safaa’s view, and instead pulled out the much smaller ballpoint pin that he had been concealing under his ring finger since he left the bathroom. He brought the smooth and round end up to her ass and slowly began to push it in.

Part 6:

The relative silence after Kingston disappeared from view and shut the door was almost overwhelming, and not even the playful sound of that vibrator could overcome it. Without the dominating presence of him around, Safaa could finally take a moment to sit back and examine the room around her. Familiar objects were rendered alien and hyper-detailed. What normally would have been a soft comforter blanket was rough and uneven. Little imperfections dotted the stitchwork that appeared seamless to larger eyes. Even looking over at the vibrator revealed telltale injection molding marks that previously went unnoticed. The visual experience of being shrunken down was reminiscent of the first time she had been prescribed glasses and stepped outside. The world even then seemed to grow as countless details emerged and became apparent.

This memory of hours spent staring up at the tops of trees and into the sky was cut short by the sound of that shower being turned on. The added sound of footsteps on porcelain tub and the sliding of shower curtain rings was further aural confirmation of Kingston actually going through with his plan to take a shower. There was an instant anger that boiled up within her. She noted that after all this manhandling and dirtying up of her little body this motherfucker doesn’t even afford her the opportunity to clean herself off. His hygiene seemed to matter more than here despite the observation that he barely seemed to break a sweat from all the exertion of this misadventure. It added to the humiliation of it all to know that it wasn’t even his plan to bring her into the room with him. Safaa wasn’t even a captive who required supervision and attention at all times. She was just being treated like any other object he would have in his possession.

Even the missed opportunity to watch him shower grated at her. Despite all that he was putting her through, the opportunity to ogle at that gigantic, powerful, and athletic body of his was still something of a reward. He knew how to take care of himself and his voice and hands and cock seemed to know how to take care of her. As Safaa dwelled more on this, there was an undeniable and powerful temptation within her to completely submit. This temptation was fed even more by the sheer stupid confidence of her captor. There seemed to be no sense of urgency or desperation within him as he casually took a shower in the middle of committing a shitload of very serious crimes. His actions seemed to be a blend of cold and cruel calculation and lighthearted improvisation. All of it was geared to turn her into no more than a mere experiment.

Safaa looked down at herself and imagined what a life with this monster would look like. A life of her being kept small. A neverending decadent cycle of getting toyed around with. With absolute and total control, he would have no reason whatsoever to even tell her anything. His motives and actions would remain impossible to truly know and predict in advance. Any sense of privacy and dignity she held onto would keep on eroding as he explored her condensed little body with his eyes and touch. Already she could feel every other problem and aspect of her old life melting away as she devoted herself to servicing the needs and desires of this brute. All she had to do was be a good girl. Sit here and wait for whatever he has planned next. It was the path of least resistance. It would feel so good to just sit here and pleasure herself and keep on daydreaming about what could possibly come next in this chapter of her new life.

She reached down towards her breasts and slid her hand against that warm, sweaty, sticky skin. As good as that touch felt, there wasn’t anything sensual behind her movement. With determination, she used her hand to cup as much of the semen that remained on her chest as she could. After securing a handful of the stuff, she funneled it down onto her trapped wrist. It obviously wasn’t the most ideal lubrication in the world to use, but it was enough. 15 seconds of wiggling, pulling, and straining against that bondage was enough to free her.

That desire to fight back and challenge was just too unquenchable within her. She knew that it could all be a trick. Getting down on the floor would be next to impossible without injury. His pants on the floor could be positioned in such a way that would prevent her from even accessing that particular pocket. The vial she needed could just be fruit juice or the stuff they put in lava lamps. She also wondered if she would even be able to open it. She had no idea if the restorative properties of it were instant or prolonged. The only way to move forward was to have faith that all of these factors were going to tip in her favor. All the odds against her did little to dissuade the prophetic feeling within her that she would be full of constant regret the rest of her life over not making this one final attempt at escape.

Safaa still had to get off this fucking bed before she could imagine herself stunning Kingston in the face with that vibrator, kicking him in the balls, and screaming bloody murder loud enough to have the cops summoned. The horny thought of wondering how it would feel if he actually followed through on his threat to stick the plug at the end of the cord up her butt bubbled up. She turned her attention down to the cord and she almost kicked herself for not noticing its usefulness earlier on. With the other end of the cord securely tied to a vibrator much much heavier than her now, she could try and climb down onto the floor with a much reduced risk of injury.

Working with tiny muscles against uneven footing, it was harder than she anticipated to push that cord off of the edge of the bed. The feeling of relief as gravity took over and lowered it the rest of the way was short-lived. Safaa was still afraid of heights. All she could do was swallow that fear down with a grim acceptance that her life was pretty much over anyways and nothing really matters. She got down on top of the cord and wrapped her legs around it as tight as she could. She slid herself back and began the process of shimmering down the length of the cord.

At this same moment, Kingston decided to start singing as he continued to clean himself in the shower.

“The itsy-bitsy spider went up the waterspout!”

The sudden discord from the harmonious noises of the shower and vibrator’s buzzing almost caused Safaa to lose her grip and fall. She briefly turned her head towards the bathroom, to check and make sure he wasn’t somehow watching her at this very moment before continuing her descent.

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out!”

Some of the vibration from the still active toy managed to travel down the length of the cord and it almost tickled her. Her muscles burned and her thighs and hands threatened to chafe, fulfilling a pattern of it being cruel and rough to her little body. She persisted and kept on lowering herself.

“Out came the sun and dried up all the rain!”

Her inner thighs came into contact with the knot that previously served as her leash. As she carefully slid past it, she could still feel and smell some of his cum on it. In so many ways, he just couldn’t seem to leave her alone.

“And the itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.”

As the cold metal of the plug touched her, she knew that she had made a simple mistake. She was in such a hurry, she didn’t even notice that the entire length of the cord wasn’t enough to extend all the way down to the floor. A quick and tense glance down showed a short drop. In defiance of the last line of Kingston’s stupid fucking shower song, she had no plans to climb up anything again and let herself drop down onto the floor.

She landed on her feet and allowed the rest of her body to roll to the side. The carpet was way more firm than the bed, but still proved forgiving to land on as she avoided injury. She stood up and turned her attention to Kingston’s pile of clothes.

The sound of old plumbing seizing up reverberated through the room as Kingston shut off the shower. He began to sing again.

“Just running scared each place we go.”

His voice, no longer interrupted by flowing water, was much louder and full of clarity as it echoed out of the bathroom. Safaa, as if obeying his song, started to run towards his jeans.

“So afraid that he might show.”

She unhesitantly dove into the first pocket that she could find.

“Yeah, running scared, what would I do.”

Her arms flailed as she tried to rummage through the opening. It was dark and heavy with his scent, and seemed to be entirely empty. Even through fabric and this struggle, she could still hear him and feel his footsteps as he stepped out of the shower.

“If he came back and wanted you?”

She yelled and slammed her fists in a fit of disappointment and outrage and fear as she slipped back out of his pocket.

“Just running scared, feeling low.”

She began to desperately crawl further up onto his jeans like a scared little animal.

“Running scared, you love him so.”

She stood up and looked around herself to survey the situation. Other than where she climbed out of, she could see no more pockets. She could hear him moving again. Footsteps coming towards the bathroom door from the other side.

“Just running scared, afraid to lose.”

She looked back at the bed and cursed her situation. The door to the room was miles away. This was a hotel room and thus there was nowhere to hide underneath the bed. Even if she could make it all the way back to the cord in time and even have time to climb back up, it was just too high for her. She was so small. She would look so pathetic trying to leap up and grab the end of that cord.

“If he came back, which one would you choose?”

Being just a small and pathetic little animal in this moment, Safaa cowered and crawled back into the empty pocket. The bathroom door opened up and Kingston walked out with his towel draped over his shoulder. He was dripping with water and still in the nude. He carried on singing, almost with a shout.

“Then all at once, he was standing there.”

Safaa prayed that he didn’t see her and tried to make herself still. From within that dark pocket he could hear his voice and footsteps and very aura get closer.

“So sure of himself, his head in the air.”

He didn’t even stop singing as he turned his attention to the bed and saw evidence at the escape attempt. He smiled at the ingenuity and drive of that bratty little shit.

“My heart was breaking, which one would it be?”

He carefully walked forward and leaned down to pick up his jeans.

“You turned around and walked away with me!.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Evaline spoke into the peephole as it slid open.

All of the height, musculature, and aura of intimidation possessed by the doorman, even apparent through the tiny glimpse offered by the peephole, amounted to absolutely nothing as he said nothing and instantly yielded to this odd password and began to unlock the door.

She stood there impatiently and was nearly shaking with excitement. This was a moment that she had been looking forward to for a long time. It wasn’t every day that the most elusive and infamous thievery organization on the planet was potentially recruiting a new member.

No one outside of this group had any idea of its leadership, number of members, or location. Even the very name of it remained a mystery. It was a number of years before the authorities in different countries and continents were even aware that their own unsolvable robberies and cases of missing landmarks were in fact the work of a single organization. As time went on, the scale, sophistication, and ambition of each theft grew. Nowhere seemed to be safe or off-limits from being infiltrated. No matter how closely guarded, absolutely nothing seemed to be theft-proof anymore. The torch from the Statue of Liberty had vanished overnight. The Mona Lisa disappeared and was replaced with a replica the size of a postage stamp. Evaline, like many others, was absolutely enthralled with the boldness, insanity and ingenuity behind each action the group made.

An ordinary law-abiding life offered no vision of a future that Evaline wanted anything to do with. As a young child she stole a piece of apple pie from her older brother and was able to blame it on the dog. She was instantly hooked on that feeling of avoiding negative consequences for taking nice things and constantly chased it afterwards.

A comfortable life working for herself and only taking what she needed was well within her capabilities, but the allure of greater riches and learning opportunities with this mysterious group took precedence. She pestered every contact she had made, scoured multiple locations suspected to have been robbed by them for clues, and traded in every favor she could in order to position herself closer to the group and differentiate herself as someone whose tenacity and natural talent stood above the rest.

The exhilarating roller-coaster ride began months ago with an unmarked envelope that had been pushed under the front door of one of her many apartments and hangout spots… It contained only the coordinates of a small bank and the number of a safety deposit box within the vault. Upon opening it, she found another envelope inside it with more coordinates and instructions. All these tests, clues, and ordeals had been rigorous and thorough. The challenge seemed to be without end, deliberately designed to discourage and break all but the most enthusiastic and skilled of new recruits. The idea that it was all an elaborate honeypot concocted by law enforcement was present at the beginning, but gradually diminished as the difficulty and scope of each trial grew.

The most recent heist she had pulled off was the theft of an ancient Roman vase from an antiquities museum in Algiers, which tested her talent to its maximum and had resulted in her closest ever brush with possible detention by the authorities. She laughed and caught her breath while leaning up against a hotel room wall and opened up an envelope which had been taped to the inside of the lip of the vase. It read “After a long, thorough, and fun amount of testing and vetting it’s finally time for us to take the next step and get to know what you’re about in person. Your appointment is scheduled for 10pm this Saturday. Be a good sport and very carefully instruct the door man to go fuck himself in order to be permitted entry.” followed by a New York City address.

Walking up to that dilapidated old building on that rainy night in an area of the city that hadn’t yet gotten the memo on gentrification should have been intimidating for anyone, but Evaline was undeterred. She had all the confidence in the world that this meeting would be a success and the group wouldn’t be able to resist taking her on as its latest member. She had one specific and overwhelming advantage over anybody else in the field of thievery and subversion.

It took the form of a special little secret ability that enabled her to take anything she wanted whenever she wanted. It wasn’t a well-worded argument or foolproof alibi that had allowed her as a child to successfully place blame for the theft of apple pie on the dog. In spite of her hands covered in evidence of pie theft, she simply just had to say ‘the dog ate it’ in order for everyone to accept her explanation. There was just an intangible aspect that bordered on magic to the delivery, pitch, speed and tone of her voice that infused her words with truth and authority. Initially this ability was taken for granted until everyone around her demonstrated a complete inability to lie convincingly and consistently when tested. She remembered being confused over why Johnny from her geography class didn’t just use his special voice to deflect blame over the spitball he hit the teacher with to avoid detention. Before long she realized that she was perhaps the only one gifted with such an ability and she took great care to both protect it and refine it.

It was on her family that she most often tested the limits and bounds of her persuasion. The versatility of her voice was demonstrated when she was able to once use it on her Puerto Rican grandfather in Spanish, a language that she only spoke at a novice level, with all the same effectiveness as the same words in English. As far as everyone in her former life knew, she was a straight-A student all throughout school and now enjoyed a comfortable and cushy career in some nonspecific and recession-proof creative field that involved lots of international travel and excuses to dress up. There was a basic understanding within her that by cheating on things like her own education, she would be cheating herself out of skills and knowledge that could be helpful, so she had at least made a token effort at showing up to class and trying to learn. Confidence in herself and her capabilities seemed to have a positive effect on the potency of her voice, so she spent her downtime between jobs trying to be as bookish and informed as possible.

Her style of thievery didn’t involve catsuits, jumping over a grid of lasers, safecracking, or other dated spy movie tropes. A typical heist had her dressed in unremarkable but appropriate business casual attire and equipped with a hard hat and a clipboard. Then it was just a matter of finding someone who appeared to be in charge, putting on her voice, and saying something along the lines of ‘Hello. I’m from the cleaning and preservation company. I’m going to need you to help me load up exhibit 34A. My van is parked out back.’ followed by the requisite ‘You’re not going to remember who I am or where this exhibit went. You’re going to erase all the video camera footage taken of me you can find and you’re going to go home. Let these last few hours fade out of memory. Nothing important at all happened today.’ after the item had been loaded up in her vehicle. It was rare that she even had to lift a finger or break a sweat.

The Algerian job had been complicated by the language barrier and a rather decentralized and proud museum staff, each believing they alone were in charge and eager to put a quick end to anyone who would dare loot any of the artifacts on display. Her translator, a young man picked at random from the street who responded positively to her saying “Anyone who fluently speaks both English and Arabic will follow me.” struggled to keep up and provide her with lines for her to phonetically repeat and pour her influence into. Amidst the commotion, the police had been summoned before she could calm and placate everyone into following her instructions. Handcuffs were nearly on her before everyone within earshot was told to go home and mind their own business. As thrilling as that whole episode was, there was a definite feeling of relief that she wouldn’t have to pull anything like that off again alone and unsupported. Her voice could get her unprecedented access to many closed doors, but the audacity and capabilities of the organization she yearned to join proved that there were whole games in motion and worlds that remained undiscovered beyond her own. All of which she knew would now be hers for the taking.

Unlike the typical door man who would open up the door and stand by to frisk any guests, this one just simply walked out past Evaline and disappeared into the night as the door swung open. She poured an irresistible amount of her special voice into those instructions for him to go fuck himself. She closed the door behind herself as she stepped inside. A smile made its way to her face as she imagined just how that order would be carried out and whether he’d be going home to simply jerk himself off, or if a trip to a 24-hour adult toy shop was now taking place.

Before she could speculate much too deeply on the erotic effects of her voice, she was interrupted by another.

“Hello, Evaline. We’re just about ready for you. Please step inside.”

There was almost a disappointment within her when she heard him speak. It wasn’t some posh and refined dollop of received pronunciation. He didn’t even sound like a bond villain. For the apparent representative of a shadowy international thievery cartel, a typical generic North American accent seemed quaint. There was a strength and a ruggedness to it that almost seemed misplaced in a world of caution, subtlety, and sly deception.

She shrugged and walked on ahead into the darkened hallway before her. The only voice that really mattered was her own. In just moments, she’d be able to use it on them. They’d have to do anything she wanted. All the secrets over how they operated and pulled off such logic-defying stunts would be hers to pull over and wield. As the sound of her heels hitting the floor filled up the empty hallway, her mind raced as she imagined all of the surprises her future with the group would hold.

It was then that the hallway was filled with an obscenely bright flash. Evaline was immediately stunned and disoriented. She stumbled forward and painfully hit the floor with the side of her face as her forearms slipped and struggled to break her fall. Even parts of her body unhurt by her tumble ached. The coldness of the floor, somehow amplified, hit her just as hard as the fall did and helped ease some of her brain fog.

She opened up her eyes as the lights in the hallway slowly turned on. As she pushed herself off of the cold floor and stood up, she realized that she was completely naked and instinctively put her hands on herself to cover up her chest and crotch. Her nudity became all the more alarming when she looked out ahead and saw him standing in front of her. He wore a clean and tailored black suit which helped him look more the part of someone involved in the most bougie criminal organization possible. He held a red gun-shaped object in his right hand that emitted a small amount of smoke as if it had just been used. She craned her head upwards to see his face, but noticed it was covered up by a mask.

She wished that the mask, his voice, the apparent weapon he wielded, or his stealth in sneaking up to her like that was the most disconcerting thing about him. Instead it was the fact that he looked to be about 100 feet tall. A quick and panicked glance around her revealed that it was the same hallway as before, only with every dimension multiplied. Her clothes, absolutely gigantic to her, were piled up behind her. It was obvious to her now that she shared the same physically impossible and strange fate as the Mona Lisa and had been shrunken down. Evaline couldn’t have been any taller than 4 inches now.

“Let’s begin!” he exclaimed.

She spun back around and watched as he bent down and reached towards her with his empty hand. All she could do at that moment was scream out. Her voice was all she had left.

@olo said in First Among Tinies:

@nyx It’ll be fun to see that pecking order get established.

if only the power of submission could change that font color to allow for more contrast against the background image

This is a story I started working on a while ago, before 2020 started cranking up its infinite fuckotron machine and killed my work ethic and love of writing prose. It’s a cruel and simple little erotic M/f tale of non-consent and unwilling shrinking, peppered with BDSM-inspired concepts and ideas.

You can go ahead and read the first 4 chapters here

These characters and their misadventures have been eating away at me for far too long now and I just had to go back and finish what was started. Starting tomorrow evening, I’m going to be posting new chapters weekly, both on ao3 and right here in this topic.

Part 5:

“No.”

Safaa couldn’t seem to be bothered to form a reaction to Kingston’s sudden declaration. Equal parts relief, disappointment, and shock all seemed to wash over her and paralyze her. That finger which had been teasing her slowly and deliberately pulled itself away from in between her legs. That spark of friskiness began to reignite as she sat up and followed that finger with her eyes. As that finger slipped itself underneath the waistband of those briefs. She used her hands to steady herself, anticipating that he would begin to speak again.

“Make me come.” was all Kingston said. He had been running his mouth all night so far. She fought against all of his ramblings through arguments, denial, and hope. And now she was only confronted with just three simple words.Those words both literally and figuratively left Safaa shaken. It was just a singular order. One thing to focus on. A temporary purpose for her hyperactive mind and trembling body to latch onto. She’d willingly offered herself up to be fucked, and that wasn’t good enough. This monster clearly didn’t see her as a partner to enjoy a fun experience with. She was less than that. Shrunken down in more than just physicality. A toy. Existing in that moment to serve him at his pleasure, until he said otherwise.

She even appeared stunned herself as a thirsty little “Yes!” escaped from her mouth.

Kingston wasn’t even waiting for any particular signal. Safaa was barely through saying that word as he slipped off those tight briefs and let them fall to the floor. His cock, no longer confined by fabric, sprang upwards and instantly became taller than her. Even in that soft 40-watt cheap hotel lamplit glow, it glistened and almost shined. Sight wasn’t Safaa’s only sense that was bombarded, as a wave of scent and heat washed over her. With all this action and movement from him, she figured there was no point in trying to keep standing. Guided by nothing more than instinct, Safaa crawled up to it. She stood up on her knees and looked up at it. From here it seemed to loom higher than ever making her task seem more impossible than ever. The question of how someone as small as her could possibly get this giant off was about to be answered as she reached out to touch that wide and veiny shaft.

“Whatever pleasure you feel is incidental. It’s irrelevant. Nothing matters less.” Kingston declared as her hands came into contact with him. As mean and dismissive as those words seemed, Safaa didn’t mind at that moment. They were just words. She had something real in her hands. Something honest and true at her fingertips. Far bigger than her but yet responsive to her touch. The energy it gave off with each surge and throb and pulse radiated into her. After a night of cruelty and fear, the sensation of that hardening cock against her skin was positively warm and inviting. Kingston could lie and gaslight all he wanted - but this part of him was honest. There wasn’t going to be a sudden and swift betrayal from it. Its pure and yet restrained and predictable strength inspired more loyalty than any words ever could. An exploratory touch turned into a sensual rub as she stood up from her knees and got onto her feet. As if climbing up a tree, she shimmied herself up and wrapped her legs around him for stability, bringing herself up to the tip. There were no more words for her to say. Her tongue had better things to do as she leaned forward and began to lick.

Kingston had no more words either. He felt well within his rights to be a sore winner. Those words of his could have kept on hammering home just how hopeless this situation was for Safaa. There was nothing stopping him from taunting her with how complete and total her submission was in this moment. Perhaps motivated by curiosity over whether the sound of that little tongue tickling the tip of his dick would carry all the way over to his ears, he opted to remain silent.

Not only could he hear her, he could feel every lick, nibble, and rub. The free-form improvisation of her arms, body, and mouth wrapped his member up in a loving embrace. There was no plan in Kingston’s mind to prove that he was Mr. Marathon Man. Horny and on edge since he began this little roleplay, his sensitive and needy cock was already feeling the early shudderings of orgasm. The first taste of precum on her tongue was a signal to Safaa that there was hope for an end to this ordeal. Each lick and rub was intensified and drawn out by her. Unintentionally, her rhythm followed the pace set forth by that breathing that dominated the soundscape around her.

It was in those last few moments that Safaa couldn’t help but wonder if this was all a gigantic mistake. That by being so efficient at getting this fucker off, she was dooming herself to more and more of this. Maybe being too good at this job would ensure nothing but repeat business when he would have otherwise gotten rid of her. She pondered if there was a way for her to completely ruin this impending climax of his. Options of a well-timed bite or another attempt at escape all presented themselves as possibilities. This all quickly proved to be academic as his fingers, almost as if they had anticipated such things, painfully grasped her at her thighs and lifted her up and slightly away, placing her straight into the path of what his cock was about to produce.

There was no escaping the firm and unrelenting grip of his. She focused her efforts on kicking and pushing away at the cock before her, but this too was a doomed effort. Those strikes only amounted to sensual little taps that served to strengthen the orgasm about to hit her. All she accomplished was to make that aim all the more erratic as the earthquake within him reached a peak and the eruption began. The waves of hot and thick spunk struck her primarily in the chest, with some droplets striking her in her unprepared face and others dripping down her legs. As his cock deflated and began to obey gravity, he carelessly dropped her off to the side with all the abruptness of someone letting a piece of trash fall away from them.

She fell down onto the blanket beside him. There was no time to process the last 30 seconds in any meaningful way. She was too busy sputtering and catching her breath to adequately appreciate how she had just been marked as this giant’s property. There wasn’t even a chance for her to use her hands to begin squeegeeing the jizz off of her face, as her world was overturned yet again as Kingston sprang up and shuffled off the bed to stand himself up. Like a little tiny piece of debris caught in wake, she rolled around as all this movement from him sent shockwaves through the cheap mattress.

Needing to admire this custom paint job of his, he turned around and looked down at her as she re-oriented herself and began the process of spreading his DNA across the surface beneath her. There was no way for her to really get clean and be free from the humiliation and scent, but she could at least not give him the satisfaction of looking like a total cumslut. With a satisfied whimsy in his voice, he declared “Since I’m dressed for it, I’m going to take a shower.”

For a moment, she wondered if she would be included in those festivities. A lifetime of showers wouldn’t be enough to undo anything that had happened, but at least it would be a start.

“You’re going to be a good little bitch and stay right there until I get back.” He continued as he picked up his jeans off of the floor. As he rummaged through the pockets his voice lowered to a more serious tone and he stated “Before we can learn to trust each other more, I’m gonna need to restrain you.”

Safaa tensed up as she heard those words. Restrain was such an interesting word, with many painful and extreme possibilities. These fears in her mind would be confirmed as he pulled his hand out of one of the pockets accompanied by what appeared to be one of those vintage wired earbud headphones. “What? No! You don’t have to do this!” she yelped out.

“Oh, don’t go telling me you’ve never been leashed before” Kingston quipped back. He leaned over her to pick up the vibrator he had previously tossed onto the bed behind her. He tied and wrapped the earbuds around the toy’s shaft before turning his attention back down to her.

“Be a good sport and choose a limb for me.” He ordered. She felt tempted to flip him off with her shaky left hand but kept it balled into a fist as she surrendered it to him and thrust out with it. She flinched and recoiled as he reached for her, but still held her arm out. There was no tender treatment or care as he tied the other end of the cord around her wrist. While it was constricting and tight, a single knot was all the security she apparently was worthy of to him.

With a giddy smile on his face, he then picked up the vibrator and turned it on to its medium setting before dropping it again beside her. The tremor it gave off was almost overwhelming to her senses as she instantly tried to crawl away from it. It shook her from beneath, and traveled along the cord and reverberated into her leashed arm. There was an uncountable number of things she wanted to say and could have said, but only a slight moan and whimper escaped her mouth. Not even an hour ago, this vibrator had been her personal and secret little toy. Now it was her prison warden. A cruel and loud and constant reminder of those words earlier about the irrelevance of her own experience and status. All this action and drama, and she hadn’t even come yet.

Before he turned around and walked to the bathroom, he pointed to the plug at the end of the cord attached to her and reminded her “And if you’re not here when I come back, I’m going to stick this up your ass.”

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

Owen was no stranger to wet dreams. The ones he was used to were always so busy, noisy, and overly complicated. One of his most notable ones was a dream where he was the ringleader on a bank heist, and in order for the heist to work he had to disable the security system on the roof. Only, the security system on the roof was one of his old bosses who he had a crush on, and the only way to disable her was to deposit a load of ejaculate across her tits. This task was made all the more complicated by the fact that she was reading out the weather report with her mouth. He was just barely able to finish that time, waking up on that particular morning with a mess in his pants and the radio next to his bed blaring.

This wet dream was completely different from that.

For starters, this one wasn’t some sort of biophysical reaction to him abstaining from sex and masturbation for long periods of time, like the others. Being in the service industry, Thursdays were basically his Mondays. He’d be too tired and burnt out and busy over the weekend for much fun and relaxation, so took advantage of those last few hours alone during the previous night to for a slow, sensual and, rigorous session that had him opening up nearly a dozen tabs on his browser and later feeling that extraordinary level of shame and disgust that appears when closing that many tabs and throwing out that much tissue paper.

There was no complex plot or cameo appearances from random figures in his life or low-level celebrities. There was no sense of urgency to finish up as soon as possible for the sake of some convoluted goal. The dream was as simple as can be. It was just him, alone in his apartment, lying back and being serviced by a little bitch at his cock. He wasn’t bothered by the pile of unanswered questions. There was no indication of when this dream started. There was no logic to why this little tiny anonymous figure was suddenly devoted to servicing him like this.

Sure, fantasies of tiny women and all the things that could be done with them were not uncommon and something that Owen occasionally humored, but there wasn’t any reason why she couldn’t have just been full-sized and doing all the same things. He’d occasionally delved into what little porn existed of different-sized relationships, but it was more of a curiosity than a priority. There was no sense of immersion to it as the tinies were always handled as if they were made of glass, under the constant threat of litigation and punishment for mistreating shrunken actors and actresses. It was always an unreachable and unaffordable fantasy for many, especially for him. He had pride in the little place on earth he had managed to cultivate through his hard work, this sparse studio apartment, but knew and accepted that it would be many years of grinding or luck beyond measure that would enable him to have nice things.

It was all the more reason for him to just slow down and try to savor this as much as possible. He stopped trying to analyze the situation and just closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate as much on the sensations as possible. Each footstep, grab, squeeze, lick, and nibble was magnified. He inadvertently explored the curves of that compressed little body as they were pushed into and rubbed up and down his hard and sensitive shaft. There was a magical unpredictability in those movements of hers as she alternated between using those hands, legs, and mouth to tickle, tease, and bring upon his impending orgasm. As much as he wanted this moment to last forever, there was no slowing down or stopping the inevitable. Despite only being a few inches tall, the pure enthusiasm with which she threw herself into this task was beyond his powers of resistance.

A peace came over Owen as he felt her wiggling and climbing her way up to the tip of his cock. The feelings that come with dreams were always transitory for him. No matter how deep or meaningful or exciting they were, all memory and meaning would eventually slip away. As he could feel that tongue of hers happily lapping up his precum and those hands secure their grip on him, that dread of it all fading away was absent. He knew he would always own this moment. No one could take it away from him. In the moment before he could feel himself erupt in an orgasmic finish, there was even the undeniable and strong feeling that he would always own her.

He didn’t need to be told that the dream was over as he finally came. A full-body orgasm, something he’d only achieved a few times before with a partner and never by himself, overtook him as he remained still and basked in the feeling. After a few seconds of feeling his cock empty and deflate, he turned his head over to the side and gazed at the time on his alarm clock. In a feat of amazing timing, it was 8:59, one minute before he was set to wake up.
He reached over his alarm clock and grabbed his phone, which he had purposefully left just on the other side of the alarm clock just before he went to bed. He had things set up to where the alarm clock would start up and turn on the morning radio, while his phone would play the standard alarm sound. The combination of both noises was tough to ignore and override in a deep sleep. As he turned on his phone screen to deactivate the alarm within it, the amount of notifications took him by surprise.

There were 15 missed calls, and an uncountable number of messages that had popped up. Among them, he could see one from his current boss that read “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” and another that said “WE NEED TO TALK. DON’T IGNORE ME!”

9:00 struck, and the radio came to life.

“Today’s going to be a big Friday! We’re going to be giving $500 to one of our lucky listeners within the next hour. But first, here’s the 9 o’clock news and weather…” The radio DJ trailed on.

“What the fuck?” Owen exclaimed out loud.

It would have been appropriate for this reaction to have been elicited by having apparently slept entirely through all of Thursday, but his attention was drawn elsewhere in that moment as he dropped his phone and looked down across his body at Sadie. She wasn’t the only one who just realized that the events that had transpired so far this morning weren’t merely a dream.

even when computer rendered by another person for a size fetish image, gal gadot still somehow can’t act

always just ‘tomorrow’ when asked if there is a day when they can have freedom or regrowth or mercy

‘fuck, i know my keys are in here somewhere’

me when i bring home a case of canned cat food from the grocery store

average HR department staff members

“Go fuck yourself.” Evaline spoke into the peephole as it slid open.

All of the height, musculature, and aura of intimidation possessed by the doorman, even apparent through the tiny glimpse offered by the peephole, amounted to absolutely nothing as he said nothing and instantly yielded to this odd password and began to unlock the door.

She stood there impatiently and was nearly shaking with excitement. This was a moment that she had been looking forward to for a long time. It wasn’t every day that the most elusive and infamous thievery organization on the planet was potentially recruiting a new member.

No one outside of this group had any idea of its leadership, number of members, or location. Even the very name of it remained a mystery. It was a number of years before the authorities in different countries and continents were even aware that their own unsolvable robberies and cases of missing landmarks were in fact the work of a single organization. As time went on, the scale, sophistication, and ambition of each theft grew. Nowhere seemed to be safe or off-limits from being infiltrated. No matter how closely guarded, absolutely nothing seemed to be theft-proof anymore. The torch from the Statue of Liberty had vanished overnight. The Mona Lisa disappeared and was replaced with a replica the size of a postage stamp. Evaline, like many others, was absolutely enthralled with the boldness, insanity and ingenuity behind each action the group made.

An ordinary law-abiding life offered no vision of a future that Evaline wanted anything to do with. As a young child she stole a piece of apple pie from her older brother and was able to blame it on the dog. She was instantly hooked on that feeling of avoiding negative consequences for taking nice things and constantly chased it afterwards.

A comfortable life working for herself and only taking what she needed was well within her capabilities, but the allure of greater riches and learning opportunities with this mysterious group took precedence. She pestered every contact she had made, scoured multiple locations suspected to have been robbed by them for clues, and traded in every favor she could in order to position herself closer to the group and differentiate herself as someone whose tenacity and natural talent stood above the rest.

The exhilarating roller-coaster ride began months ago with an unmarked envelope that had been pushed under the front door of one of her many apartments and hangout spots… It contained only the coordinates of a small bank and the number of a safety deposit box within the vault. Upon opening it, she found another envelope inside it with more coordinates and instructions. All these tests, clues, and ordeals had been rigorous and thorough. The challenge seemed to be without end, deliberately designed to discourage and break all but the most enthusiastic and skilled of new recruits. The idea that it was all an elaborate honeypot concocted by law enforcement was present at the beginning, but gradually diminished as the difficulty and scope of each trial grew.

The most recent heist she had pulled off was the theft of an ancient Roman vase from an antiquities museum in Algiers, which tested her talent to its maximum and had resulted in her closest ever brush with possible detention by the authorities. She laughed and caught her breath while leaning up against a hotel room wall and opened up an envelope which had been taped to the inside of the lip of the vase. It read “After a long, thorough, and fun amount of testing and vetting it’s finally time for us to take the next step and get to know what you’re about in person. Your appointment is scheduled for 10pm this Saturday. Be a good sport and very carefully instruct the door man to go fuck himself in order to be permitted entry.” followed by a New York City address.

Walking up to that dilapidated old building on that rainy night in an area of the city that hadn’t yet gotten the memo on gentrification should have been intimidating for anyone, but Evaline was undeterred. She had all the confidence in the world that this meeting would be a success and the group wouldn’t be able to resist taking her on as its latest member. She had one specific and overwhelming advantage over anybody else in the field of thievery and subversion.

It took the form of a special little secret ability that enabled her to take anything she wanted whenever she wanted. It wasn’t a well-worded argument or foolproof alibi that had allowed her as a child to successfully place blame for the theft of apple pie on the dog. In spite of her hands covered in evidence of pie theft, she simply just had to say ‘the dog ate it’ in order for everyone to accept her explanation. There was just an intangible aspect that bordered on magic to the delivery, pitch, speed and tone of her voice that infused her words with truth and authority. Initially this ability was taken for granted until everyone around her demonstrated a complete inability to lie convincingly and consistently when tested. She remembered being confused over why Johnny from her geography class didn’t just use his special voice to deflect blame over the spitball he hit the teacher with to avoid detention. Before long she realized that she was perhaps the only one gifted with such an ability and she took great care to both protect it and refine it.

It was on her family that she most often tested the limits and bounds of her persuasion. The versatility of her voice was demonstrated when she was able to once use it on her Puerto Rican grandfather in Spanish, a language that she only spoke at a novice level, with all the same effectiveness as the same words in English. As far as everyone in her former life knew, she was a straight-A student all throughout school and now enjoyed a comfortable and cushy career in some nonspecific and recession-proof creative field that involved lots of international travel and excuses to dress up. There was a basic understanding within her that by cheating on things like her own education, she would be cheating herself out of skills and knowledge that could be helpful, so she had at least made a token effort at showing up to class and trying to learn. Confidence in herself and her capabilities seemed to have a positive effect on the potency of her voice, so she spent her downtime between jobs trying to be as bookish and informed as possible.

Her style of thievery didn’t involve catsuits, jumping over a grid of lasers, safecracking, or other dated spy movie tropes. A typical heist had her dressed in unremarkable but appropriate business casual attire and equipped with a hard hat and a clipboard. Then it was just a matter of finding someone who appeared to be in charge, putting on her voice, and saying something along the lines of ‘Hello. I’m from the cleaning and preservation company. I’m going to need you to help me load up exhibit 34A. My van is parked out back.’ followed by the requisite ‘You’re not going to remember who I am or where this exhibit went. You’re going to erase all the video camera footage taken of me you can find and you’re going to go home. Let these last few hours fade out of memory. Nothing important at all happened today.’ after the item had been loaded up in her vehicle. It was rare that she even had to lift a finger or break a sweat.

The Algerian job had been complicated by the language barrier and a rather decentralized and proud museum staff, each believing they alone were in charge and eager to put a quick end to anyone who would dare loot any of the artifacts on display. Her translator, a young man picked at random from the street who responded positively to her saying “Anyone who fluently speaks both English and Arabic will follow me.” struggled to keep up and provide her with lines for her to phonetically repeat and pour her influence into. Amidst the commotion, the police had been summoned before she could calm and placate everyone into following her instructions. Handcuffs were nearly on her before everyone within earshot was told to go home and mind their own business. As thrilling as that whole episode was, there was a definite feeling of relief that she wouldn’t have to pull anything like that off again alone and unsupported. Her voice could get her unprecedented access to many closed doors, but the audacity and capabilities of the organization she yearned to join proved that there were whole games in motion and worlds that remained undiscovered beyond her own. All of which she knew would now be hers for the taking.

Unlike the typical door man who would open up the door and stand by to frisk any guests, this one just simply walked out past Evaline and disappeared into the night as the door swung open. She poured an irresistible amount of her special voice into those instructions for him to go fuck himself. She closed the door behind herself as she stepped inside. A smile made its way to her face as she imagined just how that order would be carried out and whether he’d be going home to simply jerk himself off, or if a trip to a 24-hour adult toy shop was now taking place.

Before she could speculate much too deeply on the erotic effects of her voice, she was interrupted by another.

“Hello, Evaline. We’re just about ready for you. Please step inside.”

There was almost a disappointment within her when she heard him speak. It wasn’t some posh and refined dollop of received pronunciation. He didn’t even sound like a bond villain. For the apparent representative of a shadowy international thievery cartel, a typical generic North American accent seemed quaint. There was a strength and a ruggedness to it that almost seemed misplaced in a world of caution, subtlety, and sly deception.

She shrugged and walked on ahead into the darkened hallway before her. The only voice that really mattered was her own. In just moments, she’d be able to use it on them. They’d have to do anything she wanted. All the secrets over how they operated and pulled off such logic-defying stunts would be hers to pull over and wield. As the sound of her heels hitting the floor filled up the empty hallway, her mind raced as she imagined all of the surprises her future with the group would hold.

It was then that the hallway was filled with an obscenely bright flash. Evaline was immediately stunned and disoriented. She stumbled forward and painfully hit the floor with the side of her face as her forearms slipped and struggled to break her fall. Even parts of her body unhurt by her tumble ached. The coldness of the floor, somehow amplified, hit her just as hard as the fall did and helped ease some of her brain fog.

She opened up her eyes as the lights in the hallway slowly turned on. As she pushed herself off of the cold floor and stood up, she realized that she was completely naked and instinctively put her hands on herself to cover up her chest and crotch. Her nudity became all the more alarming when she looked out ahead and saw him standing in front of her. He wore a clean and tailored black suit which helped him look more the part of someone involved in the most bougie criminal organization possible. He held a red gun-shaped object in his right hand that emitted a small amount of smoke as if it had just been used. She craned her head upwards to see his face, but noticed it was covered up by a mask.

She wished that the mask, his voice, the apparent weapon he wielded, or his stealth in sneaking up to her like that was the most disconcerting thing about him. Instead it was the fact that he looked to be about 100 feet tall. A quick and panicked glance around her revealed that it was the same hallway as before, only with every dimension multiplied. Her clothes, absolutely gigantic to her, were piled up behind her. It was obvious to her now that she shared the same physically impossible and strange fate as the Mona Lisa and had been shrunken down. Evaline couldn’t have been any taller than 4 inches now.

“Let’s begin!” he exclaimed.

She spun back around and watched as he bent down and reached towards her with his empty hand. All she could do at that moment was scream out. Her voice was all she had left.

It’s there and it functions, but the text is the same color as the background for whatever reason

@diminution-man said in Shibari Cat's Cradle:

“Guess what? I found a use for all that dental floss you never used!”

the fuck kinda dental floss are you buying

if only the power of submission could change that font color to allow for more contrast against the background image