Best posts made by HHunter1

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HH1

I’ve been into shrunken women for years and it hasn’t made me like feet one bit. I feel like an outlier for thinking most feet* are repulsive. I never understood wanting a tiny under your foot when you could feel them squirming in your hands.

HH1
*Most feet, even I have to admit Margot Robbie has nice feet.

@Deedee Your going to encourage the boys to bring toys to school aren’t you? And possibly an new one home.

HH1

I swear I’m the only sw fan that doesn’t like feet or feet related things. I’m a stranger in a small land.

HH1

Now if your just talking SW as game pieces, then many games are available.

Clue, have them dressed as stylized versions of the suspects. This one has the chance to win one of the SWs as the one who solves the case could “Jail” the suspect in their own private prison. Good for tournaments or just private games.

Mousetrap, cute little color coded mouse costumes. The ones of your opponent you catch is yours. I think you can get to an escape area. Been years since I played.

Battleship would be good for different sized SW. They could have ship inspired outfits. Though how you place the pegs is up to you in your stories.

Sorry, those you get home are yours to keep. The winner gets all his and any who didn’t make it. Oops, Sorry.

Operation, you think avoiding the sides was hard before. Now try it with SW dressed like the aliments squirming in those tweezers.

Hungry Hungry Hippo, Each Marble could contain a SW. The more your hippo eats the more you get. Though depending on your preferred SW size, this could be a massive sized game.

I have a few more ideas, but they are for less generally know about games. Most games could be modified, just depends on your interests.

An older story that was supposed to be part of a larger group of stories. I know, needs editing. But I wanted to share something here since I haven’t done that in a while. Hope you enjoy.

Horance Tuttle was bored. It was midnight, but he wasn’t feeling tired just yet. He could work on securing his web site. For the special items he planned on selling through it, he couldn’t let anyone just happen upon it. He was setting up an invite only access. He had to be certain there were no backdoor ways into the site. If he was to guarantee the safety of his clients and himself, no one else could learn he was selling special pets online. Especially since his special pets would be shrunken women slaves.

He thought about playing with one of his pets. But which one. Emma, his old high school crush? Owning her was sweet revenge for how she treated him. He loved how she would glare at him while he fondled her wonderful figure. But she didn’t resist any more. Sanisha, her milk chocolate form would feel great against his tongue for mouth play. He had seen her as he scanned through the city one night. But she just let him play from the start. There was Sheila. She was the reason he was setting up the site in the first place. If she hadn’t fired him, he wouldn’t need a new source of income. He had only shrunk her to show her what a stupid bitch she was. And to test his handheld gun. As fun as toying with her was, he would be glad to sell her on an open market.

No, he knew what he wanted. A new toy. But where to look at midnight. Horace smiled, it’s not midnight everywhere. Checking the web he soon learned it was noon in South Vietnam. Asians had the best toys, time he had one to play with. The satellite took a few moments to navigate to orbit over Ho Chi Minh City. But where to go once there. Taking a quick look he found some tables where people were eating. There had to be a good target there. The computer gave him estimated face images of the patrons. One table caught his eye, it had four girls at it. They all looked to be in their early twenties. He started to scan away. “Horace,” he muttered to himself, “Any of those will make a good new toy.”

He started to type in the capture sequence. Then Horace realized that if he grabbed them all there it would be noticed. Even though they wouldn’t know what had happened. Too many witnesses might cause problems later. He would have to wait until one or more of the girls were in a more deserted area. Focusing on the group he chose one to track. It was an easy choice, the cute one in glasses.

According to her scan, she was 5’3" tall and just over 100 Lbs. with long black hair down to her waist. She would be just over 5" after capture. Which was interesting, but it was her long legs for her height with stretched up to perfectly curved hips which supported her torso and what the scan stated were D-cup breasts. A toy like was truly collectible.

He locked the tracker on her and went for a snack. He thought about putting on a better outfit than his bathrobe and boxers. But why really, he was comfortable. He watched as the girls went shopping through some sort of street market. They were taking their good time with their shopping. He thought about blowing off some tension with one of his other pets. But he wanted to be ready when his new pet, or if real lucky, pets arrived.

Suddenly, they split into two groups of two. his target and friend were walking down a street with heavy traffic. They stopped at a corner and talked. It was nearly 3am at this point. Horace typed in the retrieval and ratio commands. He left the target amounts as open just in case. He waited, hardly breathing. The excitement of the capture still made his heart race.

They parted ways, the target amount was quickly filled in, one. She turned into an area of apartment buildings with little traffic and no one else within 100 feet. Activate.

The girl walked a few paces before realizing her surroundings had changed. She looked around a bit. Dropping her purse, she brought her hands up to her face and started to slowly walk backwards. She looked like she was about to scream. She had not yet noticed Horace. He leaned down, his face hovering just above his new toy and said softly, “So Beautiful, do you speak English?”

The girl turned to look. Screaming immediately. Her arms shot out as if to ward off an attack, then turned and ran a few steps. She stopped and her head started looking back and forth, seemingly looking for a place to hide.

Horace easily grabbed the girl. Her body was warm and firm in his fingers. She was frantically trying to force his index finger open with her right hand. He could barely feel her nails clawing at his skin. He indulged in a little maniacal chuckle at her feeble attempt at freeing herself. He turned his hand so she was now facing him. His finger had pinned her upper left arm against her torso and wrapped across her chest under her right arm. She looked at him in terror. Frantically clawing and pushing at his digit. Her body wiggling and stretching attempting to become free of his grip. The shirt stretched taut across her bosoms, barely flattening them. Revealing either a good bra, or more likely, firm fake breasts. Horace indulged in some rubbing of the right breast. From the feel of it, it was as he had hoped. He licked his lips in anticipation.

Seeing him do this, the girl must have thought he had another idea in mind. She lifted her hand up defensively screaming something. Horace cleared his throat, speaking slowly and firmly he again asked, “Well my new little toy, do you speak English?” She just kept repeating the same sounds over and over again.

Horace lost his patients, “English, do you speak English?” He yelled. Her reply was to cower and whimper in his grasp.

His smile returned. “Oh well, my little pet, I can still play with you. I don’t need you to talk to have my fun with you.”

With that he reached gently for her glasses. She reached up to protect her face. He smacked her hand with his finger. She yelped in plan. Laughing softly, he again reached for her glasses. Her hand started to move up, but she brought it back down to his finger. He slowly slide the glasses off her face and placed them on the receiving table. He then ran his finger along her cheek. She moved her head slightly away from his touch.

He lifted her to his nose and took a deep breath. Her hair tickled his nose and she smelled of lilies. Lowering her again, he chuckled “How fitting.”

He slid his fingers between his other fingers and her legs. Her legs were smooth and firm to the touch. Seeing her stare at him, terror clearly visible he smiled more and teased, “My you are the perfect little koonago. I think it’s time I got you naked.”

Trapping her between his hands, Horace adjusted his left hand to be able to pin her limbs with his fingers. Holding her legs to his palm and pulling her arms back. This position stretched her shirt even tighter across her ample bosom. He couldn’t stop himself from giving her breasts a light squeeze together. He then started to rub them with his index and middle fingers. Just a light shirt, he thought to himself, just rip it open and get a real look. “No,” talking to himself out loud to regain composure, “not yet.” “Besides,” he continued as he stroked the side of her face, “we will get to enjoy those once you’re naked. Isn’t that right pet?”

Her only reply was a scared whimper. “Shh,” he teased, placing his finger just slightly on her lips, “don’t worry pet. I’m enjoying every second of this.” Slowly he slid his fingers down her body. Once to her feet, he flicked her shoes off. Then he hooked her belt with the nail on his pinky. Pulling it out from its loop, he then gave a slight tug to undo the buckle. She gave a slight grunt at that. Once the belt was undone he reached for the top of her little shorts. She tried to wiggle free from his grip repeating something Horace didn’t understand. “Now now,” he teased as he popped the button on her shorts, “if I just tore your clothes off I might break my new toy.” Grabbing the legs of the shorts he pulled them off her adding, “And I’m so looking forward to playing with you.”

She was wearing a pair of high cut white cotton panties with lace trim. Horace couldn’t believe it. Looking her straight in the eyes he gloated, “That’s perfect.” Dropping her shorts on the table he then pressed his pinky against her crotch. Despite her efforts he forced it between her legs. He started repeatedly rubbing the tip of it where her vulva would be. She squirmed and twisted in protest of the obscene message. She started to voice what was most likely were requests to stop the attention. He felt inclined to rub more intently which added a whimpered grunt with her protests. “I know pet,” he teased, “You can’t get a real feel until I removed these pesky panties huh.” Hooking the top of them with his finger he slid along her legs. She started screaming at him. It was obvious she was trying hard to sound angry, but her terror was overshadowing her words.

Horace knew he had to be grinning like a madman but couldn’t help it. This was too much fun. He went back to rubbing her now uncovered womanhood. She wiggled and yelled at him so he pressed a bit harder. The lips parted along the outer end of his pinky. Her struggling worked out of her as he kneaded her. The verbal protests turned down to a whisper short phrase she repeated between strokes. He could feel her body was submitting to his play as the tip of his finger was becoming moistened by her. He thought of sliding his finger into her, but decided against it. That would be fun for another time.

Looking at her face, he could see a slight glisten of sweat on her skin. She was staring off away from his face. The sweat made the already tight shirt stick more to her torso. The material across her breasts now had two slight points where her nipples had now reacted to his play. “What a good girl you are pet,” she looked at him as he spoke with clear confused desperation. “Are you ready to be more fun for me?” he asked, knowing she had no clear idea of what he was saying. She just stared wide eyed and mouth gaping in fear, though her neck seemed to be bobbing with the rhythm of his rubbing. “Yeah I know, you’re just my toy, who cares if you’re ready or not huh?” he teased. She still just stared. He brought her up to his face. With just the tip of his tongue he gave her face a lick. She said something in a begging protest tone. Horace got a taste of make up.

“Hmm, so much for some kisses.” He joked. “Guess it’s time I finish unwrapping you.” Stopping his stroking he reached up for the right collar of her shirt. Her legs pressed together as if she could stop him if he wanted to go back to fingering her. As he got a firm pinch of fabric she verbalized some sort of plea. Looking her in the eye Horace replied in a mock comforting tone, “Don’t worry toy, I’m sure they are beautiful.” The buttons stood no chance against his proportionate strength. Some slipped loose of their hold. But most popped right off. She let out a slight cry of pain. Her shirt now open he could see the tiny white cups of her bra barely containing the ample flesh behind. Her nipples are still poking at the cups. She panted with fear caused them to heave slightly. Rubbing the cotton covers with the tips of his first fingers the contents felt firm still to his touch. She just looked at him with pleading eyes. He placed her into his right hand and tried to pull the shirt from her back. She screamed and arched in pain. Stopping he let the shirt go and released the grip he had on her. She sat on his right palm cross leg turned toward him. Her head down in submission. Before he said anything she started slipping the damaged shirt from her back. She flipped her hair off her shoulders and showed him the red lines where the material had started to dig into her shoulders. He expected her to cover herself back up. But instead she placed her arms behind herself and rested her palms against his. Though she looked away and down. “What a good pet.” he praised.

Turning her face back to look at him. He then stroke his fingertip down her neck across her ample cleavage. He gave her bra a slight tug with his nail. Snapping his fingers to stick out his thumb and then jerking his hand back in the hopes she understood his unspoken command. His new toy was a smart girl, she steadily herself. Leaned forward for balance and reached for the release of her bra. She started to look away from his face again. But stopped and looked right at him. Her face, an intoxicating mixture of pleading, fear and defeat. He knew she could see in his desire and excitement. He could not help but lick his lips in lust for his new toy. Once the bra was undone she pushed the straps off her shoulders and let them fall down her arms. Positioning to her knees and lifting the bra from her lap by the cups she held it up to him in her hands. Like a sacrifice to him, her new god. Looking at him in submissive obedience. Horace jerked his head to one side. She obediently tossed her bra aside as if it had lost all meaning. Leaning back, Balancing herself on her hands and sticking her now bare breasts she awaited her new masters next gestured command. Her breast didn’t seem to sag. They sat firmly on display with big round areola and nipples staring back at him.

Horace laughed with delight. She looked away and down. Obviously shamed by his treatment. But unable to protest. Smiling he pressed her back against his palm. Pinning her arms back with his fingers and thumb to force her chest forward. He lifted her small form to his lips. Running his tongue along her breasts. Licking her torso as if it was some sort of sweet treat. He could hear her mumbling something over and over. What fun he thought. Sucking both mounds into his mouth, he ran his tongue around, between and over them with zeal. Her whimpering became clear words she chanted over and over again. Not that he knew or cared what she was saying. Looking down his nose he could see her head was turned to look as far away from him as possible. He could feel her legs rub his chin. The more he slurped and sucked on her firm tits the more her legs rubbed. He switched focus on the little bumps poking on the tops of his treats. Her hip began to rock back and forth in his palm. Her manta started to waver.

Placing his right hand under his chin. The pinky slid slowly along her shapely leg. And found her vulva again. Rubbing the tip eagerly. She screeched when the finger returned. Her manta shortened to three or four syllables. Before long her hips found rhythm with the digit. Her head tilted back and the chant changed to deep gasping breaths. He could feel her straining against his grip toward his face. Her legs wrapped tightly around his invading finger. Desperately pushing it away and failing. He sucked harder on her tits. Too much at first as she yipped. Suddenly uncurled her legs. Allowing his touch to slide inside. Gently he pumped the tip in her tight canal. Her head flopped onto his lip and she screamed in tortured pleasure. Soon her whole body repeatedly twitched from the orgasm he forced upon her.

Once she stopped he moved her into a better reclined view. Her hair was stuck to her face by sweat and his droll. Her head was turned away from him. But her eyes kept turning to look at him then away again. Releasing her arms, she just bent them at the elbows closer to her torso. Her spit glistening breasts heaved as she started to catch her breath. Her legs, bent at the knees, lay spread on the palm. Giving him a clear view of her womanhood. Looking down at his toy he stated softly to her, “Well, it’s late. So I better have my turn now.”

He placed her upon the table. She laid there on her left side leaning over. He stood up over her small form. Undoing his robe he marveled at her curves. Her perfect womanly shape, his to play with. Horace brought his now stiff penis out of his boxers and dangled it over his toy. She must have seen the giant member hanging over cause she suddenly jumped to life with a scream. She started to crawl backwards away from him speaking her gibberish at him. Placing his scrotum against the table he grabbed her lovely stems and dragged her to his phallic. She scratched and clawed but all her fight couldn’t stop him from forcing her legs around the base. Holding her in place with his left hand, he picked up the lube. Horace was about to coat his penis to enjoy a little Asian rub. But the wonderful sensations of her struggles. The flexing and tightening of her legs. Her hands frantically stroking the underside of his cock. He had a new game to try.

Using the hand he had trapped her legs to also pin her shoulder to the table. She screamed as his penis lumbered over her like a tree about to crush her under. He laughed a little in a combination of lust and power. He squeezed the tube to spread the lube from the doll’s chin to her pussy. Her arms were pulled in tight to her sides. Her eyes wide with fear as if she came to realize what he had in mind.

He leaned over. Using his thumbs he pressed his cock down on her. Not enough to crush her. But enough to feel her squirm and wiggle under his manhood. She started to crawl out to the right. But he used his fingers to cage her under. She had no choice but to scale her way to the tip on his manhood. She started to climb under him. Her hands stroked and slipped along. Her legs rubbing and squeezing the sides of his shaft. Her perfect form slowly running along the underside of his penis. The further she made it, the more she spread the lube along with her. She was muttering over and over again as she worked. Her sweet voice chirping her eastern dialect. As she crested the tip, she used her coated hands to try to push her way out from under him. He let her slip her breast out from under. Only to grab her by the ankles with his fingers and slowly dragged her body down the length of his cock. She frantically squirmed and screamed in feeble protest to his power. Horace trembled at the sensation. She started again in panicked desperation. Climbing, rubbing, stroking, wriggling under his cock. She would almost reach freedom, only to be pulled back down the shaft.

The fourth time she just laid there sprawled out, either out of frustration or exhaustion. He tapped her lube coated ass with his finger. She just shook her head and stated something in her language. Again he tapped and she replied the same. Horace out of lust filled frustration slammed his hand into the table. She started climbing again in terror. He no longer had to cage her; she stayed under him. Climbing again and again. Being slid down the shaft over and over. Horace watched her wiggle under him over and over quickly losing count of her trips to the enjoyment of the sensations her body gave him.

Then he felt it. That pull to release. She was half way up. He fought the urge as she stroked the way up. He held on till she popped her two perfect little mounds from under the tip of his penis. The first spray of his pleasure released flowed between her breasts and over her open mouth and down the right side of her face to coat her lube soaked hair. The next blast enveloped her entire head in white liquid. The third he blasted her breasts. The remaining drizzle he let drip over the lower abdomen.

Spent and exhausted Horace collapsed into his chair. He stared at his new doll soaking in a puddle of his released pleasure as he tried not to fall asleep. She laid there coated from her head to just below her crotch in seamen. Her only movement was the heavy breathing she was doing as she quietly sobbed. This brought great enjoyment to Horace. Her spirit seemed already broken yet he could still see many ways to use her. Horace gained enough composure to stand and pull up his boxers. As much as he wanted to play more with his new toy he was worn out. He lifted the plaything by her ankles. She dangled limply in his grasp dripping on the table as he gathered her belongings. Being extra careful with picking up her glasses.

Horace walked over to his doll room. laid his new pet in his containment table and placed the belongings beside her. Ringing the gong to wake his three other current pets. The groggily walked out of their cages to the gathering spot. Emma and Candace ran over to the new girl to try to console her. They gave Horace a dirty look. But a snir back from him turned their attention back to the girl. Janice on the other hand spouted off, “Horace you piece of shit. What the hell did you do to that poor girl you worthless bastard.”

His finger jabbed her with enough force to send her rolling. She laid there stunned as Horace placed his finger above her face. “Listen here you little bitch, you’re all mine to do with as I wish. You are only here until I find a way to make you worth the space you still take up. You two, clean her up and teach her the ropes. She is going to make one fun toy. Oh, and don’t teach her too much English. I like when she whines in Asian.”

With that Horace left the room. He heard his pets talking as he was leaving. But no matter, they weren’t going anywhere. He would put them in their place in the morning. For now he needed sleep. Chance to rest and dream of new games to play with his dolls.

CAGES PEOPLE!
How many times does it have to be said. Unless your or or even keep them in a cage. For their safety and yours.

Another Little Public Announcement from:

@giant-me Well, thanks. I’m getting all imposter syndrome over here. I’m glad you enjoy enough to share with others.

Now as for me, it depends on the story I’m envisioning. Some are from the shrunken, some from the giant (Note: I don’t really have any giant stories, I just don’t know what else to call them. Cagers? Reducers? Did I miss the slang memo for this?) Sometimes I want the readers to experience the fear worry while other times I want them to enjoy the selfish cruelty. Not that I haven’t started nice giant stories, I just have none finished in any sharable state.

I don’t think I have any personally written stories that switch between shrunken and Giant though, maybe I should.

Thanks again, I’m going to curl in my chair and reason my way out of accepting praise. Honestly still happily weirded out by such bold compuments.

HH1

@tiny-ivy Well thank you. I am glad I entertained you. I’m not sure if I’ll continue this one. But I really apricate comments. I find they help encourage me to write.

I just had the idea of humans as a happy drug for giant aliens and that’s what came out. Also, the Vore conversation that had been happening must have gotten how could safe vore work stuck in my mind.

Though I had kicked around writing the same story from one of the girl’s perspective. Or more of Murre and Grilyn’s surveying. Or even a secret meeting at Spire Corporation about the find and a way to make harvesting legal.

But, I also have other ongoing stories I haven’t worked on in a bit and a dozen other ideas bouncing in my noggin. Really I just seem to be rambling because I am excited for some attention.

Hope I didn’t babble to much of a reply,

HH1

Wow, she took that eyes open. Poor thing.

I have long been honest with myself about my sw writing. It’s straight male power fantasy when it gets right down to it. The women are always gorgeous shapely physically fit. One or more usually becomes obsessed with being the male characters sexual plaything. Why do I include these elements, because the first member of my reading audience is me and that’s what I want to read. I am well aware my female characters are overly idealized, it is fantasy writing after all.

But I do include (Depending on the story) elements that are slightly or fully out of my interests in vain hopes to appeal to others in the fandom. I am strangely not interested in Lesbian acts, but I often include such things for example. Likely why I have so little F/f content in my stories. But to grow a audience one needs more then their wants on show. There are some subjects I just can’t get myself to include, people like what people like and people don’t like what they don’t like and I am a person after all.

I myself don’t find male genitalia attractive. On it’s own I wouldn’t look for it. But I do enjoy a good tiny lady hugging a hard cock image. Its part of the fantasy for me. I do look for such content as well as the lovelies in cradling or coiled hands or arching arousingly from a giant’s mouth.

As for describing the male character, I tend to give mostly vague descriptions I think. Hair color, body shape, fit or flabby. But not when the main is the male. I mean when was the last time you picked up something thinking to yourself about how you would describe what you look like. (I might have and forgotten, don’t at me bro )

Really, as should be expected we all have our own writing styles and image preferences. Be honest about what you do and don’t like, but I think we shouldn’t be dicks about either.

Hope this came off as I intended as I agree with your point but wanted to ramble my ideas too.

HH1

PS: On a side note, I hope no one is insulted but I don’t usually read others SW works. And it’s simply a personal thing where I worry I’ll steal something with out meaning to. Many of my started works from my earlier attempts at writing I found incorporated ideas from stories I had read. Likely why I haven’t completed them as they were other’s ideas in a way.

I am more then willing to hedge my bets and look at something if someone really thinks it might be down my alley. I just don’t want to be plagiarizing without realizing it. Hope that also makes sense to people.

Hello,
A while ago I was creative writing with a friend I met online. I would share a part then they would share a part. Then they suddenly seemingly just stopped replying. I’m not sure what happened but I hope their alright.
Anyway, I had this idea and written it out then shared it with them. I will not be sharing their additions or my works off them as I don’t have permission from my missing friend. But I may add new chapters later if there is an interest in the start of this story. Hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think.

HH1

CH 01: A Fearful Return

Lavender awoke to a beautiful morning. Sun shined into her little window of their weaved straw house. A popular newer type of structure since the old Lumberer had stopped attending the lands of Eastyard. Papa had been one of the last men to move up out of an underhouse, and she remembered her first sun shining morning and fell in love with them.

Now they have lived in this house since the years of prosperity had started so many years ago. Papa did so well as a harvester that he now had four wives to produce him many sons. As first daughter of his first wife she was given her own little room. Course Papa also made it no secret that as his first child she held a certain high spot in his heart.

Thistle and Daisy were serving breakfast for the family. Lavender was greeted with two warm hugs and even warmer boiled seeds. Leftovers from the winter stock, used up so nothing goes to waste. Soon Dandelion seeds and nectar would soon be a regular breakfast.

She took her bowl out into the patch of shorter grass that allowed laundry to be dried. It also allowed her to feel the happy sun on her skin. Mama waved from hanging clothes, “Your father is looking for you on the mound.”

“Thanks Mama.” She replied. Rushing over to where a little bump in the ground had formed after the old Lumberer had stopped having the land ravished.

This meant plants would grow strong and tall. Papa’s lands were filled with seeding plants. Better yet a few years ago Raspberry trees grew on this land. Raspberries sold well to the upper families in the city in the shed. Another area of growth since the Lumberer stopped coming out to tend its own garden.

All this good fortune was good for Lavender as well. Dad would often boost after a touch too much honey mead of how prosperous her dowry was. It had to be as he told it as at last fall’s Matching Festival, Roland, the king’s head advisor, had his handsome son Gunther spend time with her. They both had a wonderful time enjoying the stalls and booths of the festival. Hands hooked together as they watched the bonding ceremony of the new wives being bound to their new husbands. She saw Papa and Roland joyfully shake their hands in agreement at their connection. Though Papa would not confirm the agreement to her no matter how she begged.
She hoped it was as it appeared. Gunther was a handsome tall Fae-Rae. Training in the Military gave him a firm form. But as the head advisor’s son he would never face the dangers of raiding or combat. He would be part of the court of the King. And she would be his first wife, head of his household. She would live in a wall shielded home with servants. She would miss the harvesting area, but was looking forward to her first time servicing her husband’s bed needs and producing his first children.

Crow called overhead happily. As tradition she waved to the day cousin. His bride had yesterday nabbed a garter snake that was worried would be a danger to the smaller children. This went well with the news that Cousin Owl had grabbed a large rat that had started raiding harvester’s stores. She remembered when she was small asking her parents why Crow and Owls ate other creatures their size but never ate Fae-Raes. Mother, the daughter of a poor priest, told the faith stories of how Crow and Owl became the Fae-Rae’s day and night cousins. Papa waited for Mama to finish and go to do other work and teased it was because Fae-Raes tasted bad to them.

Papa saw her rush up. “You need to sit and eat your breakfast like a proper lady. Not shove it in your maw as you rush about.” He teased, but he was right. This behavior was wrong for her future life.

“Sorry Papa. Just wanted to see what you wanted me to look after today.” She loved her father. Tall and strong. Still youthful enough that a few of her aged friends noted an interest in becoming his fifth wife.

He smiled looking over the land. “Bees are dancing early this morning. Last winter was kind and Spring’s rains were gentle. Looks like another rich harvesting season this year. Good for your little sister’s Dowries.”

“And how can I help them find good husbands?” She asked.

“With that garter gone and Owl chased off any rats from the area. Why don’t you take them to flat rock to play about. Too rough and no men will want them no matter what I pack into their chests.” her father advised.

“And my dowry?” she asked.

“All ready. A lucky young man will be waiting for it at the Bonding Festival in the fall.” Papa teased.

“And he is?” she pried.

A smile told he wouldn’t break tradition and advised, “Hoping the summer passes fast. Now go gather the little ones. Today, even I won’t have to do much. We are blessed by this land with another easy day.”

She finished her breakfast and gathered many of the children. Her closer siblings came along to help watch them. They arrived at the flat rock. The rains had left a small pond for them to skip pebbles across. An old stick allowed them to climb and scale. Talents they would need in the fall to help harvest late berries and seeds.

Neighboring families must have also found it would be an easy day as more older siblings guiding their young ones arrived and games of chase and ball started. Bronto smiled in a way that made her skin go warm. She found herself hoping if Gunther hadn’t accepted her Dowry that Bronto did. His broad harvest trained body and thick black hair was a welcome addition to this day.

It was shortly after they had gathered that she heard something. Looking up, Lady Crow and her husband flew in circles called out. She called back and waved. Then she noticed they were not the usual calls. These were cautioned, warning yells from their day cousins. “We should gather the children.” she says to Bronto.

He looked up and nodded, “Everyone come close now please.”
As the older siblings herd the younger a sound touches Lavender’s ears. It was familiar somehow. Her foggy memory only hints that is danger. But what? What could it be and why were the Crows so agitated? Then her mind suddenly screamed with realization, it was a mower.

“Run to the standing rock. A mower is coming!” She screamed at the gathered youth.

Many of the younger children had no idea what a mower was. The old Lumberer hadn’t tended theses lands in years. She was tiny still when a mower last made harvests hard. The whole reason that straw houses were now about was because there had been no more mowers.

Bronto suddenly accepted this horrible fact that a mower had returned. Grabbing his smallest brother and hefting him into his grip he pointed and shouts, “Lavender is right. Run that way now!” A man spoke and they listened.

Lavender ran, making sure the small children were before her. The older siblings shepherding the younger towards the one real hill in Eastyard. A craggy boulder that sat to one side of the fields. A place of climbing in early springs and late falls. The mossy top was great for summer picnics. But today it was the internal catacombs that they wanted. The rock walls would protect them from mower blades.

It was getting louder and louder. Soon the ground they ran across would be shredded by the machine’s pass. She had to keep stopping and lift or pull smaller children. Her mind screamed for her to run for her own life, but she couldn’t lose her brothers or sisters. Papa would never forgive her.
Into the under cave the gathering made it. No one else was here. Bronto shouted for one of his brothers when a girl Lavender didn’t know well pointed out towards the coming sound and said trembling, “He fell out there.”

“I’ll be right back, stay with Lavender.” he commanded his younger siblings and dashed back into the towering grass.
The sound was getting closer and closer. Lavender vaguely remembered that mowers had terrible sucking wind that traveled with them. “Everyone, go to the dripping cave now.” she screamed.

“But Bronto.” one of his siblings begged.

“Now.” she screamed. Worried for the towering Fae-Rae man as well.

Soon he came into view carrying a young crying boy. Then her heart froze, she could see the front of the mower. Hungry eating the tall plants and anything else in its path. Moving so much faster than Bronto could ever go.

Bronto looked over his shoulder then moved his brother. His muscles strained and the boy flew towards her. Lavender dashed out and caught the lad. Quickly backing into the cave begging Bronto to make it.

But the machine was too fast. His little brother stretched as the machine’s winds lifted the man off the ground. Lavender turned inside the cave to claw her fingers into the holes in the side of the wall. She watches as Bronto disappears up and under that horrible machine. It’s whirling blades chopping whatever is pulled into their range. If Bronto screamed in fear or pain she couldn’t tell over the roar of that metal beast.
It was pulling at her as it approached. Then it suddenly turned and ravaged away from the rock. She had to see where it was going. Dropping the wailing boy in the dripping cave she took the up cave to the mossy ledged.

There it went. Yards away in as little time as it took a crow to fly the same distance. She knew the family homes along that path and looked to where they would have been to hope for signs of life. Maybe an old mower cellar or seed store would open and those parents would be alive. No stones lifted. Just short shorn plants trembling in the breeze.

The machine was returning. A path where Bronto’s family harvesting area was. Lavender could see panicked parents gathering and directing remaining working children. But they were directing them towards this very hill. They would never make it. She begged them to turn and run east. To where that horrible machine had already eaten the life giving plants. They wouldn’t be able to out do the Lumberer pushing the destroying thing.

Bronto’s father learned that too late. He thought he might slow the beast and hurled a spear at its closest tire. It didn’t land, dashed by the machine’s winds. The barrel chested man was lifted from the ground and taken by the machine. His second wife was next. Being pregnant, she couldn’t run fast. Lavender felt a tear trickle down her cheek as the woman was lifted up and in, holding her unborn child the whole way.
Bronto’s mother was next. In her panic she wrapped limbs around a thick raspberry stock. She managed to hold on till the machine traveled over her. But no sign of her as it passed. Bronto’s sister fell. Next summer would have been her last summer with her family before her bounding if that machine had any caring. It didn’t.

Lavender watched as a straw house was basically pushed over and ravaged by that machine. Families in terror fueled run came dashing towards this hill only to be devoured to a member. Others in their panic try to hide in the tall grass. Their fear made them forget that was what mowers eat most. And as it ate the tall plants it also dined on them.

Her heart froze. It was heading towards where her home hid in the field. Too far to see if Papa or Mama had gotten away. Did Martess and Gangla reach a safe spot. She could see her house and the out buildings. Her ears cruelly noted the change in the blades’ whirring sounds as it rend her home from the Earth. Everything they owned, every happy memory diced like soft shelled seeds. She vomited.

Other crying voices told her she wasn’t the only one witnessing these horrid actions. She tried to look upon anything but the metal machine raping the life from these lands. It’s operator.

The old Lumberer had been carried away by other Lumberers last summer. So this Lumberer was new to her. Tall, well they were all tall to her. He was wearing long pants and a shirt with no sleaves. A hat popular with Lumberers as far as she knew and shaded lens glasses. Round buds with a bracket cover his ears. He had the round belly of the successful merchant types that had come about as prosperity had lasted longer and longer. Up to a flat upper chest that hinted he once was an active man. Arms larger than some neighbor’s houses.
The worst was his face. She wanted him to have evil features or to be as hideous as his actions. But they were not. He looked like a kind man. Like the type to help his neighbors with a bit of food during a hard winter. Handsome even in a way for a man of his age. His smile looked welcoming. His mouth danced like he was singing. If he was she couldn’t hear his tune over that rending mower.

She couldn’t look at the Lumberer any more. Nor watch the death he was unknowingly bringing. She staggered down to the dripping cave and openly started dripping tears as well.
Soon one of her brothers told her, “The Lumberer is gone.”
The group starts out of the cave and into the destroyed field. The plants and grass are barely taller than they are. A strange fine dusting of green bits made following the path difficult. Lavender soon realized the scattering is how small that mower made the bits of plant that it devoured. Forbidding his siblings from picking any up. Worried they would discover a bit that wasn’t plant. Since its victims would likely be diced as small as well.

She staggers into where she had grown up. Frantically she dashed to the house, to find the seed cellar. As if they realized she would need help to clear the area in her search, Crow landed, fluttered about and lifted off. The floor of her home sat empty.

She reached where the kitchen should have been. A bloody smear tore at her hope. She lifted the cellar door. Inside were scattered seeds and more bits of that green debris. Part of the under board had scraps across it. Finger spaced groves like they were pried along the thick wood against their will. She closes the door. She collapsed, suddenly surrounded with her younger siblings clinging to their last protector.

Just as he stomach started to complain a wagon appeared. Word of the disaster had reached the shed and the King had sent his army to collect his surviving citizens. Soon she was eating boiled old seeds for lunch. Learning horribly that the ones from the Standing Rock were the only survivors.
They arrived in the Market area under the bush by the shed. The King asked hopefully to his general, “And the others?”

The General took a deep breath to gather strength and answered, “We found no others, sire.”

The King started to topple before Roland and another caught the rotund man. Panicked voices started, What about harvest? What will we eat? What are we going to do with those children? If the Lumberer mowed there does that mean he’ll whip around here again?

Soon solutions rained back, Lets raid the other kingdoms! Send those leeches back into the wilderness! War on that Lumberer!

Roland held up his hands and the crowd stopped. He was a well respected man. Coming second only to the king in power. He climbed up on an empty wagon, “Everyone, everyone claim please. Your majesty, I have a suggestion. As one of the scouts described the Lumberer didn’t seem to be targeting the homes nor even noticed Fae-Rae presence. It is likely he as a stupid towering human just wasn’t observant enough to see the poor harvesters. I think a simple solution is break from tradition and go into the Lumberer chambers and tell him we live here.”

The crowd gasped at this strange idea. Lumberers were monstrous and cruel according to legends. Fae-Raes went into their soups or crushed beneath their hands and heels. But Roland just let them murmur the raised his hand again and the mob silenced. “But my advisor if we tell him we are here wouldn’t he just destroy faster?”

“I, in my research on this new Lumberer, says otherwise. From his magic library it looks like he has a fascination with Fae-Rae sized people. I am certain that if properly approached he could be made from a danger to an advantage. And the approach I suggest I know he’ll like and solve part of our other problem.” Roland advised. Lavender didn’t like how he pointed towards the full wagons when referring to other problems.

“And what approach is that?” The King asked.

“Well, as you know the younger survivors could be easily found homes as adopted additions or as servants. The problem we have is, from what I can tell, six of them are of Bounding age girls. Bounding age with no more Dowry means they would not be of interest to any men looking to start or expand their families. And no first wives are going to want nubile unattached serving girls their age in their homes. We should offer those six young ladies with no future to that Lumberer to ensure ours.” Roland proudly explained his plan.

Lavender’s heart raced in panic. She looked into the crowd for a supporting face against that mad idea. None, they cheered on her sacrifice. Gunther saw her looking at him and turned away in disgust, without her dowry she wasn’t worth his attention.

“Guards take the young ones to the temple to start finding them new homes. Gather the Bondable aged ladies to fulfill Roland’s brave plan.” the King commanded.

Lavender was torn from her wailing siblings. She was dragged with five others of her age to an empty wagon and bound to the inside. Guards stood around the wagon. People approached and thanked them for their sacrifice. Marina told of the truth and begged to be rescued. But none even suggested they would.

Roland approached and actually gave her a sad look. Then to a guard he commanded, “Take them to my home. My staff is waiting to bathe and dress them for their presentation to our new neighbor.”

“Yes my lord.” the Guard replied.

Lavender was taken to that home. Larger by her home by far. Ladies, servants and wives of Roland forced the six of them to strip. Lavender could only think of one reason she needed to be bathed and seasoned with flower scents. Like when you find a root bulb, you don’t want grit in your teeth. They were given clothes not suited for public sight. Barely clad with sparkling beads. A cloak hid their near nakedness.

They were reloading into the cart. Roland rode in his own fancy wagon. Traveling towards the scariest of locations, the Lumberer’s house. The warriors that traveled with them wore Roland’s colors and not the Kings.

Hethrea asked in a whisper, “Will the Lumberer eat us?”

Marina nodded in defeat, “Likely. What else could we be to that towering beast.” A guard hushed them.

They reached the crack the brave raiders used for years to gather Lumberer items when the old Lumberer lady lived in the towering building. The building’s top was well beyond Lavender’s ability to see. In a dusty strange old dry wood smell path they were carried on soldiers’ backs. Using metal posts sticking out from the wood as a ladder they traveled deeper into the land of her nightmares.

Cooking meat could be smelled. Lights powered by unknown powers made the inside glow. Lavender’s stomach growled, it was supper time she realized. Roland stopped and told his commander, “Wait here.”

The tall Fae-Rae man walked out like he had done at the opening of many festival starting ceremonies. He took a deep breath and bravely said, “Greetings Lumberer.”

The Lumberer stopped and looked around. Then continued leaning over a steaming pan.

“GREETINGS LUMBERER!” Roland bellowed.

Again the terrifying thing turned and looked. But didn’t notice the Advisor.

This time Roland yelled but added waving arms to his request for the giant’s attention. And stepped back in smart nervousness as the thing seemed to zoom over. “What in the world?” the Lumberer gasped softly.

“I am Roland. I represent a Kingdom of Fae-Rae that lives near your home. I would like to request a deal. A kindness from you for a gift from us.” Roland explained.

Lavender was again taken with the kind features on the scary giant. He didn’t look down at Roland with contempt or ridicule. No, he looked intrigued. “What were you thinking I can help you with?” he asked softly. Seemingly aware his size would make his voice a weapon to the small man.

“We live off the land. We would request you leave where we live wild so we can harvest the berries and seeds that grow there. And we will give you gifts that will intrigue your personal interests. We also can let you know how and where to find other gifts in trade for other considerations.” Roland offers.

“What type of gifts?” the Lumberer asks.

Roland snapped his fingers and made a waving action. Lavender’s hands are unbound and her cloak is pulled off her body. Two guards began dragging towards the view of the giant. She struggles but the smooth fabric slipper she was made to wear found no grip. She looks up and that beast’s eyes go wide. It’s not hunger, but there is a want in his deep brown eyes.

A massive hand coils around her as the guards panic away. Lavender feels its powerful muscles press the digits around her. She isn’t crushed, more cradled in his grip. All she can see is his curious face examining her. She can feel his skin warming around her. “Beautiful, like a perfect little Asian beauty.” he praises. It is strangely comforting for Lavender.
“We have more for you if you agree to our terms. And If you like I can help you find other varieties.” Roland pushes his offer again.

“You know I’m sure we can come to an understanding Mister?” The giant says still studying Lavender’s barely covered form.

“Roland, Soon King of Eastyard. Yours?” Roland said.

“Bruce Walker, and if I missed my guess. Likely the reason you’re the new king?” The Lumberer guessed.

“Well, if we can come to agreements.” Roland confirmed.

“I have just finished making supper. I have more than enough to share with you and your guards. We should discuss more over food?” Bruce suggested.

“I would be honored.” Roland accepted.

Lavender was relieved she wasn’t on the menu. No, his giant finger tracing along her leg told he wanted her very alive.

I wonder if Steve O Reno inspired them.

I’m flattered, Thanks. Sorry I don’t reciprocate.

HH1

If it makes you feel better about posting there, I have been for a while now. Posting my size related M/f stories. Even my stories get a fair amount of readers. Though they don’t allow you to self promote. So you can’t advertise your patron or the like.

HH1