@thereducer I can understand that. I’m not kidding. My mind goes ga-ga for comments on my work. Its like caffeine for my imagination.
My biggest counter is I personally don’t comment enough on others works as I should. Share the comment crack as it were.
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@giant-me I prefer the Old Dc/Marvel comics as well.
Pissing isn’t a usual thing I use. Just when I’m aiming for a crueler larger character. A more selfish giant as it were.
@giant-me I love hearing from fans. Thanks. I hope to continue entertaining you.
Honestly I’m a writing simp, hearing from people interested in my stories really gets my imagination pumping out ideas.
Also, reluctantly, I should mention my coffee link below. But, really, yeah comments. 
What I’d like to say is like the others. Only a willing and reversible.
But studying history tells of human nature. Power corrupts. So then it slips to how do I shrink people. Worse and most corrupting would be a remote ability to shrink and summon. A portal or teleporting device. Then I know I’d get curious. Tempted. Some pretty girl would catch in my imagination. Just this once I’d say. Wearing a mask. She doesn’t know me really. But likely once I had that access, that control. I’d want it again. Then I’d be a supervillain planning out how to manipulate my device/power to gain riches and increase my harem.
A device or even by mind that requires me to be in the presence. The chance to get seen would hinder me. Might even stop me. But one slip up and I think I’d fall again. As a kid I got addicted to shoplifting. I got a rush from it. It likely wouldn’t be long before I was on the news in some foolish costume claiming that the police can never hold someone of my power!
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Many of my giant characters usually don’t need to worry much about punishing as their size and power usually counter any resistance a Shrunken could do. Over powering limbs with ease to wrap around an erect cock or insert into a wanting pussy. Then the pointless struggles just add to the sensations the larger being is already enjoying.
But I have included torments that could be seen as punishments. Many have already been mentioned, Flicking spanks, cold containment, restraining/containing.
One I didn’t notice (Sorry if I missed it) is the simple squeezing fist. A Shrunken held in one hand casually. Fingers wrapped around the little body. They could restrain the arms or let them loose for all the difference that would make. Held face level and just tighten your grip. Such a simple action should make it clear to the held what choices they have.
Now, a scattering of ideas I’ve used that might be questionable:
In one story universe I had the humans have access to pills that turned the Shrunken being into a lustful plaything. Once they bound one and gave them one of these pills and just let them endure the effects without any attention or way to pleasure themselves.
Another in the same world are small animals (Mostly Rodents) that are specially bred to be aroused by tiny people. They would just drop a Shrunken person in and the animal would overpower and indulge itself.
Lastly, simple if disgusting, urinating on the tiny being. Showing they are less then human. Lower then their owner. Claiming them almost like an animal.
Wow, I seem a little disturbed. Maybe I need to rethink my stories.
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Well, lets see if I communicate this clearly.
I think I like the unnatural control of the Big/small dynamic. A situation that even in a mutual respect situation the larger will still have more control. Only in very limited situations would the small would have control. A Shrunken woman in a man’s fist is at his mercy. His to do with as he likes. I think that it has a lot to do with the fact I’ve never had much control in my life. That the idea of being a titan before someone is appealing.
Now I’m not a dom in real life. I’m uncomfortable being in charge of anything. I too am an equilest. Both people in a relationship have to be at the same level. I think that’s why I like the term partner over Boy/girlfriend/Wife/husband.
Now that doesn’t mean all my writings are big man uses little woman. But, yeah, most are at some level. I do include F/f, but that’s not really an interest of mine. Heck, I have many scenes of the tiny enjoying the giant’s attentions. But I think that’s from my delight at pleasuring a woman.
Hope that makes sense?
As for aspects I enjoy/use:
Hand play: I like it when a guy strokes a shrunken woman. Admires them as the lovely little being they are. Some of the more enjoyable scenes I’ve written are of a giant almost massaging the tiny woman’s naked form.
Mouthplay: Orally exploring the tiny woman’s body. Suckling their legs (Funny enough, I’m not a feet guy), breasts, and so on. Sexually licking the tiny woman. Lapping along her womanhood. Using the texture and mass of a giant tongue to stimulate her into a satisfied stupor.
Cock play: Having the tiny woman work their form along the manhood. Stroking with their legs while the rub their busts into the sensitive skin. Or with more selfish man, wrapping the helpless tiny woman around their hardened shaft and stroking the tiny body along as they want.
I’m sure there are more, just can’t think of more. Man, I sound like a monster don’t I?
Now for other things. I understand vore. The power of it. The containment of it for some. But, I too see it as an end. And therefore wasteful. I’ve used it and will use it in stories. And honestly, at times, have been aroused at the idea. But mostly, its to remove unwanted tiny women from the wanted tiny women.
Footplay, no. But I just don’t like feet. I’m the same with feces. Strangely I do use urinating on tinies, but it’s to degrade/lessen the target more then any sexual desire. Make them seem even less then human in the character’s mind.
Insertion: Only in F/f style scenes. And usually non-fatal. Entrapment but not deadly crushing mostly. Like the F is being intensely stimulated by the f squirming inside their pussy.
Well, I should stop rambling. I hope I haven’t offended anyone. This is an opinion request so no one is wrong. Just different likes.
Questions?
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Adding a chapter to my story. I’m skipping the second chapter because, well, it’s not done yet. But it isn’t necessary to read to read this one so I hope you enjoy.
Ch 03: Jim’s Lunch
“Good day Mr. Hathaway, table for two?” Jenn greeted him to the restaurant.
“Hello Jenn, no lone lunch today. Mr. Jackson has to go to his current job today. But I promise he’ll visit again soon.” He told the lovely younger woman.
Jim expected her to lie about knowing where to sit him. But she didn’t, “Sorry Mr. Hathaway, I was just wondering. Mr. Jackson hasn’t called me yet.”
He smiled at her. Will must have made quite the impression on the beautiful Hostess in their short interactions on Will’s first visit to the Little Nibbles Café. “It’s only been a couple days. Likely he didn’t want to seem too eager.”
He is amused at the slight blush on her cheeks as she asks, “If you don’t mind, you could tell him he could be a little more eager.”
Jim nodded, “I’ll let him know.”
Jim sat at the booth Jenn led him to as she noted, “Thanks. Hope you enjoy your meal Mr. Hathaway.”
“Thank you Jenn.” he replied.
Shortly his waitress arrived. Debra wasn’t his favorite. She was a skilled waitress, nearly never getting a customer’s order wrong. But she was also a man dismissing lesbian. And she had the stereotypical more rigid facial features that went with her orientation. Not truly man-ish, but not as lovely as the other ladies of the wait staff. He chastised himself, he was mostly just being prejudice.
“Hello Mr. Hathaway. Would you like a menu and to hear today’s specials?” Debra asked. Her smile was betrayed by how her features always gave her expressions an annoyed look.
“No, I already know what I want. Asian salad, Chinese Accents, non-English speaking. Green tea to drink with Japanese, no, Korean accent, non-English as well. Thank you.” Jim requested.
“Certainly, dressing?” she asked.
“Sesame, thank you.” Jim dismissed her.
"Certainly, I’ll go get that for you.‘’ She replied and left to advise the kitchen. Jim shook his head, yeah he preferred watching the other girls walk away.
In short order a bowl was placed before him. Laying in a little circle were eight little naked Asian women. Like fairies sleeping in a mini patch of grass. A tea cup with another Asian woman hanging by her arms which are attached to the cup’s handle. A pot of tea placed within his arm’s length.
Debra tapped the bowl and awakened the Accents. Jim loved this part. Most people think they notice right away they are trapped in a bowl. But they don’t. They look around in confusion. Their perspective trick their little minds into trying to reason where they are. It’s about a minute or two before one even bothers to look up. Once it does and screams at him looking down at them, well, that sets the other seven off.
He snickers, as they chitter in Chinese. He chose non-English to avoid understanding that appealing accented begging. He had a soft spot for that, especially if it was a bit broken English. He had a fair collection already at home of such lovies, he didn’t want to bring home more today. Though the chef picked out some rather lovely accents, he would have to keep the list of included ones. Later meals would likely save one or two, maybe.
He let them whimper as he lifted the pot. The cup bound accent rambled on in her language. Clearly uninterested in the warm tea coming for her to soak in. Yelping in pain and shock as the tea splashes on her legs. The tea isn’t hot enough to scold it, but is warm enough not to be a relaxing bath.
Back to the salad. He lifted the little pitcher of dressing. Pour it over the salad, making sure to splatter the trapped slender black haired ladies. They realize his intentions. Trudging to the bowl edges in a vain hope that they could climb out. But the bowl is designed with a tall walled rim with an inward rounded lip. Even the one or two that reach the edge can’t lift themselves up using the glass smooth ledge.
Jim grabs a spoon and fork. Rotate the salad to coat all the bits of vegetable and nuts with the dressing. Taking great joy in hooking the Accents to roll or toss them among his dish. Once he’s content with the coating he admires how the accents now glisten with the dressing. Small bits of almonds, lettuce, cabbage and other ingredients stick to them in amusing ways.
His fork stabs into the veg pile near a couple of them. Fear Filled screams as they dive away, the salad too thick for them to run. He chews his collected bits as he torments them. Pushing them about with the bowl of the fork. Another stab gathers more produce, taunting them with their immediate future.
After a few more mouthfuls his fork accidentally stabs into the thigh of one of the Accents. He knew she wouldn’t be as wiggly to enjoy soon. One of the other Accents attempted to help her escape. Not that it stopped his fork from piercing the wounded one’s chest. Lifting the gurgling Accent. He hooks the toned legs in his mouth. It twitches as his teeth sever the legs from it. Jim hums happily. The dressing flavors the sweet meat perfectly. Fresh Accents wonderfully aren’t fully formed, making the bones a wonderful soft crunch. The semi-gel like flesh keeps the blood from messing up his salad. Another bite ends the accents trembling as only her shoulders and head remain. As he eats the last part of her, Jim is back to tormenting the remaining Accents, now with blood tinted tongs.
He sips his tea, wonderful. The accent snivels as it’s bound arms are pulled on by gravity. Those bound limbs are the only thing keeping her from slipping into his hungry mouth. Refreshing the cup to her dismay.
Back to gathering salad. He plans on savoring the accents after the vegetables and such are being digested. Making a bed for them to meet their end in.
A shoulder wound marks another one for an early devouring. She wonderfully pleads as the fork is aimed at her midsection. He was again glad he picked non-English speakers. Not knowing her words gave her an even more less than human effect. Besides that pretty face, understandably begging in accented English might have brought her to his home collection.
His fork entered it’s stomach. As he lifts her, her little hands try to ease the strain on its stomach. Making it winch in pain as strain is added to her wounded shoulder. He flicks her little feet with his tongue. Lifting her slightly, then allowing her weight to rest on the fork again. Gaining a gasped acknowledgement of pain. Legs again are the first to be removed. Jim was reminded why legs were his favorite part of an Accent to eat. Nice ratio of meat to bones. His next bite ends it’s pain. Shoulders, arms, and head are taken into his mouth. Crunching the skull in full view of the remaining six accents, savoring their reactions more than the mouthful itself. He cleans the last of it from the fork, washing his mouth with more tea.
Slowly, more carefully he removes the salad remains from the bowl. Pushing the Accents about so not to pierce one by accident. Blathering and tears let him enjoy the fact they know what he’s planning. Delighting Jim to no end. Washed down with warm tea and the music of a yipping trapped treat in his cup.
Jim puts down his fork. He reaches in and nabs one of the Accents. He smiles as it squirms in his hold. Holding it horizontal he pushes it deep into his mouth. It’s little head and flailing hands are traps just outside his lips. His tongue takes liberties. Swiping along it’s slender body. Pressing at it’s little breasts. The dressing popped off it’s smooth skin. He suckled on it, relishing the mix of flavors. Once that is washed off he bowls his tongue and tilts his head slightly up. A simple quick-sucking action gains a scream from the Accent that disappears down his throat. Its little form wiggles as it travels his esophagus. Cherishing the helpless struggling sensations.
He lifts the next one by one leg. It writhes about like a trapped mouse. Lifting it up over his wide open mouth. Dropping it into his maw and trapping it inside. No slow sucking upon this one. Teeth tear through flesh and crush bones. The dressing blended with its flavors enticingly. He slows his chewing so the tastes will linger longer. Swallowing the meat paste then sighs.
He grabs the next lucky morsel. Half way in this time. She looks about clearly expecting him to sever her in half. He starts taunting the remaining three with the fork again. His tongue splits the orally trapped one’s legs. The tip presses the bare little slit. His soft candy begins making confused sounds. Fearful but aroused, unwanted touch that forced it to experience intense pleasure. Jim was elated by how Accents just could not resist getting their little cunts lapped. Charmed to climax despite all the likely outcomes. And just as it hits its peak, he sucks her down his throat. The confused moaning yelp made her even sweeter.
He stabbed the calves of one of the remaining accents. Dragging it along the bottom of the bowl to collect dressing and salad bits. It flipped back and forth as it dangled on his fork. That flipping ended with his teeth crushing through her torso. Taking bites from her remaining body as he decides which one to devour next.
Choice made. He pressed it along his bowl with his fingers. Mopping up as much of the extras with the little pleading body. Head first into his mouth. Lips trap her ankles. Little feet tickle his lips as they squirmed just outside his mouth. Better was the little hands attempting to push it away from the back of his mouth. The deep dark pit that would be it’s destination. First however, that dressing skin treat would be sucked clean. Tongue making sure no detail is still glazed in the sesame liquid. His morsel grinds in reaction to the tip of his tongue cleaning it’s tight pussy. Nipples pop out from warm budded mass massaging the minor mounds. Sucking her down he feels little hands press against the slides of the tunnel down his neck. Her efforts made her swallowing that much more enjoyable.
He sips the cup of the remaining tea. He plops the last salad accent into the cup as he unbound the arms of the tea treat. Lifting them both to his lips. Tilting the porcelain container. Their combined weight countered any attempts to hang onto the edge of the cup. Two were trapped together. Coiled about like lovers in cozy tight quarters. They writhed about like they were pleasing each other when in reality they were struggling against the other to be the one to escape his mouth.
Jim filled the cup with the last of the tea. It took him a while to be able to do this. It was such an emotional rush, an intense show of power over Accents. Tilting his head up, he swallows the rivals together. Their slender forms writhe about as they are devoured. As much as he enjoyed the idea and act, the aftermath was uncomfortable. Like swallowing a large pill without enough fluid. Tea helped, but he sat a bit to allow the pressure in his chest to pass.
Debra approached, “Anything else Mr. Hathaway?” She knew him well enough to allow him to savor his meal without interruption.
“Just a bill and my Accent list.” he requests.
“But, you ate them all.” she unnecessarily points out.
“Yes, but I will likely want to order those ones again. Thanks.” he explains.
“Yes sir.” she accepted. Returning quickly with those requested items.
Jim slowly empties his cup. Allowing the wiggling to ease in his stomach. The fluids and gasses within ending the struggles of the ones swallowed alive. Leaving him feeling happily full. Up to the bar he pays and heads up to his office. Glad his friend would soon be part of his organization.
A simple and cheep key lock would have saved that owner their car, collection, and retaliation from other shrinkers. If you keep them that size that friction hook on your cage won’t hold them in. sigh Guess their going from owner to pet for this failing.
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Edited to make it easier to read. Thanks Thumbloverver2 for letting me know how to fix that.
@thumbloverver2 Thanks, I’ll try that.
Every paragraph, one by one. sigh