Honestly? For awhile, at least, I’d install myself as a evil thing to appease/protector/patron god, get a system set up where tithes (including, of course, women) are sent to me on a regular basis, my basic needs are met (a home of some sort, furniture, whatever food I’d need, if I needed food) and just… chill. Have fun with shit; have the women read to me, dance for me, whatever.

Stomp an enemy army if it rolls around, have fun toying with any knights that get ideas, tame a dragon or something…

I’m pretty low key, and actually ruling something sounds like a pain in the ass. As long as I get mine, I’d be good.

If I had to choose one size, it’d be… somewhere between three to six inches, ish. Small enough that they can’t really interact with anything, while big enough to interact with.

That said, what I like can depend on my mood, the day, and what I’m looking for; there’s a certain level of cuddle based softness that can only come when you aren’t in danger of accidentally obliterating your partner by existing, but there’s plenty of times I want that to be the case, or to be a landscape for them to be trapped on. Hell, even a proper half sized has its perks, with a SW struggling to live a normal life, and often failing…

Not too long after she calmed down, I moved my freer hand as stealthy as I could towards my pocket. Still, it didn’t get far before Miranda’s head popped up to look at me.

“I still want that pizza.” I said apologetically, and she laughed for a moment while I dug out my phone. Before I could dial, however, she interrupted me.

“Wait!” When I paused, she continued, faster than before. “Before the pizza gets here… Could I- I mean, will you let me, look around the house?”

Miranda showed me a pleading face that should have been classified as a war crime.

“Please?”

I sighed. “Fine.”

Before I could add anything else, she had slipped out of my loosened hold and darted out into the rest of my house, and I had to admit it hurt a little, how eager she was to get away from me. I wasn’t surprised, all things considered, but it still hurt.

That said, once the pizza came she’d probably come running back, which would be a treat in and of itself. Just imaging her tugging at my jeans, looking up at with that same pleading face… I grinned briefly before placing my order.

This, however, led into a problem: it would be a half hour, maybe more, before the pizza came. A whole half hour, in which I would have to entertain myself. In theory, it should be simple. In practice? I had spent all this time with Miranda, playing with Miranda, at times just short of having my way with Miranda, and shifting gears from that to something more lowkey would be… difficult.

Normally, I’d read a book, or watch something on Netflix, but I knew at the moment I wasn’t in the right mindset; I’d be so distracted by my dreams for the near future that whatever I tried to watch or read would just slip past me. Eventually, I pulled out my laptop and went to the table: when I was doing my earlier research, I had saw something that had caught my eye, and it had never quite slipped my mind. Before, I thought it hadn’t been a great fit for me.

Now, though. Now I wondered.

I was several tabs deep into testimonials and explanations when I was interrupted.

“Umm.” It was a soft, quiet voice I had never heard before, and almost unbelievably timid. “Excuse me, sir?”

It was also… behind my laptop? I leant to side and saw Brunette standing on the table in front of me, quivering, but still forcing herself to stand straight. Blonde cowered behind her, less brave, but still on the table nevertheless.

Huh. I didn’t expect to see them again until at least a week from now.

It took me a little while to realize the reason she wasn’t talking wasn’t her fear, but that she was waiting for me to give her permission to continue.

“Yes?” I wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but I was more than a little curious.

“Y-you told Miranda that you were going to share the pizza with us, right? I-”, she paused, and stepped aside enough so that Blonde was no longer ‘hid’ behind her body, “We, would like to thank you. For more than just the food.”

Then both of them curtseyed deeply, which was lewder than I would have thought, naked: bent over, and their arms spread wide, they let their chests hang freely, while, especially from my perspective, their rears were basically being displayed for my inspection. Then they held the pose as Brunette continued. “I know you’re not doing it for us-”

Fair. I’d been pretty clear on my motivations thus far.

“-But even so, all of this, all the things you’ve done for us, even if it was just an afterthought… it’s more than we could have ever expected.”

She stopped, but the two of them stayed in curtsy, and I had the feel it was less of an ending point and more that she needed to gather her courage. I didn’t hear her take a deep breath, but I gathered as much by the heave of her delightful breasts.

“If you would excuse our rudeness, we would like to beg a favor from you, sir.”

Ah. The meat of the matter. I nodded, because it seemed appropriate, and even though she was looking down at the table top, Brunette continued.

“When the time comes… be gentle with us. Please.” She was, I realized, pleading now, all the dignity in her voice gone, leaving only desperation. “Please. Sir-”

She stopped abruptly. “Master,” she said instead, and the way she said the word, not grudgingly, or resentfully, but fearful and reverent all at once, sent a thrill through me.

Blonde, I noticed, was trembling, even worse than before, and I swore I saw something fall from her downturned face.

“Master, we are weak. So very, very weak. If you are not careful, we will break. Even if you don’t mean to hurt us, we will be shattered by your most simple, unrestrained touch.”

Their curtsies deepened, to the point where their faces nearly touched the table.

“We will do whatever you say, Master. Whatever you say. We will be loyal, Master, and dutiful to you and your desires. So please, we beg you Master: When the time comes, please have mercy upon us.”

Brunette didn’t say anything after that, and the two of them continued to hold in place, shaking. After a minute I extended my index finger towards them, and as its shadow fell over her, Brunette flinched, but still did not move.

When it went over her, only to descend in front of Blonde, she jerked away with a scream, before abruptly kneeling, face flat onto the table. Faintly, I heard something that could have been her whimpering, or could have been my imagination.

I ignored her, though, and instead dabbed at the spot just in front of where she had stood, before rubbing that fingertip against my thumb. For an instant, before the friction burnt it away, I felt the slightest hint of wet.

I wasn’t lying, before; I honestly had no plans for them, beyond keeping them alive and relatively well cared for as a favor for Miranda, but… they were tempting. More tempting, really, than I wanted to admit.

My lust for Miranda had been constant. I wanted her. I had always wanted her, and just because I could hold her in my hand now didn’t change that basic fact of myself. It was, if I focused on it, creepy, but it was also… pure, almost. Loyal, in a weird way.

This, however, was different. Baser. I didn’t want them because they were my long denied crush; I wanted them because they were sexy, and small, and obedient. And scared.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I said vaguely, more out of a feeling of obligation than as an actual response.

Some of the tension left them, but they didn’t move from their places on the table.

“You can go.” I added awkwardly, and at that they both got up at last, and ran off before I could change my mind.

---

Man. You wouldn’t think ordering a pizza would be that hard for me to write. Weirdly enough, though, that gave me more problems than the rest of this story combined.

I’m… most unsatisfied with how that ended up, which is why it took longer than I wanted to get this out, but I just needed to do it, otherwise I’d never would. I’m pretty sure I’ve had stories die just because I was stuck on some stupid little thing like this, and I don’t want to do that again; I’m not even at a good part yet!

That said, I derailed a bit again from where I had planned; my initial layout had the two them not be much of a factor until later. Still, this isn’t bad, I think; I have a lot of dynamics happening in this story that I want to let play out, and bunch of behind the scenes stuff I’m still trying to introduce organically. A bit of divergence is to be expected.

I’m not sure how long this burst of writing will last, but hell, as long as it’s there, I might as keep on 'till I crash, right?

---

The two of them left me with lingering doubts, and the nagging certainty that, if I was going to actully interact with them in any meaningful way, I should probably learn their actual names.

Thankfully, before too long the pizza arrived.

When Miranda first contacted me, I was given a list of requirements I would need to meet, if I was to stake my claim on her, or any other Min for that matter. Most were simple, logical things, like being a legal adult, or being Changed, that I met without issue. There was one, however, that was a bit more dramatic: any door that I could expect to have people walk up to needed a second door built in front of or behind it, to keep anyone who knocked on my door safe from harm by the Mins I kept inside.

It was, like almost everything else involved in the process, subject to incentives by the government in their efforts to get as many Mins off their hands as possible, so I barely had to pay a thing to have it done. I had a hallway I could easily convert, as well, and the process itself had taken less than a week to complete. Honestly, compared to some of the stories I’d seen online, the entire process had been virtually painless.

That said, there’s an indescribable frustration that comes from having to deal with the world’s shittiest air lock just to get a pizza.

I wasn’t terribly concerned about an escape attempt, but before I opened the inner door I glanced over my shoulder anyways. Blonde and Brunette, unsurprisingly, were nowhere in sight. Miranda, on the other hand, had appeared near the couch at some point and was eying the door greedily. When she saw me focus on her, she stepped back and raised her hands into the air in an universal signal of ‘Don’t mind me’.

I snorted, then went through the first door. Closing it behind me, I opened the second, to see a man waiting for me, boxes in hand. He was Changed, of course, bearing a crest of pure white feathers instead of hair; in an age where delivery could be life threatening, those who could weather the danger without issue were unsurprisingly in high demand, if only to insure that orders would continue to be delivered in a timely manner.

He was also one of the drivers I usually got at this time of night, and noticing the changes, he eyed the door behind me knowingly for a moment, giving me an approving grin before handing my order over. Thankfully, he wasn’t one for talking, and he restrained himself from any comments beyond the usual formalities.

Passing through my ‘airlock’, I returned to see Miranda had abandoned the couch to stand by the table instead, impatiently waiting for me to bring the food over.

Just to irritate her, I took my time on the walk back, and every exaggerated step I took filled her tiny face with an adorable rage. By the time I set the boxes down, she was full out pouting.

More interestingly, near the edge of the table I found Brunette and Blonde, not hiding, but not drawing attention to themselves, either. The two of them were what I could only call standing at attention… or, perhaps, standing for inspection. With their arms folded behind their backs, chests thrown out, heads submissively tilted down, they made quite the sight; even more so, when the impact of the boxes hitting the table shook them enough for them both to fall on their asses.

I watched them stand up shakily as, in my mind, my picture of the life of a Min in a Kennel adjusted dramatically. Turning, I saw Miranda fixing me with a dramatic glare again, for the first time in… hours. It almost felt nostalgic with how dramatically our relationship had shifted, even it was just earlier today that she had been acting as high and mighty as ever.

Ignoring her, I gathered several paper plates from a cabinet before returning to the table and taking a seat, noting with amusement how even that caused the smaller Mins to sway slightly. Brushing the smaller box to the side for the moment, I opened the box and took out a slice of pizza and set it on a plate.

Holding it in the air, I knew I had the absolute attention of everyone in the room, with each and every little head locked onto the plate with wondering expression. Teasingly, I moved it closer to Miranda, watching her start to reach out… before dropping it in front of Brunette and Blonde, who were so startled by this that they both fell onto the pizza. They leapt off, stained with grease and sauce and stammering apologies, but I just repeated the process of readying another plate.

This time, when it hovered in front of her face, Miranda kept her control for all of ten seconds before reaching out with eager hands to grab something that probably weighted more than she did.

Unfortunately for her, we still had some more to do.

“Before we start, Miranda, I think we should do something.”

She froze, looking guilty, before switching to a look of suspicion.

I didn’t give her a chance to speak, though.

“If we’re all going to be living together, shouldn’t you introduce me to your friends?” I gestured with one hand towards the other Mins, who at this point were doing their best to look even smaller than usual. “It’s just good manners, right?”

She scowled, clearly conflicted over whether to humor even that much from me or not. Thankfully, Brunette decided to make her move then, inching forward before dipping into another one of those unexpectedly erotic curtseys.

“Si-Master,” she began, “I’m terribly sorry that didn’t introduce ourselves to you before.”

Miranda’s glare only grew, but she didn’t try to stop her friend from speaking, not that I would have let her; the more the little Mins did… anything, really, the more fascinating I found them.

For her part, Brunette eyed Miranda warily for a moment, but then compared her to me before prioritized which whims she should obey.

She curtseyed again. “My name, Master, is Amber, and behind me is my friend Mia.”

True enough, the newly named Mia had also lowered into a courtesy of her own, before the two of them rose with a level of synchronization that spoke of long practice.

Amber continued. “We would like to thank you for your generosity in taking us into your home.”

I faced Miranda very deliberately as I answered. “Why thank you, Amber, that is very kind. You and your friend are welcome to eat, if you want.”

It filled me with great pleasure to see her face flush red with anger, tiny little fists clenching and unclenching as tried to hold her temper and resist the urge to attack someone who could easily back hand her off the table.

It was even more amusing to toss the second place in front of her and watch her startle in response, her rage quickly forgotten in the face of the sheer volume of food I had presented her.

Dinner, as it turned out, also came with a show: watching the rest of the diners eat.

Amber and Mia, hopeless outmatched by their slice, didn’t even try to move it, instead resorting simply chewing bits of it off the, to them, enormous slab of food, crawling upon it to gain a bit of the sausage, then to another area for sauce or cheese and so on. As they did so, I could help but notice that their already dirty bodies became more and more stained. It wasn’t mud wrestling, to be sure, but watching them get covered in an edible coating seemed to hold a special allure all it’s own.

Miranda, on the other hand, was in an awkward place where she could manage her food, but only barely; she’d raise the tip of it to her mouth, like she would have when she normally ate a pizza before she Min’d, only for the weight of it to overwhelm her and fall down on her body, forcing her onto the giving surface of the plate. It was too light to hurt her, thankfully, but she grew more and more frustrated as she had to fight her meal off her body, and grew more than a little dirty herself in the process.

I watched them, blatantly, as I finished my first slice, and moved on to my second, gaining Miranda’s glares and two nervous stares in the process, before I decided to make my move.

Even with all three of them watching, I was just so big that, when I was this close, none of them could effectively watch all of me at once. Distracted as they were by the food, my hand’s movements went unnoticed until it pinched Miranda around the waist and drew her up into the air.

Miranda flailed wildly in my grasp as below her, Amber and Mia stopped eating and started cowering behind the edge of their pizza, trying to avoid attention.

“Ian!” Miranda snarled. “Ian, what the hell are you doing? I’m trying to eat!”

I smiled. “I know you are, Miranda, but you’re making such a mess.”

Carefully, I grabbed first one arm, and then the other, pulled them behind her back, and pinned them under the hand still holding her in the air, in the process forcing her to thrust her still impressive chest forward.

“So beautiful, Miranda… but so dirty.”

I licked my lips as I stared at her, my eyes tracing the patterns formed of sauce and bits of cheese all over her, following them until one ended on her breast, just short of the nipple.

I couldn’t help notice how it seemed to rise almost proudly in the air.

“Why don’t I help you clean up?”

I moved her forward and started licking a clean path upon the delectable surface of her flesh.

From her knee, my tongue rose steadily up her leg, tracing an curved line as I resisted the urge to simply close my mouth around it’s firmness, instead proceeding up her side, before veering onto her stomach. The tip of it danced around her belly button for a moment as I enjoyed finally having my way with the very thing that had caught my eye from the beginning, flattening down to take in as much sensation as possible, before probing at the tiny dips and arcs formed by bone and muscle with careful precision.

It was only as my tongue rose to her breast, curling to cup it its bounty, that I realized that Miranda was screaming.

It wasn’t in anger, like I would have expected, or even in excitement, as I would have hoped, but in fear, real genuine fear, as if I was going to bite down on her at any time now.

For a second, for a long, long second, I almost kept going.

It would have been easy; even though she was fighting me, madly, desperately, her arms didn’t so much as budge from my grip, and the tiny thuds of her bare feet against my chest were a meaningless sensation I barely noticed.

Miranda was here, helpless in my grasp, exactly as she knew she would be, exactly as she had all but asked me to. Everything I wanted was, quite literally, at hand, and all I had to do was take it.

It was perhaps one of the greatest acts of will in my life to stopping.

This time I was the one glaring, looming over her with my hand tightening ever so slightly around her arms and waist.

“Miranda”, I said, my voice carefully blank, “What the fuck.”

There were no words, just screaming and crying, noises as mindless as the way she still fight blindly against me. The defiance had been fun, but I wasn’t in the mood anymore.

“Enough.” I snarled.

That one word was loud, louder than I had been the entire time, and from all of a foot from her face. Miranda froze, mouth open and tears streaming from her face as she stared at me, and for a long minute, no one spoke.

“No…” she cried. “No… please, Ian, no. Don’t hurt me, please, Ian no, don’t-”

I shook her roughly.

“Miranda,” I begin, “What in the hell made you think I was going to hurt you?”

Shaking her head, she refused to speak, simply making quiet moaning sounds. I sighed, and placed her on the table, careful not to hurt her, and left my hand on top of her body, still holding her in place.

Face down into the wood, if she was still talking, I couldn’t hear her from up here.

I gathered my thoughts, tapping my fingers irritably against the table, and back, as I tried to articulate anything more that frustrated rage.

“Miranda,” I said finally, “You told me that I could have you. That I could have you, willing. You would do anything, everything, and in return, your friends would be untouched. That was the deal.”

My free hand gestured wildly in the air as I continued, not that she could see it from her spot on the table. “It’s not like I asked you to do a pole dance or something, I mean… fuck, Miranda! This was supposed to be fun, and for you, too! I was going to make you cum!”

Beneath my hand, she laid motionless. Grabbing her arms again, I levered her up onto her knees, so she could see Amber and Mia, still huddled behind their pizza, helplessly watching this drama of giants play out.

I sighed. “Let me make you a deal, Miranda. As of now you are, effectively, in breach of the only real restraint you have on my behavior, on your guarantee of any treatment as a human being instead of a Min. I’m going to give you three options, now.”

I reached out and grabbed the slice the Mins were sheltering behind, placing it back in the box as they panicked, exposed. I watched, out of the corner of my eye, as they visibly considered running before giving up on the option as hopeless, instead choosing to stay and face their fate head on.

“The first option is… you keep doing this. You give up, on the first day no less, and thus tell me that I can do whatever I want to all of you. You won’t participate in the fun as much as I would of liked, but… you’re clearly not doing that anyways. What do I have to lose?”

I let go of her arms, and Miranda caught herself on her hands and knees instead of falling flat on her face, which was a promising sign.

“The second option is we try it again. I lick you, and lick you, and keep doing it until you are completely clean. And yes, I will go places you don’t want me to, but if you so much as protest? Option two is done.”

I paused, before reaching down with one finger and ever so gently lifted her head until it once again faced her friends.

“The third option,” I began, “is that I don’t do anything at all. Instead, you do. You walk over there, you pick up Amber and Mia, and you do everything to them that I was going to do to you. Everything. I will not so much as touch them, or you, but if we go this route, Miranda, I expect them to be spotless by the time we’re done, and preferably having orgasimed at least once. And if if they ask you to stop? If they cry? If they beg and plead?”

I leaned in and whispered into her ear. “I damn well expect you to keep going anyways.”

---

Well. That escalated quickly. You know Ghostbusters, at the end of the movie on the roof, where they have to make a choice?

Choose the form of your destructor, Miranda.

Also, that feeling when you have to look back to figure out WTF your characters are actually named.

I like bondage, vore, and… I guess I would call it ‘depersonalization’? I’m not sure what the word for it is, because there’s probably a word for it.

Bondage is fun, because you can wrap a woman up like a present, helpless and exposed, and the way things can dig into exciting places is all sorts of fun.

Vore, to me, is… something like a primal display of power, I guess. (Also, I like eating, so there’s that.) Eating something is a proof of superiority over them, to me. The fact that the tongue is innate considered sexual for so many things is also a factor; it adds an edge of uncertainty for those involved. Are they going to be ‘eaten’? Or eaten?

As for the last, it’s something I generally only see in giantess stories, but obviously still want in SW contexts; the idea of the sheer irrelevance of the tiny. Like, if you walk down the street, and step on a tiny? No one cares. If you pick one up, take them home, and do whatever? No one cares. If you just scoop up your girlfriend of several years, dip her in some sauce, and dump her in your mouth? Well, she was a tiny. Crush, in general, seems to be a part of this, for me, but only as part; I like the casualness of the crush, and not the entire setting of the foot and such, per say.

As a community, I notice we seem to treasure the smalls more than the other end of the spectrum… and don’t get me wrong, I get that. In a more realistic setting, I wouldn’t do a lot of the shit I like. But as fantasy…

Also, begging. Begging is fun.

has put stupid amounts of time into this line of thought

For me, the ideal SW dollhouse is designed around the comfort of the woman inside… but the ease of access of the man who owns it.

It has all the amenities: water, lights, a bed that’s actully fabric and not plastic, but… there’s no doors, anywhere. There are window, but they don’t open, and are made of tough plastic or whatnot that can’t be broken by such little hands. Once you’re inside the dollhouse, you don’t get to leave without the owner’s permission.

At least one wall, if not the whole thing, is effectively a one way mirror (…somehow), allowing the woman(or women) inside the illusion of privacy, that all they have to do is dodge the windows and the skylight and whatnot and they will be hidden… when they really, really aren’t.

And, of course, the fact it opens: the entire thing is designed with a removable roof and with each wall being on a hinge, to allow for those outside it to easier reach those within.

“Alright, ladies,” I announced, only slightly raising my voice, “We’re here.”

Carefully, I lifted the carrier- while I didn’t mind if they were jostled around in there, it would be all too easy to swing it around a little too much on accident and actually do them real damage- and set it on the table, before unceremoniously opening the door.

A beat passed without any movement from within before I spoke up again. Louder. “Everybody out.”

It didn’t take a genius to realize that to a Min even words spoken at a normal volume was very loud to them, though they had undoubtedly grown accustomed to it. Anything beyond that had to be reaching levels that was painful, however; earlier, the box itself had protected them. With it open, that protection was gone.

This time there was an immediate and gratifying sense of movement from within, before two smaller figures almost ran out, stumbling on the transition from case floor to table top, before looking up at me, tense and afraid. When I did nothing to them they relaxed, slightly, and moved to the side, clearing the entrance for Miranda.

I took that time to actully look at them for the first time, examining the women I was now responsible for… for a given value of the word, anyways. I had no idea which was which, but once I did, it would be easy enough to tell them apart: one was blond, and one a brunette, her hair leaning redder than average. The Brunette was maybe an inch taller than her friend, which meant she loomed over her, comparatively, by a foot or more.

They were both naked, of course; clothing for a Min was expensive, and the government refused to splurge on such luxuries. Naked, and gorgeous, as all Mins were. The details were lost to me from my current prospective, but what I did see was enticing enough. The idea of simply picking one of them up and inspecting her was oh so tempting, but my deal with Miranda stipulated that they were free and clear, and I had every intention of keeping it: I valued her over them every time.

Besides, it was very likely that they would come to me, in time, for some small luxury or another and things could be renegotiated from there. While they were safe from my theoretical advances, they were trapped here in my home, isolated from the world, where almost everything was gigantic to them. The essentials of survival were mandated, but everything beyond a corner in which to sleep, food slop, and a bottle cap of water was something I chose to give them, and they knew it. Eventually, they would get bored, and even with each other and (when I could spare her) Miranda, they would get lonely.

It was simply a matter of patience, and I was willing to wait.

No matter how pretty they were though, at the end of the day they were just the extras, a fact I was of reminded of when the main event emerged. To her friends, the carrier had been enormous, easily large enough to fit dozens of Mins of their size without even feeling cramped. Miranda, on the other hand, was far larger than them. Small enough to fit, but too tall to even kneel, much less stand, and while seeing her rear sway ever so enticingly as she crawled into a cage at the office had been lovely, seeing her crawl out of it in my house was even better.

Still, despite everything, her size, her nudity, being forced to crawl on the ground like an animal, she kept her composure, and the same kind of distant contempt for my very existence was as clear in her gaze as it had been that first night.

I reached out and ran a finger slowly down her back, enjoying the feel of her bare skin against my fingertip, warm and smooth and oh so soft, as I traced the arc of her spine.

Miranda needed to realize it wasn’t that first night anymore.

She shuddered at the sensation of it, arching up into it for a moment before remembering herself and jerking away violently.

And this time, when she looked up at me, the blank mask was gone: fear, disgust and loathing filled her face, mingling with resigned acceptance at a simple fact: that this was just the beginning. I could do whatever I wanted to her, and she had all but asked me to. Still, the way she had leaned into my finger hinted that she had more hidden in her depths. Somewhere deep in the darkness lay secrets, tempting, tantalizing things that shone like jewels, and I knew suddenly that I wanted them, madly, desperately. I’d dredge those depths, and bring everything she hid into the light. I’d tear down her resistance, break down her walls, and I wouldn’t stop until she lay at my feet, helpless and bare in body and soul.

I swallowed back the maddening hunger that had risen inside me, and before she could get past her surprise, I turned my focus on her friends.

You had to take care of your chores before you could have your fun, after all.

“Alright, you two. I’m going to be honest here: I don’t care about you, either of you, but Miranda does, and so here we are. Let’s go over your situation, and then you can fuck off.”

I pointed down the hall.

“Over there is the family room, and on there is a table with a Min House, fully customized; running water, electricity, the works. It’s specced for up to ten at your size, so you should have plenty of room. Here,” My finger rapped on the table they stood on sharply, and I watched them jump at the sudden motion, “Is where I eat, when I can be bothered to sit at a table. I usually leave food here, and what I eat, you eat. I’d say meals are when I sit down here, but somehow I don’t think you’ll be interested in dining with me, so I’ll leave some in the House’s storage for after my meal, so you can just eat whenever.”

I paused and let that sink in before I continued.

“I’m not going to play house with you, and I’m not going to pick up after you. Once a week I’ll do basic maintenance, take out the garbage, fill the water tank and what not, but other than that how you take care of it is up to you. If something breaks? Let me know, I’ll have it fixed or replaced. If you let it get so disgusting in there that I smell it? Then I’m going to clean it, because I don’t want to put up with that shit.”

They backed away timidly as I leaned down towards them, until my face was less than a foot from their bodies, my impatience and irritation of having to deal with them when I wanted to deal with Miranda clear for them to see. “Believe me, you do not want me to have to clean up in there. I may just decide that the furnishings are trash, too. Or that maybe if you can’t take care of a house of your own, you should have a cage, instead.”

I eyed them, watched them tremble, hair blowing back and forth around their pale faces as I breathed. Hmm. Maybe I overdid it a little.

I straightened up and gestured towards a corner of the table, and the small protruding edge attached to it, making an effort to act calmer. “Anything that has a ladder like this, which, yes, includes the one with your Min House on it, is safe for you to explore; I will be careful around them. If you go up any other furniture, however, there’s no guarantee I might not drop a glass of water on your heads by accident. As a general statement, don’t go onto the chairs or my bed. Just… don’t. That’s mainly it. As long as I know you’re alive and nothing’s going wrong, I’ll leave you alone. If food is leaving the larder, maybe I see a glimpse of one of you around the corner? Everything’s great. If I don’t, though, I’m going to have to start looking for you, just to make sure you aren’t dead. Don’t make me do that, either.”

I tried to think of anything else I wanted to mention, any other concerns or warnings I should raise. It was hard to focus through my impatience, but I knew that I probably wouldn’t see either of them again for awhile, considering how I had handled this, and I didn’t want to have to bother with them later.

…

Fuck it.

Without warning, I swooped down and seized Miranda, and before she knew what was happening my hands latched around her torso like grasping talons, and I drew her close to me as I walked off. She thrashed briefly with an alarmed (adorable) squeak, but I just adjusted my hold, pinning her limbs in place with my arm while my free hand slide under her until I could feel her ass cupped in my palm. Once I had secured her, Miranda stopped resisting and curled up the best she could while restrained.

Cradling her carefully, I walked over to my chair in the family room and settled into it, leaning back and raising the foot rest. For a minute, I just held her to my chest as I thought about what to do next, before stretching out one leg, and bending up the the other slightly. Then, finally, I set Miranda down on the slope formed by my thigh.

She flailed as I released her, trying to get her balance, until she ended up leaning back against my leg, unintentionally giving me an excellent view of her body as she did so: warm skin without a blemish, flushed from her panic, long dark hair that reached down to her waist, long long legs I that I could easily hold in my hand. Miranda really was a thing of beauty. For a moment, she raised her arms to try and hide herself from me, to shield a modesty she seemed to so proudly deny having, but dropped them instead, either unwilling to appear off balance or show defiance she knew could be so easily crushed.

Miranda glared at me as I admired her, waiting for me to continue. I didn’t. A minute passed, then two, while I took in the magnificence of her body, and she grew more and more tense, bracing herself for an attack that refused to come.

Her nerve broke.

“Well?” She snapped.

I smiled. “Well what?”

She almost snarled. “Are you going to do it or not? Let’s get this over with, already!”

Part of me wanted to ask what ‘it’ was. I resisted the urge, and instead reached out my hand. She tried to crawl away, her belligerence giving way to fear, but I just brushed the back of a finger against her cheek.

“Oh, Miranda,” I whispered to her as she stared at me, wide eyed with confusion. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I reached out again, and felt the silky flow of her hair, rubbing the strands of it between finger and thumb before letting it go.

I remember, vaguely, reading something about training a horse, and how you had to get them accustomed to humans. The details were fuzzy, but the idea of it was pretty clear to me: you had to teach the animal not to be afraid of being touched. You started out small, petting their nose or something, and built up from there, until it was completely calm around you, no matter what you did around it, or to it.

In that spirit, I spent almost a half hour simply touching Miranda lightly: stroking her head, patting her hand, lifting her foot slightly in the air, bending an arm. Playing with her body, really. Never long, never in a way that was sexual, just consistent, steady contact.

Every time I reached out, she flinched away from me. Every time I touched her, pet her, toyed with her, she emerged unharmed.

Every time my hand approached, she flinched less and less as she grew used to the contact, slowly growing to trust that even if I could hurt her, I wasn’t going to.

Finally, she spoke, quietly. Her voice quavered. “Why?”

My hand moved towards her, and she didn’t flinch.

“Because, Miranda,” I said gently, “This isn’t going to be ‘over with’. This is just the beginning.”

And now we’re caught up. jazz hands
I’m probably going to have to go through later to put italics back in.

Man, this is the most writing I’ve done in years. I’m feeling all productive and crap.

---

Eventually, though, the time came that things would have to either escalate, or stop, and as much as I wanted to escalate things, we weren’t quite there yet.

Instead, I looked at Miranda and asked, “How do you feel about dinner and a movie?”

At her blank look, I elaborated. “I’m hungry and I’m not in the mood to cook at the moment. Why don’t I order a pizza or something? You and your friends can each have a slice, and we can watch something on TV. You can even help me pick it out, if you want.”

Hell, at this point, I’d watch the sappiest, most boring of chick flicks if it meant Miranda would willingly sit on my lap to watch it.

My mind must have wandered off, because when I refocused, I saw her expression had changed, the wary confusion of before replaced by… hope?

“Really?” she asked, her tone almost desperate.

I couldn’t help raising an eyebrow. “Miranda, pizza isn’t that expensive. A pie or two isn’t going to break the bank, you know.”

“No, I mean…” she trailed off, looking deliciously vulnerable and uncertain, before continuing. “You’ll give m- us some?”

Then I got it.

After I had received the offer from her, I had done some research into Mins and the lifestyle they could expect in government housing. It wasn’t pleasant. Food, among other things, provided in the cheapest possible way: a sort of nutritious food slop popularly marketed as ‘Min Chow’, and the only way the Mins could improve their lot is through the ‘generosity’ of the guards. Most likely, none of them had had any real food in months.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, to her anyways, I rolled my eyes. “Really, Miranda? Do you really think, what? I’m not going to feed you, or feed you slop?”

Judging by the look on her face, that wasn’t quite it, so I pressed on. “Or did you think I was going to make you beg for food? Or maybe for food for your friends?”

She winced, and I knew I had gotten it. Before she could say anything, I swept her up in hug, and against my chest, I could feel her form freeze in place.

“I told you already: I’m going to take care of you Miranda.” I tried not show how emotional I was, but I wasn’t sure how well I succeeded. “I’ll always take care of you, I promise you. I won’t say I won’t ever do something to you you won’t like, but I will never let you be hungry, or thirsty, or cold. You will always be safe, and you will always have a place to go, a place to sleep. And if you want me to take care of your friends as well? No problem. If you want me to pick up other people you met and take care of them as well? I can do that. If you want me to get someone you didn’t like, and destroy them for you, crush them, break them, destroy their hopes and dreams until they kiss your feet and beg you for mercy? I’ll do that too.”

She made a startled noise at that, but just held her tighter.

“Miranda, I-” I began, but the words wouldn’t come out, and not even I was sure what I wanted to say. Like you? Love you? Own you? Want to hold you close and never let you go? Want to make you scream in pleasure again and again and again until you can’t even think and you lie limp and trusting in my arms?

In the end, I didn’t say anything, just held her tight, and felt her gradually return the embrace the best she could, trying to reach me with arms that barely spanned the width of my chest. Eventually, she tapped up near my neck, and I reluctantly let her go.

Miranda looked up at me, then, and it was the first time I had ever seen her eyes filled with tears.

“Ian.” It was the first time she had said my name since she had shrunk. “Do you mean it?”

I smiled at her gently, and when I said, “Of course”, it was perhaps the most sincere thing I had ever said in my life.

“Ian-” she began, only to stop for a minute, trying to compose herself. “Ian, thank you. Thank you thank you thankyouthankyou-”

She hugged me, or tried to, again, and sobbed into me. “I’ve been so scared, Ian, I’ve been so scared, for so long. I was so small, all of a sudden, me and the others, and nobody would talk to me, nobody cared about me, nobody wanted me, and I just- I… I just don’t want to be scared anymore, or alone, or hungry, I-”

Miranda trailed off, and twisted in my embrace, reaching out for one of my hands. Obligingly, I moved it at her direction, and she brought it to her own chest and grabbed it, holding it to herself like I held her to me, squeezing it tightly, desperately as she cried.

I could feel the swell of her breasts against my palm, as she sat there, so very naked and vulnerable and Miranda. Still, I resisted the urge, and just let her sob as long as she wanted, my fingers holding on to her like arms.

---

This chapter is brought to you by: a random name generator, for men this time. Because I can’t name things for shit.

Also, honestly I wasn’t expecting this to go like this, but… shrug, I guess it did.

I feel like I kind of rushed the last couple of posts out just to post them, so I’m trying to take my time on this a bit more.

---

“Ow! Ian! What the hell?”, MIranda swore angrily.

Sprawled out in front of me, undignified and vulnerable, she still somehow managed to look indignant, even betrayed. As if everything that had happened, everything I had done, everything she had said, all of it had never happened.

I exhaled sharply.

It was the only warning she had before I pinned her to the table like an insect on display. There was a moment of surprise, then she began to struggle, but with my finger jammed into the small of her back, there was no way for her to reach me, no real form of meaningful resistance she could pose.

With a casual menace, I brought my other hand into her field of vision, slowly placing the tip of the index finger behind the thumb, before pulling it away to aim.

“I think, Miranda, that you just won’t understand. Not until you’re taught a lesson.”

Then I flicked my finger straight onto one of her ass cheeks.

She yelped, pushing momentarily harder against my hold until I lightly increased the pressure against her, forcing her down.

The next flick landed against the other cheek.

“Ian, I-”

The first cheek again.

“You need to-”

And then the second.

“Plea-”

First.

“No, I-”

Second.

“Wait!”

At that, I paused. After all of this, I had honestly forgotten the other Mins where there.

“Wait, please!” Amber continued, from her position near my elbow, a rather dangerous one for her to inhabit without me knowing.

After a moment of thought, I placed my hand flat onto the table.

“I’m listening.”

While I still didn’t care much about them, I had to admit the sheer… compliance of the smaller Mins had grown on me in the short time I had known them. Perhaps because of their size, they both seemed far more aware of the reality of their new lives, as well as willing to act accordingly, which was an attitude I was willing to support.

“Master,” And again with that word. Part of me wondered if Amber kept using it in an attempt to help warm me to her and her friend. If she was… it was probably working.

“I know you’re angry. But-” And her she paused for a moment, visibly gathering her courage, “I also know you don’t want to hurt her. Not really, anyways.”

I raised an eyebrow. Bold words… coming from her, anyways, who thus far had taken pains to not do anything I could possibly take as defiance.

“If you will allow it, Master, I have a suggestion.”

“Go on.” I prompted. If nothing else, anything to cause her to act so unusually should be interesting.

Amber curtseyed. “Thank you for your tolerance, Master. I suggest you let us talk to her. As you know, Miranda is stubborn. But I think that, if you just give us a little time, we should be able to talk her around to a more rational position.”

“Oh?”

Really, I had no reason to not let them try, but I was curious to hear her reasoning.

“Master, you knew Miranda from… before. And if I may, I believe those memories are stopping her from fully accepting her new position. Talking to you makes her remember who she was, stops her from moving on from her old life. We can approach her from a level she will be more understanding of.”

And here she gestured at Mia who had, at some point, crept up to Miranda, crouching down near her head from a careful distance.

“She’s only known the two of us since we Min’d,” Amber continued, but at that I stopped paying attention to her, mind whirling over this new revelation.

Miranda had told me, she had insisted, that she would only allow herself to be taken by me if I had also taken them, fought every step of the way to see to their needs, even beyond her own. I had thought they were friends she knew from before, and Miranda had just wanted to take them with her when she left, keep one more piece of nostalgia, even after her life had fallen apart.

If she only knew them after she Min’d, though, there’d be no reason for to be so determined to keep them happy at the cost of her own well being. Unless…

“…we can use our perspective-”

“Who was first.” I interrupted.

Amber blinked at my sudden velmence.

“Pardon me?” She asked warily.

“Who Min’d first?” I repeated, “One of you? Or was it…”

From below my finger, Miranda jerked, suddenly, fighting against my hold on her with renewed vigor. Even when that failed, she kept fighting, crying out furiously, desperate to free herself.

“Ah.” I said. “So it’s guilt, then.”

Guilt was her motivation to protect them, not friendship, or love, or to keep some semblance of her time before she had Min’d; she wanted to protect them so badly because what she had already done to them was already more than she could ever forgive herself for.

“…Yes, Master, I believe so.” Amber confirmed. Her tone was bland, and she was carefully staring off to the side, unwilling to meet my eyes.

“But that’s just why you need to do it!” Mia shouted suddenly.

I had never actully heard the little blonde speak before; she had a surprising set of lungs on her for someone her size. At her words, Miranda froze, staring at the woman in front of her with the rapt expression of a deer in the headlights, as if she was too frightened to look away.

“Do you think that doing this is going to change anything!? That throwing this little fit is actully going to help anyone?” She demanded.

“If you don’t do it, all that means is that someone else will. Make no mistake: this will happen. It always does, Miranda. And since there’s no one else around, that ‘someone’ will be him. Have you seen the size of his fingers? He’ll snap us like twigs and never even notice!”

Rude. Not entirely inaccurate, but rude all the same.

“And what happens if he gets angry? Not this mild frustration he has going, but actual, genuine anger? Who do you think he’ll take it out on? You? No matter how mad her gets, you’re his…” Mia trailed off, words failing her as gestured between the two of us, trying and failing to grasp the word to explain our relationship.

“-His obsession or something!” She burst out finally. “Oh, maybe he spanked you a little, but at the end of the day you know he’ll always leave you intact. Me, though? Amber? He barely even knows our names! Do you think he’d honestly care about breaking our legs if it made you regret acting up? You told us you’d protect us, but all you’re doing is trying to get us hurt!”

“Nooo…” Miranda whimpered quietly, tears falling from her eyes. “No, I wouldn’t, he won’t-”

“Stop!” Mia shouted, suddenly looking tired. “Just… stop, Miranda. Wake up and smell the Min Chow.”

She walked forward, falling to her knees in front of Miranda’s proportionally enormous head, hands settling next to each of her eyes.

“We’re Mins. We’re just… fancy pets, now, at best. We take what we can get and we’re thankful for it, because there’s worse, MIranda. There’s always worse. This… thing you have going on with Master? I don’t think you understand how good we have it, now: this is the best case scenario, here. All he does is play around with us, and we get food, water, safety; I mean, holy shit, we have a Min House! An actual Min House! He is spoiling you, Miranda. Everyone at the Kennel would kill to get this kind of treatment that you’re so determined to fuck up.”

Mia let go and stood up, walking a few steps away and gazed off into the rest of the house before she continued to speak, her hands clenched so tightly that the knuckles were tiny dots of white.

“If you really want to protect us, Miranda, then you have to be one to one to use us. Lick us, bite us, step on us; hell, stick us on your fingers like puppets, if you have to! Whatever it is, whatever he wants, just do it.”

It was a persuasive argument if I had ever heard one, and if it enough to finally enough to make Miranda engage? More than worth giving her one last chance.

No one moved as I lifted my finger off her back, everyone waiting to see what would happen next. I’m not even sure Amber breathed.

For a long moment Miranda lay there, her face a picture of indecision, before it firmed.

She lifted herself off the table, got back to her feet, and without saying anything reached forward toward Mia, standing in front of her with her back still turned.

---

Or, where I remind everyone that yes, Mia is actully a character.

And here. We. Go.

Might as well mention it: I’m pondering on an idea for a giant fic. It’s… hard to describe, but I could theoretically make up a first chapter whenever, though I feel like I don’t have a handle on it quite yet.

---

Whenever I grabbed Miranda, it was fast and merciless, like a predatory bird swooping down on its target, hands spread wide to seize and immobilize. Where I grabbed was always less important than the unstoppable nature of the act itself, that I could care her away safely secured in a matter of moments, far too late for her to respond.

In contrast, Miranda’s hand wrapped around Mia slowly, achingly so. Her fingers, millimeter by millimeter, reached the Min and passed her until the woman stood right next to her palm, giving her plenty of time to see them coming, to react. To run.

She didn’t.

Then, and only then, they began closing, finger by finger, from the pinkie at the bottom, which Mia could have potentially jumped over if she wanted to, until it reached the thumb that locked her in place.

As she was lifted into the air, Mia was still stiff and still, clearly forcing herself to be motionless as taken to her inevitable fate, refusing to let herself react in front of me… or maybe Miranda. Maybe both.

When her hand had reached her chest, Miranda lifted herself from her squat and turned to look at me, staring at my face for… affirmation? Signs of weakness? Approval?

Whatever she was seeking, I gave her nothing, and after a few seconds, she turned away without saying a word, towards the woman in her hands.

Then, with all the abruptness of someone chugging down a foul drink, Miranda brought Mia to her mouth and gave her a long lick up the back. In her hand, Mia shuddered, while Miranda looked…conflicted. Like she was coming to a realization she didn’t want to understand.

At my side, Amber made a small sound I couldn’t identify, but I ignored it, instead leaning in towards the scene in front of me until my breath ruffled both of their hair slightly.

Again, Miranda gave me a probing look, which I refused to acknowledge, just continuing to observe her carefully, before turning back to Mia.

A long moment passed where she considered the tiny form she held, seeming to plan her approach. This time, when her tongue emerged, it was deliberate: I could see that her first attempt had cleaned much of Mia’s back off, but it was hardly complete, but she seemed determined to complete it.

From just above the hip the tongue coiled, rising up and to the side, snaking around to the belly for an instant before returning and rising to the shoulder, then turning. Here it paused, writhing back and forth against Mia’s neck as she shuddered and moaned, seeming to draw circles against her dampened skin before resuming its downwards journey, coming to a stop just above the rear.

Here Miranda paused once more, retracting herself from her target, only to lash out at the miniscule ass, provoking a series of squeals from Mia and an exhale from me so strong it blew her hair sideways as it groped and slurped away around. She concluded with a careful nip, taking the entire lower torso in her mouth and closing on it slowly as Mia flailed helpless in her grasp, and I saw tongue dance between the little legs.

As she removed the woman from her mouth and held her out again, Miranda breathed out over the skin she had just tasted, provoking another shudder.

This time, the look she shot me was distinctly amused, and she kept holding it as she turned the Min she was holding until her front was presented.

“You know, Mia.” she began calmly, moving her gaze from her captor to her captive, “I’m only doing this because I have to, because you told me to.”

When she had confronted Miranda before, Mia had been angry, venting a frustration that had clearly lingered there for some time. But I didn’t forget how she had acted before that moment, and whatever confidence her fury had given her had departed the Min, drenched in drool and trapped in the hand of woman I could step on by accident. She shook, arms crossed over her breast and and legs curled up before her, watching her new tormentor with fearful eyes.

It made Miranda smile.

“Everything I’m doing to you now is for your sake, and nothing more.” She continued, lifting her hand, bringing the shaking woman to her mouth.

Miranda opened her mouth again, as if to keep talking. Instead, she leaned forward and took one of Mia’s tiny breasts into her mouth, ever so carefully grasping it with her teeth. She writhed in the ivory grip, making a noise that was either pain or pleasure or both, before Miranda’s lips closed around them as well.

Then she sucked, the gentle force of it still dragging Mia forward slightly before she was released.

“But do you know what?” Miranda asked, as if they were having a normal conversation. “This is actully kind of fun; being the one in control, I mean.”

The teeth closed upon the other breast more loosely than before, but that just made it easier for Miranda to drag their edges across its entire surface, opening just before the nipple to instead lash at it with her tongue.

“But don’t worry, I’m not going to make a habit out of this or anything.” She smiled mockingly at me. “Unless I’m told to, anyways.”

Adjusting Mia once again, Miranda brought her lower half to her mouth, drawing both of her legs into her mouth, carefully using her tongue to adjust their position until she was satisfied: spread wide, each lined over Miranda’s teeth. Then, gently, she closed her mouth, pinning Mia in place with her legs trapped in between Miranda’s teeth, as her tongue emerged to attack the new target that had been presented to it.

Mia made a sound, then, so filled with desire and need that my mouth went dry.

The longer this went on, the more Miranda settled into a rhythm, finding herself again in the masterful use of tooth, tongue, and lip, regaining the confidence she had lost and doning it anew like a crown. She held court on my table, naked, tiny, covered in pizza sauce and imperious all the same.

I’d never seen her so stunning, so erotic.

After a while she grew satisfied with the woman in her hand and stretched languorously, getting up and started to walk along the table and ignoring me to sit in front of the pizza box. Calmly, Miranda leaned back against it, stretching out a leg and propping an arm, holding a limp and panting Mia, regally on the other.

“Oh, Amber!” She called, looking at me with a wicked grin. “Would you be a dear and come see me, please?”

I heard a yip and looked down to see the woman in question staring at Miranda with awe-filled dread, legs pressed together tight and hands folded together in front of her crotch in a way that made her arms squeeze her breasts pleasingly. She seemed to be filled with guilt and desire all at once and entirely unsure of which to feel.

“Y-yes Ma’am!” she called. “I’m coming!”

I’m not sure Amber knew what she had called Miranda, though I could see her smirk grow a little larger in response.

The Min jogged forward forward obediently towards her, only stopping once she stood between her legs, arms folded behind her back. It was only then that Amber seemed realize where she was standing, and blushed as she tried to find a way to look at the ‘giantess’ in front of her that wouldn’t embarrass her more.

“Excellent.” Miranda purred, reaching down with her empty hand.

Instead of grabbing the little woman in front of her, however, she just held it out, palm down and somewhat flat.

“Now take a seat.”

Still blushing, Amber walked forward onto Miranda’s hand, standing awkwardly for a moment before kneeling down upon it. Gleefully, Miranda lifted her up to her face, examining her carefully before she began.

With Mia, she had been aggressive, almost violent at times, pinning her with teeth and throwing her around with tongue, always on the edge of causing actual harm but never quite crossing the line.

With Amber, she was gentle: it began with a kiss, Miranda’s lips taking up much of Amber’s face, backing away before gently brushing her with her tongue, wiping away any part of the meal that was left behind.

Gasping for breath, Amber could only watch as Miranda moved slowly down her body, always avoiding the more sensitive areas, each press of the lips leaving her cleaner and cleaner, yet ever more drenched with drool and stimulated by the careful ministrations of tongue.

Before long Miranda had reached the legs, and instead of kissing it, moved instead to a foot before opening her mouth wide. Slowly, teasingly, she moved Amber forwards, drawing her leg into her mouth where her tongue embraced it. It didn’t close once during the process, instead giving Amber, and me, a view of proceedings, lips carefully covering her teeth. Once it had entered as far as it could, and Miranda had lavished it with attention to her satisfaction, she removed the leg and repeated the process with the other.

Once both of the limbs had had her attention brought on them, Miranda disengaged and moved the now sodden woman back.

In her hand, Amber panted and moaned, glazed over eyes staring up with confusion. “Wh-why did you st-”

“Amber.” Miranda said seductively, causing to Min to shut her mouth so fast I was worried she’d hurt herself.

“Oh little Amber…” She continued, with the smug smile of a soon to be fed cat, “Would you hold out your hand for me?”

It took a minute to penetrate the haze she was in, but once she understood Amber held out her hand eagerly, like she was trying to reach the head that rose above her.

“Perfect.” Miranda murmured, before bending down to take her offering.

Amber’s arm fit into the mouth easily, and I could see it flex inside of the maw, reaching down to grab at the muscle that danced around it, flicking out with deliberate licks to tease at her body. When Miranda removed her, the fingers dug in, trying to take a hold, but all she got was an amused chuckle before the larger Min switched sides, moaning helplessly as she was so easily manipulated.

When Miranda let go of her other arm, there were only two places on Amber’s form left dry, two conspicuous places still colored red-orange as if they had been highlighted. Holding her away slightly, Miranda considered them carefully, a slight smile on her face as she picked her targets.

When she moved, it wasn’t with an open mouth, but with lips once again pursed for a kiss that embraced Amber’s chest as her lithe form gasped and arched upon its fleshy seat, tiny arms reaching out to try and hold the larger face in place before it retreated with a predatory smile, leaving it to lie bonelessly, arms and legs dangling off the edge.

“Amber…” Miranda cooed. In response, the form on her hand twitched, a head turning in her direction.

“Open up for me Amber.”

And with a almost soundless keen of need, she did, and once again Miranda took what she was offered.

I couldn’t see the details, but Miranda stayed there, mouth between two legs that did their best to hold onto a moving jaw far stronger than them, for longer than she had anywhere else. Eventually, Amber’s back arched one last time as she gave out a loud cry, and Miranda gently lowered her down to the table top, placing Mia next to her as she gave out a satisfied sigh.

For a few moments she watched them, a smiling fondly, before rising to her feet.

“So, Ian,” Miranda said as she approached coltishly, “I did just what you asked. How’d I do? Are you…” And here she grinned teasingly, “Satisfied with my performance?”

She startled a bit as I moved, but relaxed as my hand cupped her head, thumb stroking her hair gently.

“You did great, Miranda.” I said soothingly as she leaned in my touch with a pleased hum. “That was a wonderful job. You’re a good girl, such a good girl.”

She remained like that for a few seconds before my words penetrated her smug haze, jolting up with a start.

“I’m a wha-” Before she could get going, though, I swept her off my feet and tucked her into my arm.

“You know, Miranda… I didn’t just order pizza. I got a little something… special as well.”

She made a grumpy noise from near my chest, but I continued cheerfully as I reached for the smaller box I had set aside.

“Something to start off our first day together right, but I was starting to get worried for awhile there. You were misbehaving so badly I didn’t think you’d get any!”

Setting the box in front of me, I turned it so it faced in our direction, before opening it with a flourish.

“After all, Miranda, only compliance gets cookies.”

Not only did she perk up at that, further along the table I saw the two she had left behind start at my words, getting up so they could get a better look at what was happening.

The cookies the pizza place sold were subpar at best, but they were hot with melted chips, and so to the deprived Mins, the disk I held up in the air at that moment must have seemed ambrosial.

“Now, Mia, Amber, you two did marvelously, and kept it up no matter how certain other people,” there was another grumble from somewhere under me as I said that, which I ignored, “And that gives you the first cookie.”

Leaning over, I placed the dessert next to the pair, who stared at it with hungry eyes before glancing back up at me warily.

“Oh, don’t worry; by all means, indulge yourselves.” I said airly, waving them on with my hand, and they didn’t need any more encouragement to fall on the sweet voraciously, smearing dark streaks of chocolate all over their recently cleaned skin in the process.

Not that I minded.

“In fact, you did good enough for a cookie each!” I continued, taking another cookie. They backed away, eyes filled with fear and greed, and I didn’t disappoint them as I tossed it on top of the first one.

This time they didn’t wait before leaping on their new prize.

They really had earned it, and I definitely wanted to encourage such prompt and through obedience, so the overly generous award was a no brainer, even if they couldn’t finish the first one before it grew stale.

“As for you, Miranda… originally, you were going to get a cookie, until you started acting up, anyways.”

At that, there was an outraged howl, but I quickly pinned her to my chest with my arm before she could start thrashing.

“Thankfully, you managed to pull through at the last minute, and so you get…”

I trailed off as I held the next cookie high in the air, and in my arm Miranda settled as she started at it, enraptured as I slowly lowered it down.

“One half a cookie!” I announced, before taking a large bite out of it.

“What?!” Miranda screamed, as I brought the large crescent to her.

I tilted my head in mock confusion. “What? You only did well enough for half a cookie; I think I was pretty clear about that. In fact, it was only your impressive performance that got you this much. Unless…” I mused, bringing the treat farther away as I ‘thought’.

“Unless you don’t want the cookie?” She gaped adorably. “In that case, I guess I might as well eat it myself…”

Dramatically I lifted the item in question into the air and began to open my mouth widely, but Miranda’s frantic rebuttal stopped me from going any farther.

“Wait wait wait Ian it’s fine I wanthecookiegiveittomeeeee!!”

Her complaint turned into a squeal of joy as I handed it to her, wrapping the treat in her arms protectively around as she did so, and in the process making it seem like she was nothing more than a delectable treat herself.

She frowned at the smile that bloomed on my face, and turned herself away to begin to enjoy her own prize.

“One thing, Amber, Mia.” I began. The two Mins looked at each other warily, but didn’t move from their gigantic pile of sweets.

“No no,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Keep eating, I just want to… clear the air about something really quick.”

That got another glance traded between them, but they relaxed slightly, bring small handfuls of dough and chocolate to their mouths as they observed me.

“While I’m not going to promise you two much, I can assure you that I won’t do anything major to you… such as breaking your legs.”

Mia winced at that, but I continued without focusing on her reaction.

“I’m not going to give you platitudes; I’m not going to tell you it’s because ‘I’m a good guy’ or because ‘I wouldn’t do that’, because quite honestly those are stupid answers and I doubt that you’d believe me if I tried one. Instead, let me give you a practical answer: if I was ever to do that, this one here-”

I patted Miranda’s head from where she sulked in my lap.

“-Would never forgive me, and we all know I don’t want that. Moreover, as one of my main holds over her behavior, if she can no longer trust me to not hurt you, she would have far less reason to listen to me, which again I obviously want to avoid. Now, just so we’re clear: I’m not saying I’m not going to make things unpleasant for you, if need be. I can think of plenty of ways to make you two miserable and I will use them if I have to, but of the many things that are in danger here, your safety is not one of them.”

It wasn’t meant to be a motivational speech so much as a simple statement of facts, but still the two of them seemed oddly cheered by my announcement.

“Was there… anything else, Master?” Amber ventured cautiously.

“Nope.” I said, grabbing another cookie, for myself this time. “Go back to enjoying your reward.”

A pleased smile rose upon my face as they did just that.

---

So, it’s been awhile since I did anything close to a sex scene; years, in fact. I’d like to think that went well.

Fun fact: my crappy ass old computer shut down, as it does sometimes, and I almost lost this. All of this. If it wasn’t for that fact that this site saves drafts almost constantly, thank fuck, it would have been gone. I was at the last stages, doing little edits and what not, and I put so much work into doing this that losing it would have destroyed me, and I’m not sure I would have had the heart to try and redo it all again any time soon.

That was a close one, folks.

If we’re going the full gulliver spectrum here, then honestly it might not be a modern world as we know it. If they aren’t isolated in separate biomes, with species sized to match, then giants wouldn’t have the drive to invent a lot of things because they could so casually dominate the world, normal and tinies included, while tinies are just so ill equipped to survive in a world where everything their size hits so far above their weight class that it honestly would be a miracle that they’d survive: for humans to survive and prosper over nature, we need to band together, invent… things that would make them target for bigger creatures. A village of tinies might be able to repel mice, or even drive off cats with primitive chemical warfare, but the moment a normal person sees them, obvious targets, they’re screwed, and a giant would probably step on them by accident and not even notice.

Long term, the desire for an easier life and luxuries would push technology forward, but really the only way I could see such a society long term would be built around the giants, with normal sized humans as pets/slaves/workers, with tinies either clinging to life in the shadows or just being pets, like… an ant farm or something.

@nephilim
From what I know, you can’t attach a PDF, so yeah, you have to paste the text in. There’s a thread, though, where you can ask about general help/make suggestions for the site, so maybe you could bring it up there? I’m not an expert, but if there is a way to do it, that’s where you could find out.

Always nice to see more talent show up. Welcome!

Personally, I prefer if you posted it here, because while Elka has stuff that makes me come there… finding it is… frustrating, so more excuses to avoid it is fine with me. That said, I’m not going to complain if you just post a link instead.

As a ‘veteran’ author here… which… I guess I am, under that criteria? I’m not sure what I can bring up; all I got is that you can hit enter all you want, but it will only show about two lines or so on the actual version. Besides that, I agree that, even if you have a full story, it’d probably be much more readable if you posted it in chunks rather than all at once.

@inkchild
Thanks! That means a lot to me!

I hoping to have the next part out soon, but I’m having some block on what exactly happens next, which is holding up the works.

Well, that and I’m still having computer problems my computer died, but I’m working around that.

When I returned home, it was to the sight of all of my Mins waiting on the table patiently for me to return.

Or rather, Amber and Mia were waiting patiently as they knelt, still playing the role of the dutiful toys. Miranda, on the other hand, had apparently been pacing, and froze at my entrance, staring at me and the carrier I was holding with a frightening intensity.

Her gaze held until I approached the table and set Sydney’s carrier down with deliberate care, and at that instant it switch to focusing on the case entirely.

“I can’t believe it.” Miranda muttered, beginning to circle the case, “You actully did it.”

I ignored her appraisal and began to unlock the carrier’s door; at the sound of the latch Miranda startled, stepping back slightly before returning her gaze to me. Silently, I gestured in front of the door, so that she’d be the first thing Sydney saw when she exited into my house for the first time. Miranda made a face, but obediently stepped into place.

Getting Sydney, I knew, was something of a risk for Miranda long term; not matter how easy it was for me to overpower her, it would be almost as easy for Sydney to overpower Miranda in turn.

I wouldn’t let the Min hurt her, of course, but it wasn’t like I was going to be around to protect her 24/7, either. Locking her up when I left would help, but that wasn’t an ideal solution, since all I had to do was not be in the room at the time, or even looking, for her to be safe to act.

Therefore, I had to make sure that Sydney wouldn’t even dream of overstepping her privileges in my house, and a suitably impressive first meeting would help make that become a reality.

Quietly, I opened the door and let the new Min out; it took her a minute, since her fit in the carrier was worse than even Miranda’s had been, but she eventually managed to crawl her way out onto the table, only to presented with the sight of Miranda standing proudly before her, a hand on her hip, and a confident grin on her face.

“Hello, Sydney.”

There was a pause as the two of them stared at the other.

“Miranda?” Sydney said incredulously. “What the hell are you-”

She began to get up, but before she could get anywhere my hand closed around her head, and part of her shoulders, before slamming her down onto the table.

“Shut up.” I spat.

There was a brief struggle under my palm before she realized what had happened and gave up.

“I- I what’d I-” Sydney began, only to stop I tightened my grip on her skull.

I leaned down and hissed into her ear. “I said shut up. If you understand, then listen to me and stop making noises, am I clear?”

I waited, and she proceeded to to say anything, so I loosened my hold on her slightly.

“Good girl. Now, listen to me, I want to make something excruciatingly clear about your new situation. Are you ready?”

I let go of her head and she sighed with relief, only to freeze as I looped my finger through her long hair.

“First things first: on your knees.”

“But I-”

I lifted my finger, yanking her hair up and causing her to yelp. Sydney started to rise in an attempt to decrease the pain, but I flicked a finger from my free hand at the back of her leg, sending her back down to the table top.

“On your knees.”

At my snarl, she dropped so fast that I could hear the sound of her knees hitting the wood; wrenched up by her hair, the face that stared into mine had paled dramatically.

“Better.” At my calmer voice, Sydney relaxed infinitesimally.

“Your first lesson, apparently,” she flinched at the emphasis I put on the word, “Has to be this: disobedience will not be tolerated.”

I paused, giving her a chance to protest, argue, fight me: anything to give me another excuse to punish her again.

When she didn’t say anything, I smiled thinly. “So you can be taught. Good. As I was saying, I will not tolerate disobedience from you. You see, there’s a very simple hierarchy here, and as long as you follow it, your life can be pleasant. If you don’t…”

I trailed off leading, and she gulped, the movement of her throat easily noticed with how exposed it was.

“I am at the top of it, obviously. Next is Miranda.”

I relaxed the tension I was putting on her hair, allowing Sydney’s face to lower and face Miranda. Her cocky look had faded, to be replaced by an excited grin so wide it probably hurt.

“Then there’s Amber, and then Mia.” I assumed they had met at some point, considering their mutual history with Miranda, so I didn’t bother to point them out.

“And then there’s Daisy, that spider in the corner of the garage that has been living there for three months now.”

I heard a quiet snort in front of me at that, but I was focusing my attention on Sydney once more, watching her face drop the more I talked.

“And then there’s you, Sydney: the absolute bottom of the barrel. You may think you’re big, but in this house you are nothing, just a bug so pathetic that even one of them,” I gestured condescendingly at the corner of the table where Amber and Mia were staring wide eyed at the proceedings, “Could step on you and not even notice: that is how little you mean to me. If you hurt one of them? I will be very annoyed with you. If I hear you so much as look at Miranda wrong I will be absolutely livid.”

I yanked her hair back again, and she squealed in pain, straightening as much as she dared but staying on her knees.

“You never asked why I picked you, Sydney.” And by now she must have been regretting that oversight, but it was far too late for that. “I think it’s time I tell you your new role here.”

I pulled my finger back another inch, before relenting and releasing the pressure, allowing her to relax with a relieved sigh.

“I picked you out as a toy, Sydney, but not for me. You’re a present.”

Deliberately, I pointed forward towards Miranda.

“Do you see her there, in front of you? I may own her, but she owns you. Miranda is the one that will determine how you will be treated, whether you get food with the rest of them or slop, if you get locked up or get to roam free, if you are rewarded or punished. Do you understand me?”

Sydney nodded as much as she could against my grip on her hair, tears leaking down her cheeks.

“That’s not enough, I want you to say it. Let your new owner hear you say you understand what your role is now.”

I released her hair completely and removed my hand, leaving the two of them alone at the center of the table.

“I- I understand, Master,” Sydney whimpered, looking up my face and shuddering before turning back to face in front once again, head bowed. “I… I am jus-”

“No.” Miranda interrupted. “Not like that, Sydney.”

The large Min’s head rose, allowing her to take in the ecstatic expression her new tormentor wore.

“All the way down, Sydney.” Miranda crooned. “I want you all the way down.”

She made a wordless mewl of terror before complying, kneeling deeply until her head hit the wood.

Miranda stalked forward until she stood just in front of the other woman. She took in the sight of her, the way her body trembled, and what I thought were quiet, muffled sobs, and then sighed in contentment as she turned and sat on Sydney’s head.

She jerked at that, jostling Miranda causing her to frown, reaching down to yank at a handful of hair.

“Don’t do that.” She scolded angrily. “If I’m using you as my seat, then you better not move.”

Moving back until she straddled Sydney’s neck, Miranda grabbed another clump of hair, pulling them both as if to test their strength. Beneath her, Sydney flinched but didn’t move, and Miranda nodded to herself.

Then she began to grind her crotch against her new mount, yanking at the ‘reins’ in her hands as her back arched, causing a squeak of pain before Miranda relaxed with a satisfied sigh.

“Oh, this is nice. Now, Sydney: don’t you have something to say?”

“Y-yes.” The Min whimpered. “I- I am a toy. A g-gift, from Master, to you, Mir-”

Sydney cut herself off, quicking changing her words. “-Mistress Miranda, to be your toy, and to be used for your pleasure and entertainment.”

“Good, good.” Miranda murmured, patting the head in front of her. “That’s exactly right.”

“Can I take it that you’re satisfied, then?” I asked, amused.

Miranda let go of the long strands and leaned back against Sydney so she could look up at me, upside down, from her new spot.

“Oh yes, Ian, this is wonderful, thank you so much!”

“Excellent. Then there’s one last thing to do.”

I turned my attention back to the carrier and opened a small compartment at the top of the case, taking out the object inside and holding it out to Miranda.

“Would you like to to do the honors?”

When a Min was given to someone, along with a case to carry them around in safely, the DMC also issued a small black collar. The collar contained a chip that would allow the Min to be more easily identified, which was the official explanation for them. The unofficial but equally relevant reason was that they were, of course, also a mark of ownership, which is part of the reason I never bother to take them out before: I wasn’t ready, or allowing myself, to make such an obvious claim.

Sydney, of course, was a different story

Miranda looked down at the round object in my hand, large enough that she could wear it like a necklace, even if had been closed, and squealed. Either at the sound, or some other stimulus, Sydney shifted under her uncomfortably.

“Really, Ian? Can I?!”

I smiled. “Of course. I got her for you, after all.”

Jumping up from her seat, Miranda grabbed the collar before running back to her earlier place in front of the larger Min.

“Up!” She commanded sharply, and dutifully Sydney lifted herself to her hands and knees, only to freeze as she took in what Miranda had in her hands, eyes wide and frightened.

“Now hold still, Sydney.” Miranda said. “This should only take a minute.”

A smile on her face, she closed the collar around the other woman’s neck with a loud, final, ‘click’.

As if the sound was a signal Sydney began to cry, silent tears dropping down to bead against the table.

---

The real reason all the Mins in the story have long hair comes out! It’s easier to pull that way.

Well, that, and they don’t get regular haircuts.

In retrospect, with my interest in dragons and giant monsters and the like, it was something I had since basically… ever, but I didn’t realize it until much later, although even now that moment is still pretty vivid to me.

Back in the day when games still had paper guides, the back of one had a teaser picture for the next game… which featured the main character, an attractive woman in a delightfully skimpy dress with leg on display, on the back. She looked all of four or five inches tall and it was mesmerizing to me, and that was what made me realize I was interested in, well, not SW, I didn’t really know what it was, but something to that effect.

Brutally honest here, I’m pretty sure I’ve been depressed since… ever, even before I realized this was a thing for me, so it’s hard for me to tell, but yeah.

I get the scarcity thing; my searches on things like ehentai are for three things: mini girls (which is the new shrunken woman tag), shrink (which generally covers all varieties of the word) and… giantess, because sometimes there’s giantess with a smaller woman and that’s generally much more common than just SW content, even with the sheer amount of just normal GTS stuff I have to learn to filter through. And if you like giant couples…? Ouch. That’s even less that SW, from what I’ve seen.

It gets tiring, to look at the sheer, giant amount of porn that shows up on a daily basis and realize that, somehow, yours is the one that seemingly nobody likes/makes/cares about can be grating, and seeing the comments on some pages that are basically ‘?!?’ from random people doesn’t help either.

Personally, there’s also some guilt on just the whole thematics of it all, which doesn’t help, and the knowledge that nobody in my life would get it, even if they accepted it (and I wonder about the accepting part, even).

@kisupure
Well, at least you can actually draw, lol. I can’t even do that!

On a related note, could there be a tag to the effect of ‘NWO’ or ‘New World Order’ or something like that?

Hey, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you last. How’s things? Good to have more people from before show up!