Best posts made by i am insane

I’m posting my one active story over here from the other forum, and… yeah.

For what was happening, I expected… more. Background checks, in-depth interviews, or a social security number, even. Apparently though, all that really mattered was both sides agreed, and everything beyond that point was just formalities. Hell, the staff even walked me through the subsidies I could apply for and how I could use this as a tax break, and just like that, I was almost being paid for what amounted to taking ownership of three women, permanently.

“Everything seems to be in order.” the woman helping me said at last. She had told me her name at some point, I knew, but I had past the entire proceedings in something of a daze, and that detail, among others, had slipped past me. The fact that I could see bright red scales, boldly contrasting against her literally golden hair, rising distractingly from somewhere beneath her shirt and up her neck to frame her face didn’t help the matter, either, and in my head I had just taken to calling her Scale Woman. I had the impression she wasn’t expecting much from me, conversationally or otherwise, but I couldn’t bring myself to care that I was playing into her low expectations.

Scale Woman smiled professionally. “The three of them have been prepared for transfer, so if you’ll just bear with me for a moment I will bring them right over.”

I blandly agreed with her, and as she rose from her chair, I tried to distract my whirling mind by wondering where, exactly, those scales began, but it was short lived before the issue that was consuming me: Miranda.

She and I were never anything, I had no illusions on that front, but ever since I had first met her I had been entranced by her beauty… and she knew it. My staring early on had hardly been subtle, and she had caught me several times before I learned to manage that habit, but it had never provoked more than a knowingly raised eyebrow from her. She never made anything of it, never mentioned it to her boyfriend, who I had known since college, or anyone else, as far as I knew. We were never close, only seeing each other when meeting with friends, and I was pathetically grateful when we eventually fell out of touch, freeing me from such temptation.

And then I found out, recently, that she had been Min’d, and her whole life had went to shit. Jarret, as it turned out, was one of those who was less than accepting of Mins and their lot; Miranda had no family, and her friends were either unChanged or uncaring, and without anyone willing or able to take custody of her, she ended up in the system.

And then, eventually, she had one of her minders call me.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew she didn’t like me, didn’t want to be with me, or anything like that, even before she had explained exactly what she wanted out of the situation. Miranda and her friends had talked about it, apparently, and decided that I was, objectively, a better option than living in what was basically a human kennel for the rest of their lives, even with whatever liberties I would inevitably take with them. A heartwarming sentiment it wasn’t, but I took her deal all the same, to the surprise of neither of us.

Still, the carefully blank face she showed me as she walked in, her head barely above Scale Woman’s knee, fed the bitter feeling that had been growing inside me ever since, sending it roaring to new heights.

If she had just asked, just told me she wanted help, I would have taken her and her friends in a heartbeat, without any of the dramatics she had opened with. I would have wanted her still, of course, but my wandering eyes aside I have never so much as touched her before in my life, and even with the legal freedom to do so, I like to think I still would have treated her with dignity, respected her rights as a person… even if, in the eyes of society, she really wasn’t anymore. The fact that she didn’t think that was possible, to the point that me taking advantage of her was never even a point of contention in her mind, was insulting. Stung, I had accepted her terms without an argument, and the freedoms it gave me over her, but even then I still intended to do the honorable thing.

But now? Now I wasn’t so sure what I would do, and our arrangement meant that things like ‘honor’ were no longer relevant. In all ways that mattered, Miranda had given herself to me, and she was a gift I would not longer force myself to ignore.

I’m not sure what she saw on my face then, how much of what I was thinking was apparent for her, but in that instant she flinched, ever so slightly, her expression shifting for a instant, faster than I could read it, before she expertly hide it behind her facade of indifference.

Oblivious, or perhaps uncaring, to the atmosphere between the two of us, Scale Woman moved forward, Miranda obediently following in her wake, before setting the case she was carrying on the table in front of me. About the size of a cat carrier, it was sturdy, with large panels of what I knew was some sort of one-way material on the upper half. A Min transport, designed to isolate them safely from the outside world when being moved.

“Miranda, as you can see, is right here,” she began, gesturing downwards towards her feet, not even looking to see if the woman in question was actually there, “And now we will confirm the presence of Amber and Mia.”

I frowned briefly, before I realized she was talking about the friends. The ones I had never met before. Lovely. As she opened the cage, I glanced from it to Miranda. For once, she was not supernaturally aware of my gaze, instead focused on the two figures staggering out the transport. A expression of joy and relief filled her as she saw them, and I eyed it hungrily, the way her smile lit up her face, changing her presence to something warm and inviting.

I wanted that. I wanted that expression, that face, to look like that to me, for me and for me alone, and in for a long minute I was filled with a nearly overwhelming desire to simply grab her and make her look at me. Instead, I forced my eyes away, towards the clearly judging face of Scale Woman.

“Well?” she asked. “Can you confirm their identities?”

I didn’t actually know what they looked like, but there was no way Miranda would be that happy to see some random Mins. Still, I peered over at her, her face once again carefully blank, and received a slight nod in response.

“Yes, that’s them.” I said confidently, as if everyone there didn’t just watch me check with someone else.

Scale Woman, true to form, completely ignored the byplay and nodded. “Excellent. Then may I be the first to congratulate you on your new acquisitions.”

For mouthplay, a lot of the time it’s just an extension of everything else involving lewding an SW; it’s dangerous to the SW, sure, but… everything is. A lot of standard SW sizes could (and do) die to a dick (or pussy), much less a hand, a foot, or… literally any body part. But putting them in your mouth gives you an extra level of control as you cut them off from the rest of the world , with the implicit threat of crushing teeth and that gaping void waiting for them in the back, all while your tongue can easily dominate them. Also, let’s be honest here: an actual SW would probably taste delicious.

Beyond that, though, the reasons extend into the reasons I like vore: TLDR,; power, like almost everything to do with this fetish but more so.

Eating something, as a cause of death, has… something extra to it. You don’t just kill them, you take from your prey, you become more as they come less. Honestly, predation is probably the most primitive, basic, primal power relationship that there is. I’ve always preferred predator to prey animals, the bigger and meaner the better, and looking back at it that interest was probably based in the same interests that lead me to SWs in the first place. Regardless of the actual realities (nature is complicated, gasp!) there’s something inside you that says the one eating another is bigger, stronger, superior to the one that is being eaten, and to devour your enemy is an ultimate form of victory over them. It still applies even if the vore isn’t physical, if you can syphon from them or something; the act, either literal or metaphorical, of taking is the biggest part for me.

On the less violent end, while I can’t really understand the SW perspective, the idea of being so much bigger than someone(s) that they can live inside you, vulnerable and helpless to your actions, conscious or automatic? That, perhaps literally, you are a world to them? That is hot.

Also, I’ve always been an eater since I was kid. Vore vibes with me on that level the same way super powers or monsters that involve eating do.

“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.

I think the weirdest part of this is the, ‘WTF’ energy the guy has going on. He either doesn’t believe her, wants no part of her craziness, no part of her probable drunkness, or all of the above.

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.

@olo
I mean, I get that, but look at him. He looks like he’s three seconds from running away screaming. It’s honestly hilarious.

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.

@tiny-ivy
As a would be writer and as a fan, I get that writing, especially with real life is hard. As a fan, I am almost pathetically grateful for any content we get in this niche-as-fuck fetish.

We’ll take what you can when you can, but don’t beat yourself up when you’re not up for it. We need to support each other, after all.

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.

A nice way to play it is a normal person from our version of reality, being randomly transplanted or having reality changed to one where SWs are an established thing, and being the only one to notice.

So, they see moving out of the corner of their eye and think, ‘mouse’, where everyone else thinks, ‘SW’. Or just a blue screen of death over this is a tiny person, what the actual fuck while everyone stares at them, puzzled.

Maybe their girlfirend is suddenly small, and they’ve been living together for years, and he’s too busy having a breakdown to be into her, and she goes to her girlfriends wondering why he doesn’t like her any more, and so escalates with skimpier clothes and stuff, and it keeps escalating until something in his brain finally connects ‘this small mammal thing’ with ‘this is a naked hot woman covered in chocolate’.

“You may come to realize, in time, that as a pet, a lot of your life will remain the same: I will keep you fed, housed, and well cared for. We’ll spend time together. The main difference, you’ll find, is… a certain restriction on your freedoms that you didn’t have before, things I allowed you that you’ll no longer have…”

I trailed off, before reaching under Miranda’s chin with a finger, forcing her out of her slump to maintain eye contact with me.

“That is, if you’re a pet in good standing. If I find your attitude disrespectful, though, I’ll be forced to take action. There are lines a human can cross that pet are not allowed, after all.”

I sighed. “Of course, this is hard because it’s still you Miranda. There is only so much I’m willing to do to you compared to others, and that could make disciplining you… difficult.”

For a moment, hope flared into her eyes. Then I continued.

“Do you know what one of your biggest mistakes is, Miranda?” I asked. “About the situation we’re in?”

I paused, then clarified. “Beyond the obvious, of course.”

I watched the hope began to flicker and fade, but she didn’t respond. After a moment passed, I continued. “The fuss you made over Amber and Mia. The worry. The concern.”

I gazed deep into her eyes, watching the hope be snuffed out, the bleak despair being overtaken by a fresher, rawer fear.

“Yeeess.” I hissed gleefully, lifting my finger and forcing her to her feet. “If you doubted your ability to manage me, you never should have mentioned them, never should have brought them here. I know the Kennel was unpleasant, but I think you’ve realized by now that I can be worse if I feel the need. You thought I would protect them, but in reality? All you’ve done was give me a weakness to exploit, painted a target on their backs.”

At last, Miranda found her voice. “No… Ian, no please! They’re innocent! They didn’t do anything to you, they’ve tried to please you, Ian pleas-”

“You’re right.” I interrupted. She stared blankly at my response. “What? You are. They’ve bent over backwards to try and comply with my demands, and I’ll admit I’m happy with their attitudes. They’re attractive, willing little toys who would do just about anything for a cookie; what’s not to like? The thing is, Miranda, is that doesn’t matter. They could actually worship me as a god, with prayers and rituals, and they’d still be just as disposable to me as they are now. I may have grown attached to them, and I may regret the act, but you’ve helped me realize that, in one short car trip, I could easily go find two new toys to replace them, or more, even. There’s always going to be more Mins, after all. Ones just as desperate to please, ones so pathetically afraid and hungry that they’d willingly crawl into my mouth just for a chance to eat whatever leftovers remained…”

I stopped and considered what I just said. “Actually, that does sound kind of hot. I think I might want to try that later. But I’m wandering off topic here: while they are good little Mins, that fact only does so much for them. It’s what you think of them that makes their lives have any weight to them. Which, coincidentally, brings me to the next point.”

Reaching out, I scooped up Miranda by her butt, settling her next to my body as I tucked Sydney under my arm. “But first, let’s take this to the table. I think we’ll want the room.”

I had gone and collected a few things before I had returned to the chair, and I could see Miranda take in the new additions to the table top: the box where I had gotten the outfits out of… and a large cage. One just large enough for her to stand in, with its door hanging open invitingly.

Near the top, a water bottle was attached at just the right height for Miranda to be able to drink from its metal tube, while a currently empty tray for food sat on top of a soft bed of litter, the only other feature in an empty environment. To complete the picture, a simple clip hung from the door, one I could manipulate easily, but still requiring more force than even Sydney could muster to open.

“I had a couple of weeks before my house was ready,” I explained to Miranda as I reached my usual chair, “And I decided it would be for the best to prepare for almost any eventuality. I didn’t really think I’d need it, but now I’m happy I thought ahead so much.”

Gently, I deposited Miranda onto the table, where she scrambled to her feet uneasily, before putting Sydney back onto my lap.

“You know, Sydney, you’ve started to grow on me.” I mentioned almost absently as I began to stroke her back again. “Under the circumstance, I’m afraid I’m going to have to confiscate you from Miranda, but you’re turning out to be a great little lap pet all the same.”

There was something unbelievably soothing about petting something so soft and warm, and way she rested perfectly in her new place.

“But now that we’re all here, I think we should turn back to the subject at hand.” I began, turning back to Miranda.

“Amber and Mia. Your friends… or should I say, your ‘friends’? They’re disposable to me, Miranda, but I’m curious: what do they mean to you? I know I call them your friends, but are they? Do you actually like spending time with them? Or they a burden, an obligation? A symbol of your guilt? Or perhaps are they even less than that? Do you just like having little toys of your own, Miranda? Little helpless creatures so desperate for help that they’d even take the person who ruined their lives as a protector? That’s what we’re going to find out, because now we’re going to play a game.”

I smiled a shark’s grin, toothy and filled with anticipation, and she shuddered. “I call it Sacrifice, and for now, Sacrifice is how we’ll clarify your new living situation. Sacrifice, you see, is a game with real life consequences, with penalties that will be very real. And the first thing you need to do to play is simple: strip.”

Miranda’s eyes widened, and she backed away, holding up her arms in a futile defensive moment. “What? Ian, no-”

“Ian, yes.” I interrupted. “But don’t worry, Miranda, it’s completely necessary. How can you understand the cost of losing something when you still have it? But before you can object, like you always do, I need to make something clear.”

Reaching out, I pushed two fingers into her stomach, and she let out a delightful little sound of surprise as she fell onto her butt.

“You, Miranda, are being punished. Normally, I like it when you struggle a bit, fight, complain. Show me that spirit I fell in love with. But right now? Every time you defy me, every time you disobey, every time you refuse? I take something away from you, or the others. I’ve taken a lot of things from them, Miranda, and there’s only so much I take from them until there’s nothing left. So, if I were you, I’d think very carefully about your choices.”

I leaned back in my chair, removing myself from her presence, as she got back up. I wanted whatever to happen to be by done by her own hands.

“So, Miranda. Clothes off.” I tilted my head. “Or do you want to see what happens?”

As it turns out, Miranda did not want to find out what happens.

“Good.” I crooned gently as she reached for the back of her dress. “Good girl, Miranda.”

It wasn’t a strip show, sadly; Miranda took of her clothing in as efficient way as she could, all the while staring at me with soulful, tear filled eyes, silently pleading for what she didn’t dare to ask. As she finally removed the dress, I stared at what she revealed, the tiny intricate underwear, all transparent silk and lace adorning her body, attracting the eye in just right way.

She looked significantly less pleased with my enraptured attention to her outfit than she had been earlier.

“Stop there.” I commanded. “And get those shoes back on.”

Confused, she put the heels back on. I didn’t explain the reasoning, yet. That would be later. Next up…

I laid my hand, face up onto the table, halfway between where me and where she stood. “Bring me the dress, Miranda.”

At that, she started to open her mouth, only to close it in sudden realization. Instead, she reluctantly picked up her outfit from the table and walked towards me on shaky legs, only to stop at my hand.

Miranda looked me said a single, almost sobbing word. “Please.”

It had worked on me before now; again and again and again, I had folded before her desperation. Now I only raised an eyebrow in the air as I asked a simple question.

“Do you think I won’t?”

Miranda broke then, just a bit. She stayed standing, but she sagged in place, her body going limp, tears now falling from her face. I don’t think she even realized she had dropped her dress, or that it had fallen into my hand, until I spoke.

“Good girl, Miranda.” She straightened up at the sound of my voice, in that same way I had seen from the other: at attention, arms behind her back, chest out, head tilted submissively

A beat past, then I saw her move past her unconscious reaction, staring at her now empty hands, and then mine, as she realized what happened.

“You did well.” I continued warmly. “I know you’re having a hard time listening to instruction at the moment, but don’t worry, we’ll get through it together.”

I reached out with my free hand and gently stroked a finger against her cheek; she sighed gently and leaned into my touch, so engrossed by the sensation that she failed to notice the first hand put her dress back into the box. I could have stopped there, but instead, I caressed her hair, a smaller, kinder smile on my face.

No matter what I tried, the bigger gestures I made for her had never gone over well; she had stressed, struggled, and worried every step of the way. It was only moments like these, smaller in scope, with simple physical affection and praise that she truly seemed at peace.

It made me wonder: did she even want to live a life as a person? To face the complexities and hardships of trying to charter her own way in life, against the limitations of being a Min? To try and act an equal against people, beings that physically were so far beyond her to make her seem as nothing and that her mind couldn’t even conceive of being human?

Or did she, somewhere deep inside, want to be owned after all? To live the life of a pet princess, spoiled and adored with a tiny toy crown on her head? Cared for, clothed in finery, fed off her Master’s own plate and carried to and fro, all without worrying about anything more than her own happiness and doing what she was told?

On my lap, I could feel Sydney’s body being lifted up by the power of my erection, the way she adjusted herself around it. It only made me feel even hotter.

“I’m proud of you, Miranda.” I said. “I’m so proud. Are you ready for the next step?”

She frowned as I removed my finger, before tentatively nodding.

“Good. Good, Miranda.” I paused. “Now, get in the cage.”

She jerked. “N-” she began, stopping herself before she could violate my taboo, only to began to beg. “Please. Please Ian, please don’t do this, please!”

I held out my finger again and Miranda rubbed her face against it, almost frantically, hoping it was a sign I’d listen to her and we’d go back to what we were doing before. It was a tempting thought, true, and something I’d love to explore.

But all of this was about proving a point.

I gave her a minute to lavish me with affection before speaking. “Wait any longer, Miranda, and I’ll take that as disobedience.”

She flung herself away from my finger like it burned her, staring at me in betrayal. She stared up at me, and mouthed, ‘please’, one more time, before her nerve broke. Letting out a horrified cry, she turned on her heel and ran into the cage. Once she made it inside, she fell to her knees upon the litter and sobbed into her hands.

“Good girl, Miranda.” I soothed. “Good, good girl.”

Under the sound of my praise, her tears slowed and she looked back to me hopefully. “You did so well, didn’t you? That wasn’t so bad, now was it? Isn’t it nice to listen to me? Isn’t it nice to make me proud?”

I watched her sniffle, and wipe away the rest of the tears before she got back to her feet. Despite the fact she was standing in a literal cage, she smiled at me, happy with her simple treatment and my basic kindness.

It was almost sad to manipulate her so easily.

“Be a good little pet, Miranda, and close the door.” She paled. “Close yourself in the cage, Miranda.”

She shook, for a long, long moment, but then she took a step forward without me having to say anything else. Then another, and another, until she stood in front of the cage’s entrance. She reached out towards the door, only to stop again, hesitation clear on her face. She looked at me, then, then the cage, then at me again.

Then Miranda, without me having to do anything more than speak, closed the door, sealing herself in a cage of her own free well.

Immediately, she grabbed the bars, as if to undo what she had just done, and wept hysterically before she began to scream.

“No. No. NonononononoNONONO!” As I reached out my own hand to pull the cage towards me, her panicked cries gained a new focus.

“Ian! Ian! What did you do to me? What did you do to me?!”

“Me?” I asked, as the cage arrived before me. “Nothing, Miranda. Absolutely nothing.”

Calmly, I grabbed the dangling clasp and locked the door with a smile. “You did this to yourself.”

@Olo
Personally, I imagine it going in one of two ways:

First, a singular focus on the scientist experimenting on the giant, coming to realize that a powerful man bound up in chains is, in fact, hot to her. And that he’s really, really big, and that’s hot. And even between his legs, he’s bigger than her. And she has a shock prod, and it’s actually kind of fun to use it, and it’s hard to feel guilty about it considering how little reaction he has to that.

Fun times insue, with the scientist exploring her new found kinks with her somewhat willing partner. Story eventually ends with giant breaking out in a, ‘oh shit’, kind of way.

The other would be flipping perspectives between the giant and the scientist: the scientist is very into the whole giant thing as well, but she’s also forced into experimenting on him by her superiors and so she’s very conflicted morally about what she’s doing. Still, she ends up striking a relationship with her test subject.

Meanwhile, the giant is planning his escape; he’s been growing stronger steadily, and hiding that, and is at a point where he could escape his chains easily enough, but isn’t sure about the facility itself, so he’s biding his time as he gets stronger and stronger. He’s been acting compliant even as the various things they use to hold him back stopped working as well, and is faking unconsciousness when he’s drugged and the like, because he doesn’t want them to up their preparations about him before he’s ready.

He absolutely plans to flatten everyone in a lab coat he can find on his way out.

Then this one scientist tries to make things better for him and apologizes and he is Confused. Fully planning for the scientist to find out he’s not nearly as bound as they thought, him almost kill her to hid that knowledge, but decided not to out of trust, while she returns that trust by not ratting him out, even as it sends her into mental spirals.

Basiclly, the first one is a short story, the second is the much longer version.

A giant finds a civilization of tinies, huddled up alone in the cold, vulnerable and afraid. He takes them in, protects them, gives them a place to live on his table. As their fortunes change, they start to build themselves a better life: he helps, provides food and materials, and they love him for it, worship him, almost. A giant statue is raised in his honor, taller than the tallest building.

Then, one day, he destroys it, smashes all their works like a child knocking over sand castles. As they run, weeping and screaming in confusion, he begins to squash them, one by one, with his finger. He does it slowly, deliberately, because there’s no need to rush: they’ve lived their whole lives, after all, on his table, far far away from the ground

“Why!” They shriek at their protector as he turns them all to nothing. “Why are you doing this to us?! Why help us, only to do this?!”

Eventually, he deigns to answer. “Because,” he laughs, dragging away a woman with one hand as he pulps her husband with the other, “It’s fun!”

https://hikaku-sitatter.com/en/

Found this on Twitter awhile ago; kind of surprised I didn’t post it yet…

Basically, it lets you put a bunch of people in front of one of those scale walls and mess around with sizes, make them tall or small, and there’s a few other props you can add for reference. Honestly, I love it, because I know what I want, but I can never put that in numbers, and then if I put that in numbers I’m not sure what that means… anyways, I highly recommend this for writers. I’m using it right now to fine tune some details for a new story idea.

I mean, I’m not gay, but I am very asexual.

And yet, I am an avid SW fetishist, and ‘write’ highly sexual stories, and consume highly sexual SW media in general.

I barely give any shits about normal sized women in general, (and anime and the like has jaded me to revealing outfits to the point where it all but takes a bikini to notice that skin is being displayed) but shrink them and suddenly everything changes.