Best posts made by i am insane

Something cute I found from Azur Lane.

@Kisupure
Oh, shit, yeah that one’s a lot better.

I wish I could draw that well.

I mean, a GT, GT, sw triangle is effectively ruined by the fact that it isn’t a love triangle, it’s two guys fighting over a toy. Unless they’re very considerate, the woman’s opinion isn’t going to be relevent to who she ends up with.

On the other hand, a sw, sw/normal, GT triangle, no matter the focus, has potential, because then the person choosing isn’t automatically overwhelmed by their options (whether the small choosing between small and big, or the big choosing between smalls)… unless the GT takes the third option and goes OT3.

Admittedly, I am fond of that last dynamic, to the point where I’m working on a story around it, but still.

@Olo

Yeah, that’s not surprising.

I mean, that’s the Dread Pirate Roberts thing, isn’t it? ‘Good night, Wexley, sleep well, I’ll probably kill you in the morning’.

Not matter how seriously you act, if you say it every time and never go through, and never, like, eat anyone else to show that your willing to do it, after awhile it’d feel like a bluff, I’d think. Or, even an inside joke or something.

Me: I’m going to eat you!
drops woman on food
Her: Oh, no!
swoons dramatically
Me: Mwahahaha!
spoons her up with some food and puts her into my mouth
Her: You monster!
eats some of food while strategically smearing herself in it

Man, this is nostolgic. I’m pretty sure all of Handheld can be found on e-hentai, actually.

does some searching

https://e-hentai.org/g/83089/872f0e066d/

1-2 are the only ones good for us; 3 and anything else they do is just normal GTS fair.

@SmolChlo
Let’s put you to bed, young lady.
puts you on a flat cupcake
And here’s your blanket.
covers your body in frosting
pauses
adds some sprinkles as well
Goodnight, sleep tight. I’m totally not going to eat you as a midnight snack while your in dreamland.

So, the flame of inspiration hasn’t died yet, but I need to balance this newfound writing fever with other things. Like sleeping. I keep getting into the frenzy of ‘I know where this is going I need to get there’ and all of a sudden it’s stupid fucking late, and I have yet to win my war upon my own need to rest.

Also, at some point I should probably try to go back and edit everything, but historically, every time I do that I basically lose my will to live. So. I’m not doing that, and you all are just going to have to suffer the shitty quality… yeah.

---

It was fair to say that the situation had gotten out of hand.

I’d always intended to have Miranda live up to her obligations, but I had meant to… build up to it, take her step by step beyond her comfort zone until she found herself fulfilling my every whim and not even thinking twice about it. It was meant to take place in the span of weeks, or monthes even, in a long, patient seduction of sorts.

This was pretty clearly not that, yet I couldn’t actully bring myself to regret that fact. The restraint, the slow pacing had never been a thing I wanted, but more of a gift to Miranda herself. If I cared about her less, I would have already explored, and exploited, ever nook and cranny of her by now, and the more time I spent with her, the more I regret that I hadn’t done so yet.

Miranda, the woman I had low key loved for years now, was a force, someone who could use her sheer force of will and charisma to make anyone submit to her demands. This Miranda, now? She was Min’d, afraid, naked and desperate enough to beg for help from me, of all people.

Miranda was, in more than just the literal sense, less than she had been before; she wasn’t someone to idolize and respect anymore, and I had slowly been coming to the realization that I no longer had to treat her that way anymore, either.

In the face of the look of horror she was giving me, I began tapping a finger on the table, delighting in the way she shrank away from it.

“Tick tock, Miranda. Tick tock. You don’t have forever to make a decision; in fact I’d say you have… a minute left to make a choice.”

Steadily mounting dread filled her expression as she looked from my face, to my finger, it’s steady beat marking the merciless passing of her time, to the faces of her friends, already lowered in surrender.

“Ian, I… wait, you don’t have to do this! Please, Ian!” she begged.

“You’re right, Miranda. I don’t have to do this.” I smiled. “But we both know that I want to.” I paused for effect. “Thirty seconds.”

At that, she fell to her knees and begged. Actually begged, tears falling from her eyes and her arms spread beseechingly. “Ian… I came to you for help! You said… you said you take care of me! Ian, please!”

“Miranda… you don’t get it, do you?” I muttered affectionately, “I am taking care of you.”

There was a startled yelp as my hand moved in from behind her, gently bumping its heel into the back of her knees before curving up suddenly, scooping Miranda right into the palm of my hand, where she stared up at me with such an adorably confusion that I had to laugh.

“Look at yourself, Miranda. Look at what you’re doing, look at what you’re wearing. Are you the same person you were a year ago? You can’t even handle a slice of pizza!”

I began running a finger down her back, feeling it tremble under my touch as I steadily moved it down and back, and kept my voice as soothing as possible. “You’re not a human anymore, Miranda, you’re a Min. You have been for some time. Look at me, OK?”

Mindlessly, she responded to the command and tilted her head back until it faced mine. “That’s a good girl. I want you to think, and answer me, honestly: do you really think you could take care of yourself right now? Find food, water, or shelter?”

Slowly, she shook her head.

“And what about your friends? How well do you think they could take care of themselves, if they were left alone?”

That got more of a response, a brief flash of dread flashing through her face before she whispered guiltily. “They couldn’t.”

“That’s right. Now, tell me. How well do you think I’m treating you? How well do you think you’d do if, one day, a man you never before had walked into the Kennel and managed to take you? Do you think things would be as good as they are now? Do you think he’d treat you as well as I do?”

“N-n-no.” Miranda sobbed quietly. “No, he wouldn’t.”

Slowly, I raised my empty hand and cupped her cheeks with my thumb and forefinger, pressing just enough to hold her head in place.

“Do you think you’re my girlfriend, Miranda? My roommate? My lover? Do you think we’re in any sort of relationship that means I have to treat you like an equal? Because we’re not. I own you, Miranda. I own you, and if I want to slap a collar around your neck and drag you around on a leash, there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop me. I said I was going to treat you well, and I will, but I don’t want you to think for a second that that is something you are owed, because its not. It’s something you are being given.”

I looked down on the figure shuddering in my hand, the last remnant of a person that no longer was, and sighed. I released her face, and instead grabbed one of her legs, squeezing it gently, feeling the tiny muscles flex against my hand.

“I’m giving you all these things, Miranda. To you, and your friends. And just like I promised, I’ll take care of anyone else you want my to protect, and make suffer anyone you want me to hurt. And all you have to do is listen to what I have to say.”

As I spoke, my hand inched its way up her body, squeezing her butt, rubbing the saliva still clinging to her toned stomach, before settling at last just below her chest. For a long moment I waited there, watching her eyes, shocked and incredulous, glance down from my fingers to and back up to my face, and at that moment of comprehension, I ran the pad of my thumb over an engorged nipple.

She moaned quietly.

“That’s the way. Isn’t that nice?” She nodded, and I did it again, lingering on the tiny point of hardness longer this time.

Miranda, lost and helpless, smiled back at me, and in that moment I dropped her on her rear.

“Now let’s try this again, Miranda. Get your friends. Do it, or I will.”

---

Me: talks about how I get so monfocus on this story.
Me: meanders around with all this crap I didn’t see coming.

@SmolChlo
…So you’re saying I get to eat you… again? Because SW ghosts sounds like calorie free meals to me.

Probably should have been mentioned this earlier, but thanks for all the nice comments, everyone! All the good vibes help me a lot with this.

Sorry it took longer than usual, but I’ve been feeling my… everything, lately.

---

I let them enjoy their treats for awhile before I broke up the fun.

“Alright, everyone, I have an announcement: today, we’re having movie night!”

I paused before correcting myself. “Well, Miranda and I are watching a movie, anyways. You two are invited, but I don’t actully care if you show up. You can join us, or watch it from the Min House, or just hide somewhere and do whatever.”

Miranda, bless her soul, had apparently been either appeased or abused enough to not protest my forceful inclusion of her, but after a moment the unspoken spokeswoman of the lesser Mins stepped forward.

“Pardon me, Master, but may I ask what you are watching?”

It was an odd question for Amber, considering the more practical bent of her questions when drawing my attention, but I got the feeling she was… testing the boundaries a bit. Not in a subversive way, but more trying to figure out what I would allow her, find the line so she could stay well clear of it.

Still, it would be interesting to see how far that boldness could go.

“You know, I’m not actually sure.” I said. “I guess I’m open.”

I waited, but Amber didn’t take the bait, merely stepping back with a polite curtsey to where she had stood before. Not bold enough, then, to raise her opinion unless she felt it was truly needed.

“Alright then,” I sighed, getting out of my chair. It was increasingly easy to adjust my arm around Miranda as I moved about, keeping her safely tucked against me as my body moved. Once I straightened up, I placed my free hand on the table, palm up.

“Anyone coming?”

Amber wasn’t the only one doing some testing though: there was something unspeakably fascinating about poking and prodding at the two of them, to see how long their courage would last before breaking, how long before a suggestion, in their minds, became an order they couldn’t refused.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that, interested in a movie or not, neither of them would be interested in being carried to see the movie, not by me, at any rate. Too much fear and (warranted) mistrust, too easy for me to simply close my hand into a clenched fist while they’re still inside, or to take them somewhere they didn’t want to go.

The pair traded nervous glances, and I didn’t have to look down to realize that Miranda was glaring at me.

“I- I mean, we, thank you for your generosity, Master, but… i-if you wouldn’t mind, would prefer to stay here for the moment.” Amber stammered briefly, before adding a quiet, ‘Please don’t’ at the end I think I wasn’t supposed to hear.

Interesting. I would have thought that had read far closer to a command than my unspoken question about movies. Maybe the fear of being held by me had overcame their normal reservations?

I shrugged casually. “Alright.”

And, really, it was. As much fun as it was to poke and prod at them to see how they reacted, I still didn’t care how they spent their time.

My business with them done, I turned and left, still cradling Miranda carefully. After a minute, she finally spoke up.

“What the hell was that about?”

It was more subdued than how she had talked to me before, but the anger was still present. It was, in my mind, a good sign, so I decided I’d give her a straight answer in return.

“…Honestly? I wanted to see what they would do. I asked them a question, because I wanted to see what they’d do with it. What choice they’d make.”

I paused and thought about it again, that small defiance, glaring compared to their short history of cowering subservience.

“And I did.”

As I arrived at my chair, I heard her huff, and it was with a little irritation, and maybe a touch less of a gentle touch than before, that I shifted her in my grip, moving her around until she sat on me knee, facing me as I sat down.

I refrained from reclining, instead focusing on the conversation at hand.

“Seriously, Miranda, you need to relax. I’m not going to hurt them, I’m not even going to touch them. Not unless there’s permission.”

I leaned towards her, my face stern. “Not unless you push me, Miranda.”

She didn’t flinch, but she tensed in a way that made me think she was stopping herself from doing it, and it was enough for me to be sure that I got my point across.

Pushing myself back, I popped up the footrest. “Your little friends are interesting, Miranda, and they’re fun, sure. But we all know this isn’t about them. Maybe it is to you, at least, but not me.”

I picked up the remote and start searching through movies, looking for something… simple. Something I knew already.

I felt Miranda get up, walking forward and sitting down at the base of my leg, back against my stomach, legs almost straddling the width of my thigh.

Eventually, I started the movie, an old favorite of mine: action, plenty of guns and dramatic moments, easy for me to watch in even if I wasn’t paying attention.

Which I wasn’t.

I gave it a valiant effort, I really did, but the sensation of her on my body, her thin form laying against mine, it was… distracting. To say the least.

Not too long into the movie, I moved my arm from the arm rest to lay it across her legs.

It held her closer to me, which was nice. It felt… affectionate, caring. Like placing an arm over the shoulders of your girlfriend, if adjusted for a different scale.

It also let me cover myself, which was something I desperately wanted to do before she noticed just how much I was paying attention to her.

As my arm set down carefully upon her, Miranda glanced up at me with a cryptic look, but she didn’t protest, so I was able to stay that way the entire time. It was nice. It was what I wanted in the first place: to protect her, to keep her close, to keep her safe.

And maybe, just maybe, to have a relationship of some form. Fondness, or affection, even.

It was hard to remember that, sometimes, when I felt her in my hands, the feel of her skin as she squirmed against my grip, so soft and helpless and mine, at last mine.

It was harder to remember when she looked at me, eyes distant and unfeeling, like I was nothing more than a means to an end, a trial for her to endure.

Harder still when she stared up at me, face filled with fear and horror and the realization that she had made a mistake, that she never should have trusted me, that I would-

…

It was hard, in other words. Hard to be kind and gentle when she was so madly alluring and bloody infuriating, and so a moment like this was something I wanted to treasure.

---

Hmm. I feel like I’m at a filler moment, trying to figure out how to best transition to where I want to be next.

I mean, while as in general I like the idea, in practice I’m pretty burned on F/m content, so if I was to write it, I wouldn’t want to do that, either.

There’s a couple of ways I think could get around it (well, outside of it being F/f, which while I’d like more for obvious reasons, probably isn’t what you’re going for): the first is simply… skipping over the F/m parts. Start after the guy is giant again, or as he’s grown back, and feed the SM backstory organically as they interact; Missletowe, back in the old forums, had a story done in that fashion, but that was a pure revenge trip where the guy had been abused until the shrinking machine got fucked up by lightning and flipped the script on his captors (one of who shrunk to nothing).

The other way is… well, don’t have the interaction at all. The guy is a little statue, or something: can’t move, can’t talk, but he can perceive the world around him, to some extent. It works really well in a magic setting, because then the woman thinks he’s a fairy or something, which is something she could naturally expect rather than him being something bigger and just compacted, and she coos over the ‘little guy’ all the time while trying to get him free, and giving him a good impression from his eternal prison… and then when she finally releases him, the giant demon lord sealed away millennia ago, or whatever, pops out, completely unexpected on her part, with neither of them having properly interacted before, but both with positive impressions of the other.

I didn’t look at the dog bed when I woke up. I didn’t know if Miranda was there or not, and I didn’t want to know. Not yet, anyways.

I’m not sure how much the other two saw last night, but if nothing else they sure picked up on my mood: by the time I finished scrambling some eggs on the stove, they were at the edge of the table again, mere steps from the ladder, and all but cowering as they tried to avoid my attention. I left them to tremble as I prepared the table: two small plates, each with a tiny portion of eggs, and a larger plate, where I put the rest of the eggs. It was as I was applying some jelly to the toast that I realized that there was no sign of Miranda, and that for all I knew she didn’t even know I was making food.

I would have liked to say I thought about the decision, but at the same time part of my mind was noting that the eggs wouldn’t reheat well, my mouth was opening to shout.

“Breakfast is going to get cold, Miranda!”

There. Conscious assuaged. If she still didn’t show up, then it was her fault she was going to eat sub-par scrambled eggs, not mine. Amber and Mia, if anything, lowered themselves even farther down on the table at the sound of my voice, but a minute passed and there was still no sign of Miranda.

“Looks like it’s just us, then.” I announced to the Mins, who didn’t seem reassured by my statement, but I ignored their fear and sat down to eat.

Part of me was irrationally, bitterly glad that Miranda was ignoring me: it let me be angry easier, let me put the blame for our… everything on her. Another part noted that if I wanted her at the damn table so bad, I could just make her come: she only had a choice in the matter if I let her have one. She was, it reminded me, not my girlfriend who I was having a fight with, she was the Min I owned. I could blame her for whatever I wanted, do to her whatever I wanted, and there was nothing she could do about it, and that fact was oh so tempting.

The rest of me was just pining for her presence, pathetically so. I knew, in the end, I’d be stupidly happy just watching her go about her day, even if she was ignoring me, and that fact only fed into my irritation.

The worst part of it all was the fact this was all her fault in the first place! I hadn’t expected anything from her beyond annoyance and dismissal, and I had resigned myself to a life of lonesome longing before I had even met with her; it was Miranda, in the first place, who brought up and accepted in the same breath the fact I could and would use her. It was Miranda who plead to me for safety, cried over my kindness, smiled at me with that damn smile of hers, only to all but spit in my face minutes later.

I could deal with getting nothing from her, I expected to get nothing from her, so why did she keep taunting me with all these fantasies of anything more?

Why did she keep getting my hopes up?

I was so busy fuming, only half heartedly eating my food to better wallow in my bad mood, that I was lost to the world around me until I felt a slight tug at one of the legs of my pants.

“Uh.” Miranda began, refusing to look me in the face. “Is… is it too late for me to eat?”

I stared at her, stunned and mouth still filled with eggs, for so long that she took at as a rejection.

“Oh”. She murmured softly, seeming to fold in on herself ever so slightly, before beginning to turn away.

“OK then. That’s… I’ll just-”

I swallowed hastily. “Wait!”

Miranda flinched at my shout, but stopped moving. “Wait! Of course you can eat! I was just… surprised.”

“Oh!” She said again, her tone suddenly lighter. “Thank you!”

There was a pause where neither of us moved.

“Would you… like me to help you up?” I ventured.

Yesterday, I knew, I wouldn’t have even thought about moving her to the table. Today, though, today taking that liberty felt… wrong. Like we were starting fresh, and if I wasn’t careful, I could wreak any chance I had of us having something better than how it had been.

Miranda, apparently, was just as surprised by my sudden courtesy as I was, and stared at me for a moment before smiling gently.

“That… that would be nice.” She said, sounding almost shy.

Slowly, I reached down to her, grabbing Miranda firmly around the hips before lifting her as smoothly as I could. She tensed slightly at my approached, but only that: she didn’t try to run from me, and even relaxed slightly at my firm grip on her body.

Then she was on the table again, and we were both trying and failing to eat, distracted by each other’s presence.

“Oh!” I said, starting to get up from the chair. “I just remembered I got you silverware to use. Give me a minute and I’ll grab it-”

Miranda jerked away at my sudden movement, and I froze. For a tense second we stared at each other, before she sighed and waved me down.

“Sorry about that, I just… panicked a little.” She shook her head. “This isn’t going how I wanted it to at all. Can you just… sit down for a minute? I want to ask you something.”

I nodded before lowering myself gingerly to my seat. Miranda sighed again.

“Ian, I-” She cut herself off, pinching her nose with one hand while holding the other up. “Actually, can you just… give me a minute?”

I officially had no idea what was going on. “…Sure.” I said finally.

“Thanks.” Miranda said almost absently, before starting to pace back and forth on the table, muttering to herself.

A quick glance to the side revealed that Amber and Mia were just as confused as I was, if less worried than they had been before: while it looked like they still hadn’t touched their food, they seemed far less stressed than they had been the last time I looked at them.

She stopped and took a deep breath. “Alright.”

I focused on her as she turned to face me. “Ian. I… it occurs to me that I handled things… badly, between us. Everything, honestly. I didn’t need to make things so adversarial between us. I’m sorry about that. Really, I am. You’ve been doing me, all of us, this incredible favor and I’ve been rude to you in return. I’ve just been in a bad place recently-”

She gestured at her body, before waving her arms out at the entire room, and how vast it was in comparison to her.

“-Obviously, and I’ve been taking it… badly. Which makes this next part even more awkward than it would have been.”

I leaned back in my chair as she stopped for a breath, my jaw on the floor.

Holy shit. She was apologizing. Holy shit.

“I had a hard time in the Kennel,” Miranda continued. “There is very little structure there, outside of some basic rules imposed on us, and so the biggest among us ruled. I’m big for a Min, more than enough to give Amber and Mia some protection, but there was one woman there who was bigger than me. Sydney…” Miranda winced. “Was unhappy with my presence. She felt like I was moving in on her territory, and wasn’t afraid to take it out on me.”

She snorted. “Which was stupid, really, because I wasn’t a threat to her; I tried to fight her when she got in particularly nasty mood, several times, actually, and I didn’t stand a chance. But she did it, anyways.”

She stopped, fists clenched, and I waited patiently for her to continue, barely able to breath.

“I hate her.” Then louder. “I hate her, Ian! I hate that stupid, over sized bitch! I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t want to be ‘in her way’! I just wanted to be left alone, and she just-”

Miranda was screaming now, clenched fingers clawing through the air. “I want to make her pay! I want to her to be the one to be afraid, to be the one crying! I want to hurt her, Ian! So much!”

She stopped and panted, catching her breath as I stared at her, enraptured by the display.

“But I can’t.” Miranda continued, suddenly as calm as could be. “I’m here and she’s there, and even if I could get to her, she’d beat me just as effortlessly as before. I can’t do anything.”

She lifted her head to stare me straight in the eye. “But you can, Ian. You promised me, yesterday. You said you would protect anyone I wanted to protect, and hurt anyone I wanted hurt.”

“I want her to hurt, Ian.” Her voice was like a blade: sharp, cold and completely merciless. “Her name is Sydney Wilson, and I want her to hurt.”

For a long moment I stared at Miranda, at her determination, at the weakness that she had just laid before me. This, I knew, was my chance, my choice: I could take this opportunity she gave me, and build some kind of bond with her, or reject it, and her, forever.

I nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

---

Your daily reminder that this is not a nice story I’m writing.

Also, the real reason I’m annoyed at the name of this fic: I’ve finally reached the point where it no longer matches, and at this point, it’s probably too late to change it. Also, I wouldn’t know what to change it to.

This ‘twist’, if it is a twist to you, was something I had always planned to do, but… later. Then again, this fic, both within and without, seems to be about recklessly accelerating relationships, so it’s fitting in a way. I’ve got to say, though, working in the new character with the olive branch to ‘fix’ their relationship (and oh, what a fucked up olive branch it is: torture my enemy for my love!) for their relationship is a stroke of genius I wish I could take credit for, but I have like… only three or four plot points for this entire story. The rest is all flailing and spinning bullshit.

@Olo
The SW sneaking into your clothes, into your bags, into your food, constantly stalking you, but she’s on you; no privacy in your home, no matter how hard you try. Threatening to reveal herself to friends and claim abuse unless you spoil her constantly.

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.