Posts made by i am insane

You know, I’ve seen talk that men, as a whole, aren’t sexualized, at all. That is to say, societally, men aren’t looked at as desirable for being a man who looks attractive, but because they’re doing something to be desirable. Men aren’t complimented for being hot, or looking good, or… anything like that.

And personally? I can believe it. It’s mixed up with me, I think, because I’m a bit too unimpressed by men for it to be normal, but outside of like, fan girls, I’m not really sure I’ve seen examples of people saying, ‘this man is hot!’ beyond poorly written porn/power fantasies, and even then it’s rare. Meanwhile, women being viewed as attractive is all over the damn place.

And again, it’s probably a bit mixed up with my own stuff, but as a man I’m not sure how I’d write a man as being attractive. Part of it is I don’t get it, true, but it just feels weird at some level to even think that way. Ironically, GT would make it easier, because it can be disconnected from just being being masculine and rely on the attraction of raw power, but the problem remains.

On giants as a whole, a big part of the reason I’ve never written a GT story is that because getting it right in a setting is hard. The easiest way is magic, but having them in any sort of modern setting just comes with whole lists of logistical problems its hard to resolve. I’ve been brainstorming a setting for awhile, and I think I’ve gotten it pretty close to having it viable, and it involves wars/uprising to get giants into a high place in society, improbable stuff like parts of their biology being environmentally advantageous, food/water needs not matching what you’d expect, and actual stipends for them to stay in their homes or giant designed areas. I’m putting all this work into a making a setting where giants and humans exist in the same places as semi-equals, and that just says a lot, I think.

@littlest-lily
It’s something I’ve talked about on this site before… somewhere, but I get the impression that a lot of GTS writers are men, and it’s as much about desperately needing to feel not in control as it is ‘women are sexy! Big women are more sexy!’, only it’s escalated with them to the current GTS fetish status. SM stuff still falls under similar ways, from what I’ve seen, it just seems less extreme because it’s focused on a small group of small people, rather than just the entire area, so the woman seems more rational when not interacting with the SM, and it’s often more about control than just destruction.

SW/GT stuff, meanwhile, does have men treat SWs like women treat SMs, but it’s only some of the content, not all of it, which is interesting. There’s as much gentle SW stories about men or women taking care of SWs as there are of SWs being oppressed. If we’re accepting my previous logic of ‘a lot of GTS/SM stuff is about men needing to not feel in control’, then the men writing it don’t feel that need, while the women involved, who have similar needs, are… handling them better? Societally, I think men wanting to feel in control is ‘acceptable’, so it’s easier to manage it, while women not wanting to feel in control is ‘acceptable’, so it’s easier to manage for them?

Most GT pics I’ve seen are similar to GTS in that they just destroy everything around them, but GT stories, in my experience, are almost as much a mix as SW stories, while GTS stories are generally the same as GTS pictures. I agree about the focus thing; GT/GTS fics focus on how powerful the big person is, while SW/SM fics focus on how weak the small person is, though by nature of the content that seems largely inevitable. GTS pictures and comics overwhelmingly show the women from an outside context, while stories, without the pictures of big women and boobs and legs, are often more balanced in their perspective, while SW pics focus almost entirely on the SW most of the time… and all of that feels like it’s focused on the male interest on the topic, rather than the female interest.

Though maybe my own perspective as a man are skewing my perception on it, I don’t know.

@littlest-lily
Oh no, I agree, micro stories are fun, but since it’s basiclly impossible to have normal interaction they’re harder to write and indulge in. Generally they tend to short stories more, since there’s less to explain than something longer and more in-depth.

@littlest-lily
Nope. I mostly go searching GTS content looking for F/f content, and never once have I really seen logistics addressed even slightly in a GTS fic. At the end of the day, I honestly get the impression most GTS fics, or pictures or comics or whatever, are all just someone venting something, and it’s only about the power and crushing and worship, either doing it themselves or by being the one crushed. Once a woman goes giant, everything goes perfect and they are unstoppable forces of nature, instead of being doomed to probably starve if the military doesn’t blow them up first for the massive casualties they always seem to cause after they promptly lose their minds and personalities they had before growing and turn into murdering psychopaths.

Honestly, the reason I’m so anti-SM/GTS is just that side of the fetish is so… toxic with whatever that is. In theory, giant boobs and legs and whatever sounds great, women are hot so more woman to be hot is good, right? In practice, me as a man reading them feels like indulging in self hate for my entire gender.

I mean, this is the giant problem in a nutshell. The world isn’t made for giants, and you can either accept being a second class citizen, or change things to fit you better, if you can.

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’.

So, this game came out in English awhile ago, and it was in… Japanese, I think, before that, but I’m finally thinking about getting it.

Has anyone played it?

It’s a silly shooter game about two tiny alien women (who are basiclly lesbians) going to a college dorm and shooting the women there to… if I remember right, harness their arousal Happiness Energy for their planet because they’re all falling prey to ennua, if I’m remembering right.

It’s… it’s basiclly a GTS porno game, with a side of small side of little squid monsters, except that, thankfully for us, the smalls are also women, and most surprisingly of all it’s out on the Switch, which I’m still kind of surprised about. Checking back in on it, there’s some DLC including giving the Pixies black lingerie to wear, just to make it clear what kind of game we’re talking about here. It reminds me a bit about Mr. Mosquito, from way back in the day, in that ‘small target hunting a normal sized human’ kind of way, but a lot more lewd.

Honestly, I’m just surprised that this game is so slept on in our community, considering this is one of the biggest SW things I’ve seen that lasts for more than five seconds in pop culture in years, and it’s basiclly made for us.

https://www.nintendo.com/store/products/gun-gun-pixies-switch/

I know that… @Kisupure did something like that with the Evangelion mechs, years ago. I’m not sure if it ever got posted here, but I remember reading it.

@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.

I like GT, but for modern settings it’s inherently limiting in a way that a SW story isn’t, because you can just have a small woman live in a house, somewhere, easily. Where does a giant live?

There’s just a lot of basic needs and creature comforts that can’t really be accommodated if a random person just goes big, between food (an SW can eat crumbs), water (a lake? Enjoy the fish poop), somewhere to stay (a warehouse? in the woods?) and so on that gets in the way of the fantasy part, at least for me. And, sure, part of it is my brain thinking too much about it, but the problem does remain unless you’re doing a one-shot.

And an SW can slip under the radar, but a giant is… noticeable. So the media and the government is going to be a thing…

Personally, I like settings that are just build around giants, either a fantasy where they’re natural, or a modern one where giants are just… a thing (this is something I’ve seen to great effect before, where people randomly turn into giants and over time they started being accommodated and live a ‘normal’ life, and I’m picturing my own version), or there’s just magic or something to wave off the problem…

But I drag on. Point being, SW stories are easy because my next door neighbor could have a harem of little women and no one would ever know, but just one giant just requires a lot of things.

@littlest-lily
I mean, there’s that too, but… when you play enough horror games, for example, after awhile the jump scares stop scaring you. Even if you don’t see it coming, you’ve been conditioned by all these startled moments where nothing actually happens to you that it stops triggering a physical reaction.

In the same vein, I’d imagine that, over time, an SW would be conditioned to accept being suddenly grabbed, either because it keeps happening and nothing ever happens to them, or just learned helplessness in general.

There’s some variation for size, but when I’m doing it as transport, close the hand around her; otherwise it feels like she might fall off. At the same time though, when it’s not about moving her, or at least not moving her any real distance (to me, anyways), an open hand lets me look at her better, and for her to get a better look at me in turn, while also allowing her to feel less trapped

If they’re small enough, a couple of inches or so, pinching between fingers becomes more tempting as the ‘display’ hold, though if anything I’d be even less likely to try and transport her that way if she’s so small and easy to lose track off; that’s the point where just closing her up in my hand becomes tempting.

Early on in the relationship (unless I’m playing hard ball for some reason), I’d want her to willingly come to me and walk into my hand whenever possible, to build trust so that she’s not too afraid, but as time passes and we settle into our relationship, and she gets used to be picked up, I’d probably be more and more casual about just… grabbing her, often with little to no warning.

I can’t remember what book, sadly, but there was a scifi book I read years ago where they had something similar to that kind of tech; there was a scientist guy who used available biomass to bulk himself up into this iron mini giant with a big cock, and he made a little city of people.

It never went into much detail about it, other than it was there (the main character looked down on him because of it, and it was clear this was happening because he was afraid/trying to compensate), and eventually the little city was absorbed to use their biomass.

I… want to say it was Star Dragon, by Mike Brotherton.

I sighed happily.

“You know what?” I asked rhetorically. “I’m feeling better now.”

And I really was; it seemed like that fit had worked off the last of my frustrations. With a clearer head, I considered Miranda, still trapped in my grip.

Carefully, I began to untangle her from my arms, still keeping my grip in place. “I think we’re about done here. I proved my point, I vented. I’m about ready to go to bed…”

I trailed off as I considered Miranda, neck and lower back in one hand, her head covered by my fingers, and ass resting in the palm of the other. She was free to move, for the most part, but either what I had done to her in my fit, or the way I was holding her head, had stopped her from doing anything more than tremble slightly in my grasp.

“But we need one last talk before then.” I finished.

She flinched at that, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret her fear.

“I want to make something clear, MIranda. This, what happened here, isn’t going to be your normal standard of behavior. You angered me, and I punished you, and that got mixed with my general… frustrations with how things are going.”

Gently, I brushed at her hair with my thumb, but she only shook again at my touch.

“As a pet, I’m taking away choices from you, yes. I’ll use you, of course. At the same time, though, is with less focus on letting you do things yourself, I can do more for you. Take care of you, spoil you, even.”

Quietly, I lowered my head and exhaled onto her exposed skin. She shuddered and arched in my hands, and I realized that her nipples were hard, that they had been the entire time.

“We both know, Miranda, that there’s more I could have been doing for you, to you, from the start. But I didn’t, because I was waiting for you. Waiting for you to want them…”

I exhaled again, slowly, from the tips of her breasts down to her legs, and she moaned almost inaudibly.

“Or maybe you were just too afraid to ask.” I continued. “Maybe because you were afraid of me, maybe you were afraid of giving up control to me, voluntarily, when you already have so little, and worried about not getting it back. I’m not going to go beyond this, tonight, but I want you to think about something: you being a pet? This is a temporary situation. In a week or two, maybe, I’d be willing to go back to the way things were before, give things another shot. Not force you to fight for things, allow you choices in being picked up or not, and so on. But.”

I stopped, and this time dropped the smallest bit of spit I could onto her breasts, before I breathed on them once more. This time, she moaned louder, lewder, even as she visibly fought against the impulse.

“Aren’t you even just a little bit curious?” I asked, whispered really, into her ear.

“What?” She said, so startled by my question that she responded on instinct.

“Aren’t you even just a little bit curious how it would feel?” I had leaned in even more as I spoke, whispering so quietly it barely shook her hair even with how close I was now.

“To give into me, to surrender? You’re fighting me so much, Miranda. Aren’t you tired? Aren’t you tired of fighting so hard to act like something your not? Doesn’t it sound nice to just… close your eyes, and let me take care of everything for you? To protect you from the world? To spoil you? Don’t you want to all the pleasures you haven’t been allowing yourself to indulge in, all this time? I know you’re afraid of me… but in your heart of hearts, did you ever think I’d really mistreat you?”

I let her consider it for a moment, watched her tremble, her head shaking back and forth in frantic denial under my grip, before I moved in for the kill.

“You’re not stupid, Miranda. I’m sure you could act like a well behaved, if down on her luck, person, and in that week or so we could try it all again. We can pretend that you aren’t a squeaking little thing that I keep in my house, if you wanted. But that’s what I want you to think about.”

I moved so my mouth was less than an inch from the tiny, delicate construction of her ear, and when I spoke I could only barely hear my own words.

“Will you want to go back to that?”

I wanted to keep going, to push harder, but I had done that plenty today. It was better, now, for her to think about what I said on her own. Instead, I got up gently, even as I lowered my hand down her back so she could see again.

“Don’t worry, Miranda.” I said reassuringly as she startled again at my movement. “I’m just taking you to the bathroom. I imagine you want to clean up?”

After a second she nodded, almost reluctantly, and I smiled warmly.

“I thought so. I’ll just let you take care of yourself now, alright? We can talk more in the morning.”

I didn’t get much of a response from her, but by the time we reached the bathroom and I flicked the lights on, her gaze had gone from terror filled to bewildered and wary. Gently, I lowered her to the tiled floor, and walked away without another word.

When I returned to the table, I found Sydney, obediently staying where she was told and kneeling in the remains of the ice cream. I nodded in approval before picking the entire bowl up and carrying it into the kitchen, noting absently how she fell onto her side in the process, further coating her body in the dessert.

Setting it on a counter for a moment, I started the water to warm in the sink before plucking the Min from where she lay. Absently, I considered her as I rinsed out the worst from the bowl, placing it into the dishwasher.

“You’re good at listening.” I told her, while my free hand checked the water temperature.

Sydney flinched, slightly, before realizing that it was a compliment.

“Thank you, Master.” She said softly.

“You’d do well to keep at it; keep your head down and do what you’re told.” I advised, turning my full attention to her.

“You may have noticed that things are a bit unstable here at the moment. Play your cards right, Sydney, and you might find yourself in a much better place than where you started. Do you understand me?”

She nodded hesitantly. “I understand, Master.”

I smiled and lowered the pressure. “Good girl. Now hold your breath.”

I waited a beat, then brought her into the flow of water, allowing it to rinse the worst of the stains from her before pulling her out.

I looked her over briefly, checking for any areas that were still glaring dirty, before stopping and examining her again, slowly. It was something I had known before, of course, but dripping in water, with the way her gasping breaths jiggled her chest, I was forced to admit…

“Damn,” I said feelingly. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

I had been planning to clean her off just enough to keep the house from being a mess, but instead I found myself licking my lips as I trailied a finger up her leg.

Miranda, I knew, would have jerked away from my touch, at least if she had seen it coming. Sydney, however, moved into it, and without a shred of reluctance.

There was fear in her eyes, of course, but there had always been fear in her, and it didn’t stop the way she moved to stay in contact with me, even as my finger pulled away, or the silent gasp that I saw more than heard.

“You’re ready to be a good pet, aren’t you?” I stated more than asked, returning the finger to circle the small of her back, and she shuddered in my hand.

“Y-yes, Master,” Sydney gasped. “Please, Master. Whatever you want. Wha-whatever you want, Master, I’ll be good. I’ll be yours.”

I wasn’t sure if she was overacting, or if Miranda was just that good at hiding how much she felt at my touch, but either way this responsiveness was a nice change of pace. Slowly, I dragged my fingertip up her back, gently applying pressure between her shoulder blades for an instant, before I moved it to her neck, and the collar she still wore on it.

Before she could react, it released and fell into my hand, and Sydney gave a sound of relief that had to be as much physical as it was psychological; they weren’t actually meant to be worn all the time, after all, just as a tool for identification when leaving the home. There was a red ring around her throat already where it had begun to chafe.

I locked the ends together and tossed it lightly in my palm a few times, before losing interest and placing the collar into my pocket.

One of my many preparations for Miranda included a bottle of Min-friendly body wash at the sink for just such an occasion. There was a strange irony to the fact I was doing this for someone else, but I had reached at point where I didn’t care: here, at least, a woman lay in my hand, naked, and if she was not eager than she was still willing. Sydney looked up at me with wide eyes, legs spread and almost seeming to pose in my grasp as I squirted out a dab of soap on my index finger.

“My good pet.” I commanded.

“Yours.” she begged.

Sensitivity or not, there was no way she wanted me, the man who had nearly ripped her arm off not so long ago, in any genuine fashion. She still flinched every time she saw me, cringed at my every move. Even if she was into that kind of treatment, it wouldn’t explain such a quick turnaround.

This was clearly nothing more than a desperate attempt to protect herself with only asset she had available to her, to try and buy herself favorable treatment with her body.

But that was the thing about Mins, wasn’t it? The feelings didn’t have to be real, just the obedience. Devotion would come in time, after all, with Stockholm Syndrome and Giant’s Allure, and even if it didn’t, even if it continued to be nothing more than an act…

What did it matter? I didn’t care about her feelings, I just wanted her body and her willingness. There was no way for her to betray me, or harm me, or steal from me, like a traditional gold digger could; I owned her. What else could Sydney do but continue to play along, if only for her own safety?

I grinned the shark’s grin, and for a moment she froze, facade breaking at what she saw in it.

“Mine.”

Once again, Sydney had made a choice without fully understanding the situation. Once again, I didn’t care to correct her mistake.

As I rubbed my fingers and thumb together, spreading out the soap, her expression return to ‘lustful’, and she cooed appreciative as I began to slowly massage it onto her stomach, twisting and turning in my hand with every indication of delight. Still, the act grated on me, and before too long I cut in.

“Enough.” I told her finally. She stared at me with genuine confusion, so I elaborated. “The act. I know you’re putting on a show, and I-”

“No!” Sydney yelled in sudden terror. Then she winced as she realized she had interrupted me, before she kept protesting anyways. “Master! I, I wouldn’t dare to… I mean, I…”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. Oh, physically you may be enjoying it to some extent…”

I ran my finger over the stiffened tips of her breasts, before dragging it between her legs, ignoring the way she yelped and squirmed at my suddenly rough treatment. Pinching the liquid now coating it between my fingers, I showed Sydney how it stuck to my skin as she blushed violently.

“And that’s good and all, but you make it sound like you’re going to cum, here and now, and we haven’t even started the heavy petting. I know you think I’m a madman, but do me the common courtesy to stop pretending I’m stupid as well. I’m using you for my own reasons, you’re letting me use you for yours. I’m not here to make you feel good, Sydney, I’m here to get my own pleasure from using you.”

Pushing my finger onto her mouth, I held it there until she gave in to my unspoken demand and began to lap at her own fluids meekly. As I felt the tiny little muscle’s touch against my fingertip, I smiled.

“Just like that. Good girl. You’re nothing more than my toy, Sydney, and you’ll never be anything more than that. Don’t act otherwise. Don’t get airs about your own importance. You can call me Master all you want, and fawn over my every word, begging for attention you’re too afraid to enjoy; we both know you’ll mean it soon enough, even if it’s just an act at the moment. But there’s no point in you trying to fluff up my ego. You can have as dramatic an ‘orgasm’ as you want, Sydney, and you’ll still be in the exact same place as you’d be if you didn’t go through the bother: here. Being held in my hands, being touched and toyed with as I please, and unable to do anything about it.”

I tightened my grip on her slightly, and brought my other finger up, rubbing it over her face, coating her face in her own drippings.

“And if you like it? If it makes you feel valued? Safe? Wanted? Good for you. If you feel violated? Used? Worthless? Too bad: that’s your problem, not mine. Your opinions, Sydney, are just as worthless as your attempts to resist me. Your only value lies in your body, and your ability to do as you are told. Clear?”

At some point during all this her flush had grown and spread until her shoulders and the tops of her breasts were all scarlet red. Sydney looked at me, panting slightly, face still smeared with her own lubricant, and let out a breathy sigh that sounded more genuine than every sound she’d made thus far.

“Of course, Master.”

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As an interesting note, I’ll admit I took the ‘aren’t you even just a little bit curious’ line from a dark comedy video I found on youtube, and I kind of wrote this to the classic Lavender Town theme.

As one of those lore-y side notes, Giant’s Allure isn’t something I think will be naturally explained, so I’ll just spell it out. There’s studies out there that say that taller people get paid X amount more than people of average height, right? Giant’s Allure refers to something past that, past the point where the pay gap stops (I… think that’s a thing? If you’re tall enough that stops being a thing? Don’t quote me obviously), to where one person is so much larger than the other that it humbles the smaller person, makes them meek and subordinate.

It’s a theoretically sweet spot, basically, about how big someone has to be to command someone smaller, as well as a theory to help explain how oddly obedient Mins are to normal sized people, and how easy they seem to fall in love/worship to them, though there’s significant academic conflict if there’s just something biologically different in them, or maybe both. Because of her ‘great’ size, BTW, Sydney is actually of some non-insignificant interest to those who want to try and test to find that point. They hope they can place her in front of a child and find a point where the magic obedience charisma stops working, though for obvious reasons there’s so many other things happening that it never goes anywhere.

…Is there a way to modify the tags on a thread? It’s occurring to me I should probably have something like ‘dark’ or ‘psychological’ on my story, as a fair warning to readers, but I’m not sure if I can.