Posts made by i am insane

I’m pretty sure this is by Jitensha, actully.

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

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

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

Always nice to see more talent show up. Welcome!

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

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

@inkchild
Thanks! That means a lot to me!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, Sydney.”

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

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

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

“Shut up.” I spat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“First things first: on your knees.”

“But I-”

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

“On your knees.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Deliberately, I pointed forward towards Miranda.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you like to to do the honors?”

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

Sydney, of course, was a different story

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

“Really, Ian? Can I?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again, I was surprised by how fast the process was; bureaucracy, in my experience, was a thing of many forms and periods of waiting, often followed by even more waiting. Outside of the changes I had made, getting Miranda had been a process of several days, assumably with whatever work she may have done on her end to help the process along; for Sydney, I had expected at least a week.

Instead, when I called the DMC, I had an appointment made for an hour later.

As it turned out, Sydney was on a list of Mins with that, by default, accepted anyone interested in her as a potential host. Since I was already in the system at this point, all we needed was that one meeting, and, if she agreed, I could walk out with her.

Miranda only snorted when I explained this to her, looking amused at my ignorance from her lofty position atop the left armrest, sitting just in front of my hand. My agreement to help her get revenge had helped her relax around me, somewhat. There was still a wary look in her eye when she saw me, but she seemed willing to have an actual conversation with me now.

“Of course she’s on the list, Ian: everyone I’ve ever met there was on the list. Hell, I was on the list.”

I didn’t say anything, absently watching her little legs as they dangled in the air, but Miranda glanced at my face and continued to explain, her tone serious now. “No one wants to be there, Ian, and when you Min, you feel… abandoned. The world hates you, your friends and family give up on you, and you’re left in the Kennel to rot. Everyone has heard a story of someone whos ends up living in a bird cage or something, just a living decoration for their Master to enjoy, but even so most would take that, because at least then they’re wanted. Someone looked at hundreds or thousands of Mins crawling around their feet and picked you out, out of all them clamoring for attention; and maybe it’s because you’re blond, or you have big boobs, or a nice voice, and sure, maybe you end up spending your days on that perch, singing sweet songs and being fed table scraps, but at least it’s you doing it, at least you are the one worthy enough to get even that much. Even if he looks at you like a toy, well…”

Miranda trailed off, before finishing bitterly, “At least he’s looking at you.”

She didn’t say anything for a minute.

“I always knew, you know.” Miranda started abruptly, staring off toward the door. “That you’d take me, I mean. We never talked much, but your Change came up awhile ago, so you were safe, and your willingness was… obvious. When you’re first picked up, they always ask if there’s anyone who might be able to take you in, and I knew, in that instant, that all I had to was ask. Mia was right, most Mins would kill for an opportunity like that.”

“Why?” I croaked, my voice hoarse with the weight of the question that had been burning in me for weeks now. “Why didn’t you? Why did you wait so long to ask?”

She sighed. “Fear, at least in part. Fear, and me lying to myself. I… never really liked you, Ian, you know that. You were always nice enough, but you’d look at me and you were always so… intense about it. Hungry, even. There are creepier ways a man can look at you, I admit, but it was more than just wanting to see me naked, or to rape me, it was like you wanted to own me, to put me a box on your shelf or something.”

Miranda paused, and blushed. “I’ll admit, part of me thought it was nice, to get that much of reaction from you, to have a man just look at me and fall madly for my charms, but it was also scary Ian. You never pushed me, you never did anything you shouldn’t, but it was like being a piece of meat in a room with a well trained dog: even if it’s not doing anything, you know it’s just a few words away from gulping you down. And then I Min’d and…”

She shuddered. “It scared me. You scared me, Ian; you still do. Even now, you’re still that dog, just as hungry as ever, still patiently eyeing me, waiting for that word to pounce. Only now you’re a dog as big as a house, looming over me with drool dripping from those big sharp teeth of yours, so close I can feel your breath threaten to knock me over, and there’s nothing holding you back: no leash, no collar, nothing but your willingness to obey.”

Almost unconsciously I found myself brushing a finger under my lips, looking for anything wet, and she laughed, sounding slightly hysterical.

“It’s… a little intoxicating, really, to have something as big as you are listen to me, to have that kind of power under my command.” Miranda smiled at me, excitement dancing in her eyes, mixed with with something darker. “But it’s dangerous, too: it’s all too easy to forget that the power isn’t mine, not really. You’re just letting me use it, and you could just as easily take it away.”

“I wouldn’t-” I begin, only to stop after a moment as I realized how intensely I was staring. WIthout realizing it, I found myself licking my lips, and she giggled.

“Face it, Ian,” Miranda said, patting my hand gently. “You would. You really would.”

Then the amusement left her face. “As for the other reason… just before it happened, Jarrett and I got in a fight. A big one. I left that day angry, and when he didn’t answer the request, I thought… he was just mad at me. That he was trying to punish me, and after a day or two, he’d come get me. Days turned to weeks, and there was still no word. It was a month in when I finally accepted the obvious: Jarrett didn’t want anything to do with me. If he had, he would have picked me up that day, fight or not.”

Slowly, I lifted up my hand and moved it towards her, one finger extended. Miranda watched it for a moment, face carefully blank even as her eyes glittered with the faintest hint of tears, but ultimately gave a little half shrug of her shoulder that I took as permission. Gently, I ran the finger tip down her back and she stiffened for a moment at the touch, before relaxing and leaning into my touch.

“That realization hit me harder than I would have liked,” Miranda continued, her tone admirably calm. “And it took me a while to get over it. Him. I… I thought were were getting pretty serious, before all of this. We were arguing about me moving in with him. He was for it, I wasn’t sure yet.”

She let out a shuddering breath. “Can you imagine, Ian? How fast everything changed? Just a day ago he was almost begging me to move in with him, but when I needed him to take me in, what does he do?”

She laughed again, sounding at the edge of tears. “He just gave up on me, Ian! He didn’t even have the courtesy to give me a ‘No’!”

For a minute, I thought she was going to cry again; I was sure she was at the edge of it. For whatever reason, though, Miranda pulled herself together, and wiped her face with the face of her arm instead.

“If… if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be alone for awhile, Ian.” No matter how she phrased it, it was a question, and both of us knew it. I didn’t have to listen to her, and more than that I didn’t want to listen to her. I didn’t want to let her go, much less when she was feeling so vulnerable… but she wanted to, and we were doing so much better, now; I didn’t want to ruin everything just because I was impatient.

When I laid my hand back on the armrest, Miranda smiled up at me, surprised and pleased all at once. Guilt bubbled in my stomach at the fact that respecting her even that much was something so hard for me to do, and so unexpected for her to receive, even as her joy soothed the edge of my shame.

“Thank you, Ian.” She sniffled a little. “I appreciate this. I’ll… I’ll be back by the time you come back from the Kennel.”

And then, before I could say anything, she slipped off the chair, slid down my leg, and ran off into the house.

xxx

Scale Woman nodded to me politely. “Good to see you again, Mr. Hunter.”

“And you.” I replied briefly, since I still had no idea what her name actually was.

She huffed slightly, apparently just as unimpressed with me as ever. “If you’ll follow me, you meeting is rig-”

“Wait.” Scale Woman raised an eyebrow at my interruption, but let me continue anyways. “When I called, I had a… request.”

I had asked for Sydney by name when I called, but before I hung up I took a risk and asked that my interest in her in particular be kept from the Min. The man on the line had given me some bland reassurances, but I didn’t actully know if they had followed through on it or not.

Something about that must have interested her, because the boredom in her gaze vanished, and she examined me with mild interest.

“Yes, Mr. Hunter, your… request.” She emphasized the word with a mocking grin. “Rest assured, we did not tell her you were looking for ‘Sydney Wilson’, but simply that her criteria met your interest.”

“And she believed that?”

And there was the contempt again. “Sydney is the largest Min in our facilities, one of the largest Mins on record, to be frank. She’s used to getting more attention than the norm.”

Apparently done with the conversation, she turned on her heel and strode off, forcing me to follow her.

xxx

As it turned out, Scale Woman hadn’t exaggerated: the Min waiting for me atop the table in the meeting room was the biggest I’d ever seen, bar none. Miranda was on the high end, I knew, but Sydney must have been twice her height, easy; it was no surprise she was able to so easily push her around. She was also, I realized as I took in the form of the lithe creature before, drop dead gorgeous: warm bronze skin complemented by night black hair, long enough to reach her feet and artfully arranged to give her modesty, which only served to highlight all the features it hid. Over all, the effect only served to grant her an appearance even more sensual than just bared skin would have provided.

Sitting there, legs demurely folded beneath her as she waited for me, Sydney Wilson looked like nothing less than a fey creature out of a story, an exotic beauty that, in other circumstances, I would never be worthy to even approach.

Part of me wondered if I would see her adorning the cover of a magazine or two, if I was to investigate her in any depth. The rest of me had realized that this creature, small as it was, had hurt Miranda, and that anger helped shield me from being overwhelmed by her charms.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Scale Woman watch me with what I could only believe was approval on her face I proceeded to the chair without making a fool of myself.

Sydney straightened up and began to examine me in turn, and I took the time it afforded me to examine my feelings on her. Normally, I knew, the idea of someone hurting Miranda would have filled me with a burning rage, but looking at this woman, it was somehow too… personal an emotion to feel for her. She was too small for me to truly hate in that way, too weak. I didn’t like her, but I felt no overwhelming desire to cause her pain, either.

I’d do it, of course, but it was good to realize I wouldn’t end up killing her in some fit of rage; that’d be far too quick for what I had in mind.

“I have one question for you.” Sydney said, in a melodious voice. “Will there…”

She sighed suddenly, and slumped on the table, the ethereal air she had maintained gone in an instant, leaving only a Min as it left. She looked tired and defeated as she stared at me, and held her arms up as if to accept handcuffs. “Will there be diapers?”

What.

“What?”

“Five months ago, an old man came and tried to take me.” Sydney gritted out through clenched teeth. “He delighted in telling me about how he’d keep me in a cradle, make me wear diapers, feed me from a bottle, and in general treat me like an infant, and how wonderful it was that I was so large.”

What the fuck.

“I turned him down, obviously, and you’re the first person who has met me since then with a desire to take me home. I’m willing to put up with a lot of things, Mr. Hunter,” Sydney continued, staring me in the eye. “I doubt you’re going to be kind to me, and I accept that, but being infantilized like that is where I draw the line.”

“I’m not going to put you in diapers.” I sputtered incredulously.

I planned on humiliating her, obviously, and hurting her, but I had no interest in that.

She stared at me critically, but the sheer disgust at the idea must have been clear on my face, because after a moment she nodded. “Then I accept your generous offer… Master.”

---

Fun fact: DMC stands for Department of Minimal Control. Yes, the name is a tad ironic, and people are aware of that. Though the slang for shrunken women in this setting is ‘Min’ in common usage, more technically it stands for a ‘Minimal’. It’s also a verb, though, for ‘Minimizing’, which is the technical term for a woman shrinking and becoming a Min.

Surprisingly enough, I didn’t actully consult a Random Name Generator for Ian’s last name.

BTW, I’m curious: what is the impression you’re all getting of Ian’s personality thus far? I know what I’m going for, but I’m not sure how well it’s getting across.

When you making a post, it saves what you’re saying pretty frequently while you’re writing it. Could we get an undo button? And an option to save a draft, so you can write something, and then come back to it like a week later without losing everything?

So, given the opportunity, what games would you play with shrunken women? To be perfectly clear, ‘with’ here means that she’s not on the other side of the board, she’s part of the board.

I’m working on an idea for a story and this came to me: chess or checkers, where every piece is a tiny woman, each in elaborate (or skimpy. Or elaborately skimpy, depending; my example that started this has giants hiring prostitutes to use as pieces, so the apparel would match their budget) outfits with matching colors. Each captured piece goes to the one who captures them, the winner gets all the remaining pieces on the board; no one leaves alone. Or, quite frankly, in a group of less than two digits.

For promotions, in the context I’m envisioning, there’s little crowns to give to the new queens or whatnot to symbolize the change, but in other versions, pieces are arranged by size, and are grown when promoted to match their new roles.

There’s also tournaments, which play by different rules: each player keeps the pieces they capture, yes, but the surviving pieces remain on the board and the open positions are restocked from the large general pool of women prepared beforehand. It’s an elimination style match, so the first out have a fraction of the prizes of those of, say, a semi finalist, and the champion is the one who claims the board, including both Empresses (aka the Kings), who are for that final match prepared with particular style for the occasion… I’m thinking wearing only a crown and covered in edible paint.

Depending on the available pool of pieces, if there’s not enough for later games an equal amount of captured pieces from every one’s pools will be removed to sub in, with a certain minimum maintained so, again, no one leaves alone.

I’m a giant, passing a village/city/town of little people, and I just don’t give a fuck about them, but they’re worried about me. Very worried.

Worried enough that, in their fear of what I could do to them, they launch a preemptive strike against me… which fails miserably. But now? Now I’m pissed off, and while I didn’t start it, I’m going to finish it.

It’s not a war, it’s not even a fight, it’s just breaking toys. Walls are smashed, homes, are crushed, all their resistance against me is completely meaningless as I destroy their lives.

And then they come to beg for their lives, and for mercy from the disaster they caused.