Posts made by i am insane

I’ve always been a Final Fantasy fan, and my top pics would be Yuna and Tifa.

@seru
The time lock is gone, but I’m still getting:
ERROR
Post content was flagged as spam by Akismet.com

@seru
Nope. Literally just hit enter three times or so on it.

I tried it again, it still had my proposed edits saved, but now it’s saying:
ERROR
You are only allowed to edit posts for 3600 second(s) after posting

I was trying to put a little edit on my story post (putting a couple more lines of space between the writing and the notes) and I’m getting hit with ‘this post is spam’ error.

The conception of it, for me, was princesses and dragons; the older stories always had a dragon kidnapping a princess, and I’ve always like dragons. It evolved from there, but that fundamental concept of going, ‘MINE!’ still resonates with me.

Giant decides to protect tiny out of annoyed exasperation that this helpless thing has that little survival instinct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I pointed down the hall.

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

I paused and let that sink in before I continued.

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

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

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

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

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

…

Fuck it.

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

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

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

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

Her nerve broke.

“Well?” She snapped.

I smiled. “Well what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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