Best posts made by littlest-lily

Chapter 3

I don’t even have time to blink before he leans forward and presses his mouth onto mine, and at first my eyes widen at the sight of his face, so close that it’s blurry. But I don’t pull away. He pushes harder against me and I hold firm, eyelashes fluttering, breath growing shallow. When he pulls away again I’m left utterly longing.

I try to fight it. Really I do. I try so hard to snap out of it and step away from this man who’s confusing me to no end.

“Ryder,” I whisper, “I… I just, I hardly know you and–”

A powerful wave of dizziness passes through me, taking a good three seconds to disorient me before it’s gone. One… Two… What… just happened? I blink, slowly and deliberately. Huh. I thought I was going to pass out for a moment there, but everything’s fine now. I feel very… very… calm.

Ryder doesn’t seem to have noticed a thing. His cheeks are the slightest bit flush from the intimacy, and he’s still holding my hands in his. He squeezes my fingers as he responds to me.

“I’d like to change that, Isabelle. Like I said, I want to get to know you. I want to discover what makes you tick. Because I have a feeling I’m going to like what I find.”

It’s like my sense of reason has drifted down a river. And I don’t just mean because of hormones. I can’t put my finger on it - it feels like a deliberate and forceful thing somehow…

I mean, okay, thoughts haven’t completely left me. I’m aware of where I am. I’m aware that this entire conversation has been intensely bizarre. I’m aware of the fact that what this man just did might even count as assault. And yet all of these buzzing thoughts are so quiet, so distant. There’s a powerful tranquility in my heart that makes me listen to him, makes me want to open up.

“I don’t know if you’re going to find anything that interesting,” I say softly, “You’ve already figured me out. You’re right, I don’t like to stand out. There isn’t some dramatic reason behind it, I wasn’t traumatized as a child or anything like that. It was just a lot of little things throughout my life, I guess. My parents had pretty high expectations of me from a young age, academically at least. I always hated when the teachers called on me, which happened often. My growth spurt happened really early so I literally stuck out. Ugh, I remember one of the boys in middle school would call me Sasquatch. So many times I wish I could just vanish.”

Ryder doesn’t interrupt me, just listens with a gentle smile on his face and then nods sympathetically when I’m done. “I see…” he says thoughtfully, “You really are hung up on your height, aren’t you?”

“I’m the tallest girl in any of my friend groups. I fell for a guy in high school who rejected me because I was taller than him. I’ve always hated how I look.”

“Well that’s a shame. Because I think you’re adorable, Isabelle. Just look at those big, dark, puppy dog eyes of yours.” He reaches both hands up to take my face in them, the blurry edges of his thumbs just in my line of sight. “You’re as cute as a squirrel. Maybe before this is over you’ll be able to see yourself through my eyes.”

I feel another weird sensation. It’s different this time, more subdued, but after a split second of vertigo I see something that makes me gasp. I’m still looking at Ryder in front of me, gazing up at his chiseled face and entrancing blue eyes. But a different image suddenly superimposes itself in my vision. As if seeing something vividly in my mind’s eye, so vividly that I question what’s real for a moment.

It’s an image of me. Dark eyes looking up in a bit of a pout, mouth slightly ajar, cheeks pink with blush. But it’s not quite like looking at myself in a mirror, it’s from a higher vantage point. And in the vision there are large hands framing the sides of my face.

I jerk back and just like that, the image is gone. I blink furiously and start rubbing at my eyes, knocking away Ryder’s hands in the process. When I cover my face so that I see nothing but darkness, I can still picture it - his face as well as my own.

“Is something wrong?” the soft male voice asks from inches away.

“N-no…” I stutter, “I’m just… I’m… I… ”

Ryder chuckles. “Use your words.”

“Something weird is happening,” I finally confess.

“I have that effect on people.”

“No, that’s not what I mean–”

I groan, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyelids. Out of nowhere my entire body grows warm for a second, a flash of heat lining every square inch of my skin. It’s over before I know it, but I’m disoriented, wavering in place. I take a step back to keep myself from falling over.

“What is it?” Ryder asks.

“I feel dizzy,” I say faintly.

“Best sit down, then.”

My hands are still over my eyes, but his hands firmly take me by the shoulders and slowly turn me around, guiding my movements and making me step backwards. I feel the desk chair against the back of my legs and plop down into it. When I pull my hands away, Ryder’s taking a seat on his bed, our positions now switched.

As I stare at him, I suddenly feel the heat overtake me once more. My entire body is warm right on my skin, and I feel like I’m moving, somehow, even though I know I’m sitting still. And then it all stops again. What is wrong with me? Between the dizziness and the heat flashes and the strange visions, I’m clearly having some very alarming symptoms. In a normal situation I’d be panicking right about now. I’d be calling a doctor, or asking for a ride to the hospital, or Googling furiously to figure out why I’m dying.

But that tranquility that’s been dominating my mind hasn’t quite left me, and I’m still unable to reason properly. All it takes is for me to look into Ryder’s eyes again to feel reassured. As if I’m just being a little silly. Clearly I’m not dying. I’m not even in pain. Everything’s fine.

There’s the heat once again. And this time I realize what that accompanying movement is. As if I was subtly shifting and thus sensing my clothes more as a result, even though I’m not budging. I feel it the most at my feet. As I sit there, warmth kissing my skin like the sun, I notice that my heels aren’t flat against the ground, in fact they’re slowly pivoting so that I’m more and more on my tiptoes. The heat dissipates and things become still, but my feet are barely touching the floor.

I frown, trying to make sense of it. I move my awareness past my legs and take a quick glance around the room. Something is so off. But the conclusion I draw makes no sense.

“Can you see this?” I ask out loud. Maybe I’m going crazy. Odd how the thought doesn’t particularly worry me.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Ryder responds, corner of his mouth ticking up.

“My feet are off the ground. They were touching the floor just a second ago."

“Huh, so they are. Wonder why that is…" His gaze is still intent on me, and then he reaches a hand out. “Come get your bearings."

His arm is long enough that I barely need to extend mine. My hand is drawn to his like a magnet. And as soon as I make contact I feel a shiver down my spine.

Except… it’s a shiver of pleasure. There’s a not-unpleasant swirling at the pit of my stomach and I worry self-consciously that my palms have started sweating. I find myself biting my lip and am acutely aware of how much I’m blushing right now. I don’t say a word, afraid of what sound might come out if I open my mouth.

Ryder’s fingers close around mine and he helps me back to my feet without standing up from the bed. I gawk at his face as I get up. God, he’s so hot. I’m so captivated that I can think of nothing else for a moment. That stirring at the base of my abdomen is unignorable at this point as I feel increasingly aroused. I know this isn’t the time, but I can’t fucking help it as something as simple as him holding my hand is driving me insane right now. The muscles between my legs tighten uncontrollably.

Finally I yank my eyes away and take a look around myself. Now that I’m standing the change is unmistakable. I’m shorter. Like… a good five or six inches shorter than I was a few minutes ago. If my sweatshirt was oversized before, I’m starting to look like a kid wearing their parent’s clothing. What… in the actual fuck…?

Holy shit, it’s happening again. As I feel the warmth fill my body, I’m able to anticipate it this time, and I watch the changes in my environment. The shelf that used to be at my chin height and had then met my eyeline is now rising to be taller than me. The carpet strands of the shaggy rug I’m standing on tickle my feet as they stretch up towards my ankles. And the butterflies in my stomach are swirling and swirling as Ryder’s hand seems to swell around my own. My face is flushing, the pleasure is insanely distracting. I let out a gasp, but it sounds more like something from an erotic film than one of distress.

The heat dissipates right as my shorts and underwear fall to the floor.

My breath comes in short as I look around wide-eyed. I’ve imagined so many times what it might be like to be shorter, but this is ridiculous. “Something’s happening, Ryder,” I choke out.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he responds, amused. He’s still holding my hand and I don’t resist him when he pulls me closer to him. I don’t even question how nonchalant he’s being. “If I had to guess, it looks like you’re only about… hmmm, maybe four… four and half feet tall? And we were just talking about how much you hated your height.”

Even though he’s sitting and I’m standing, my eye level is slightly below his. My sweatshirt is big enough to be like a dress - a rather revealing one, but it covers my butt nevertheless. Ryder lets go of my hand and instead reaches down to my leg, just under the hem of my hoodie. His fingers wrap around my bare thigh without any hesitation, and he gently begins massaging it. I’m unable to suppress the quiet moan this elicits. Despite what should probably be seen as an emergency, his touch is just so enchanting.

And then he gives my leg a tighter squeeze and it’s suddenly all so obvious. Right as he puts on the pressure, I feel a wave of heat and I lose another inch or two right then and there.

“Starting to see why we’re compatible?” Ryder asks with a smirk.

I blink at him, bewildered. “You’re doing this, aren’t you?” I confront.

His smirk becomes a grin. “Busted.”

“You’re doing something to my brain,” I say, short of breath from my cocktail of apprehension and arousal. “You’re making me okay with this even though I shouldn’t be.”

“‘Making you’ is a little strong. It’s all within you, Isabelle. I’m just helping it come to the surface.”

I shake my head in weak protest. Finding my words is like grasping at smoke. “No, that… that’s not…”

And there’s that influx of calm. As if a dose of anesthetics was being pumped straight into my veins, immediately sedating the rising fear. I can’t think straight, but that doesn’t seem to really matter right now. There’s nothing to worry about. Ryder’s here with me, everything’s alright.

He’s massaging my thigh again and I manage to stay on my feet despite feeling weak in the knees. My chest heaves under the heavy weight of my shirt and hoodie. And I’m slowly shrinking again, I’m warm and I’m wet and I’m gasping for air. As I lose height, his comparatively growing hand, despite staying level, naturally makes its way higher up my leg, under the edge of my clothes. The fingers open up as I dwindle, ready to gently catch my descending rear. He feels me up, and now I’m seeing the signs of lust in his eyes. My hands clench into fists at my side as I put all of my energy into the simple act of standing upright under the force of all the other sensations crashing down over me like the ocean.

After a few moments of fondling and caressing, Ryder switches gears. His hand traces along the side of my hip, he slips it between my legs, and then smoothly inserts his middle finger inside me. I gasp and sigh and moan, squeezing my eyes shut as my body contracts. Even though it’s just one finger, I can feel it expanding and all of my muscles are tightening around it. The digit curls in, pleasuring me with a confident ease. Despite the tranquility that’s covering me like a weighted blanket, my heart is racing as the ecstasy builds and builds.

“Let’s see if we can peel back some of those layers,” the growing man murmurs, “Uncover the real you… Will you come on this journey with me?”

I open my eyes and look up at him - yes, I’m having to look way up despite him sitting on his bed - and he’s wearing a cocky smirk.

“Get it?” he says, hand squeezing, “Come?”

I yelp as I release, my juices flooding his generous fingers, the warmth no longer from the shrinking effect but from my own overwhelming lustful flame. My knees finally give out.

@Olo As much as it’s not my thing personally, I do think there are more reasons to want to see your favorite characters in sizey scenarios outside of limited access. I can absolutely see the fun and excitement in taking a character you love and wondering about how they might fit into your fantasies. Beloved characters bring us comfort, spark our creativity, and yes, get our more “primal” urges going sometimes 🤭

Personally I think it’s just a matter of preference - at least that’s the case for me! It is interesting that I have also noticed the (general) trend of it being mostly men who have the “which celebrity/character” discussion. But I don’t think that necessarily makes it “wrong" or anything, just like many other facets about these fantasies. It’s an interesting discussion in any case!

@foreverlurk Contrary to what was illustrated, she’s got him wrapped around her tiny little pinkie

@SmolChlo @Olo You guys are the best

@Olo Oh how the tables have turned (not that I’m a big Twilight fan, but I was a bit frustrated by the sheer amount of hate that it got)

@SmolChlo Argh I want to reach this level of comfy so bad.

Also I’m having an intrusive thought of someone snapping that thing closed and whisking her away

Chapter 9

Isabelle? Say something.

I’m roused by the sound of a familiar voice. Odd that it’s not completely rocking my world right now. Oh… right, that’s because it’s in my head.

Does it have to be out loud? I wonder.

I feel the chuckle a lot more intensely now that he uses his mouth. "Okay good. I’ve got you mentally, now I just need to find you… physically.”

My eyelids slowly blink open and my gaze rolls around dizzily. Ugh. Things got a little too intense there. I must have blacked out for a second. What happened again? For a moment I don’t bother to move but just try to make sense of the landscape. I remember plummeting… And whatever I’m laying on doesn’t feel alive… I probably landed on the bed sheets again? That would explain why the floor and walls are navy. Huh, the sky is flesh colored.

Oh. Duhhhh. There’s my giant. I was so busy looking for a mountain that I didn’t realize how close Ryder was. The vast expanse of his skin is only about a hundred feet or so above me.

“You probably shouldn’t move too much,” I say with a giggle.

“I’m holding as still as I can,” he responds with a slightly amused tone as well. “I don’t see you anywhere… This is a bit of a pickle, isn’t it? Are you not on me anymore?”

“Nope. You got some good distance there. That was so awesome, Ryder… I came so hard too…”

“As happy as I am to hear that, sweetheart, I’m going to keep focusing on figuring out where you went.”

“Heh. I’m like… under some part of you. I dunno, you can probably get up, just go straight upwards and don’t move around.” I stretch my arms above my head as if having just woken up from a relaxing nap. Then I slowly sit upright and look around some more. “Ooo, there’s a fold in the fabric that looks like a cave. Imma go in there.”

“Alright, go hunker down,” Ryder says with a smile in his voice. After a few moments, once I’ve crawled into the dim shelter, he says, “Brace yourself…”

It was probably a good idea that I went in here. I’m sure he’s being careful, but the ceiling of skin briefly approaches with a reverberating creak of the bed before it pulls away. Suddenly there’s a lot more light and I’m feeling far more alert. I peek out of the bedsheet cave in time to see the titanic body grow more distant as the giant gets up before turning back towards the bed.

I still have trouble making sense of him, but I think I had previously just been sitting either under the curve of his waist or a protruding forearm. Wow, yeah, that was some serious distance indeed. No wonder I passed out. Thankfully I didn’t, like… die.

“Where are you, little speck?” Ryder sings, and I go from only being able to take in his stomach and chest, to finally being able to properly see his face again as he crouches down.

I hold still, probably more still than I should, as I’m transfixed by his every magnified movement. This is so ridiculous. He’s a force of nature to me, like a supercell rolling in. I tremble as I stare at the way his mouth forms words.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are… Heh, are you hating that you’re the center of attention right now? After putting all that effort over the years trying to pass unnoticed.” He pauses, giving me enough time to blush fervently, before saying, “No… You’re loving it, aren’t you? You’re enjoying me witnessing how little of you there is left. For me to know you’re around, to be looking for you, but you’re just so easy to pass by…”

As if on cue, his gaze moves right over the fold of fabric that I’m in. And yet he didn’t even pause, he simply didn’t realize that I’m there. My breath catches and shudders on the exhale.

“But I’m going to find you, Isabelle,” Ryder hums, “Actually, I like your idea from earlier. Let me just take a quick look through your eyes.”

I feel his presence, as if he’s just behind me and leaning his chin on my shoulder. It’s not unlike when he speaks to me telepathically, even though he’s quiet. I watch as the distant titan seems to gaze off into space and then he mumbles, “Okay… There I am…”

It takes a few more moments as he gets his bearings, using both his vision and mine. His face turns in my direction, goes a tad too far, course corrects. His brilliant blue eyes go a little too high… a bit too far to the right… then they settle into place.

“…And there you are.”

His presence vanishes from my shoulder and all I have now is his much bigger self outside, leaning in towards my cave, reaching a hand up, extending a finger. It comes closer and closer, as big as a redwood tree, and it gingerly enters the mouth of the cave so that it can push the fold of fabric away to properly reveal me. Light bathes the area, but my eyes are still wide as I blink up at him. His face takes up most of my vision.

“Hi,” he booms with a grin.

“H-hi,” I weakly respond.

Ryder’s forefinger lingers, coming dangerously close. It hovers beside me, then it lands on the fabric, and I almost fall into the indent it creates.

“Jesus,” he mutters, “You’re literally the size of a flea. I want to pick you up but I’m not sure how to do that at this point.”

I rip my sights away from his face to take a closer look at his fingertip. I wonder if I could scale up the ridges… The digit is two or three stories thick so it would be quite the climb. But before I can suggest anything, the giant sits back up straighter and says, “Oh wait, I have an idea.”

I yelp at his finger rocketing away, and I wait out the maelstrom of movement as Ryder turns around and stretches an arm towards where I know his desk is. He scrambles a hand around until finally finding what he had in mind, then he turns back around, holding something white and flat. It takes him a few moments to find me again.

“Here, crawl up onto this,” he orders, the monumental business card coming in for a landing. When it touches down it creates a gust of wind that momentarily knocks me over. Thankfully it didn’t blow me away completely.

I hesitate, taking in the detail of the cardstock. From my perspective, the white card is several inches thick. And since it’s not lying completely flat on the uneven bed sheets, I can’t even simply step aboard, I’m going to have to hoist myself up. I take a deep breath and make my way to the platform, passing over the bumps of the navy blue threads. Eventually I manage to scramble up onto the business card. I can feel the slight vibrations in the ground simply from the fact that Ryder has his fingers pinched around it, reminding me that the human body is incapable of staying completely still. I find myself hurrying towards the center of the rectangle, wanting to get as close as I can before he decides to start moving in earnest.

“Where are you going?” the titan asks, sounding amused. I glance up at his face that is currently my sky.

“Away from the edge,” I explain.

“Not much point in that,” he chuckles, “I still want you on me…”

I gasp and immediately fall over as the ground lurches. For a brief moment it’s like I’m on an Olympic pool-sized elevator that’s shooting upwards, but then there’s a pause before the ground starts tilting instead. Disoriented, I begin sliding, but the texture of the paper at this size is bumpy and not exactly slippery against my bare skin, so I quickly transition into a roll and a tumble until I land with a grunt onto warm flesh.

“See?” he thunders, “I just needed to transfer you. Now you’re safe and sound on the tip of my finger.”

I roll over onto my back, wincing from the intensity of that transfer. “Oh, okay. Cool,” I sigh with a smile and an eye roll.

I get up to hands and knees just in time to feel downward pressure from the g-force of the finger lifting up. For a moment I’m staring at the skin that I’m crouched on, marveling at its texture, noticing how a single ridge in his fingerprint fills my hand like the curve of a large water bottle. I extend my attention to the rest of the perch that I’m on, the pad of his finger about thirty feet wide - huge if you consider it’s a fingertip, not so huge once I think about how dire it would be if I fell over the side. And then finally I look up, up at the approaching blue of a massive iris, as Ryder brings me closer and closer to one of his eyes. I stare and swoon at the pools of cerulean that I could swim in.

“It’s definitely harder to make out your face… “ the giant murmurs, squinting. “But there’s your head, so those must be the arms…”

The brief break as he examines me gives me enough time to go into a sitting position at least. But then I yelp at the sudden dungeon drop of him pulling me away again – I feel like I might actually catch some air from the unexpected descent. The dude needs to slow down. But I’m still coasting on my inner peace or whatever, so I manage to enjoy the ride. I see way more of his face now and try to take in every detail.

Ryder smiles widely and says, “From here you look like a little sprinkle. I just want to put you on an ice cream cone and gobble you up.”

I groan and wistfully comment, “Now you’re making me want ice cream…”

It’s true that, as much as I appreciate his body warmth, between the heat of the shrinking process and all of the adrenaline from the evening, a frozen treat sounds pretty refreshing. I lean back and out of nowhere, my mouth moves on its own. “What are you doing this weekend?”

I’m almost too small to make out my keeper’s mega micro expressions. But even though his features are all so spread out, I catch the slight narrowing of his eyes, the slackening of his smile, the minute furrow in his brow. “Why?” he asks softly.

“Want to go get ice cream on Saturday?” I suggest.

There’s a surprisingly long pause. I’m not sure if he’s deliberating or surprised at my suggestion or what. I’m starting to feel self conscious as I wonder what’s going on in his mind, but finally he chuckles and says, “There’s a place I’ve been meaning to check out, actually…”

“Is it called Sundae’s Finest??” I exclaim eagerly.

His eyebrows raise. “It is! On Fourth street?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to try it out too! Let’s do it?”

There’s another chuckle, and a slight shake of his head that’s dizzying to look at. And there’s a mysterious look in his eyes.

“You realize we’d be hanging out together,” he says, “In public.”

“I don’t care!”

There’s another pause as Ryder continues to stare. I’m still trying to read him and am struggling to. It doesn’t look like any kind of negative emotion, I don’t think. He just looks a bit… disoriented? Maybe?? I’m feeling a bit unsettled myself.

“Are you sure about that?” he finally asks.

“I…” My mouth shuts as it’s my turn to pause and falter. Eventually I admit, “I mean, of course I’m not sure. My feelings are… extremely confusing right now.”

I try to meet his eyes, knowing that it’s impossible, that I’m too small for him to make mine out. But it certainly feels like he can, from the way he looks at me so intently.

With a deep breath I take a moment of introspection. I’m aware that, because of him, I’m not quite acting like myself. But there’s still enough of me left to know that what I’m feeling right now, in this very moment, is genuine. This intense fondness that I have for Ryder, it predates any kind of mind manipulation, I’m sure of it. And I’m desperate to make sure that whatever we have now, whatever this relationship is… that it extends past tonight.

“I’d like for us to hang out,” I say firmly, making myself sound as sober as possible. “Please.”

He sighs, the wind gust whipping at my hair despite the distance. He’s truly a force of nature. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and the depth of emotion behind his eyes seems to stretch. Finally he rumbles, “…Okay.”

There’s something odd in the air. Seriously, what is that look in his eyes?? I can’t handle it. The mere sight of him is overwhelming me - with arousal, with affection, with embarrassment. I feel like he might be getting overly sentimental about the crumb of a girl sitting on his fingertip. The aura he’s exuding is so… loving. That’s the only word I can come up with. But that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? We hardly know each other, and I’m the one who’s been intensely crushing on him all this time, while he’s just enjoyed toying with me.

This is stupid. This is too much. I cover my face. I feel like I’m back in middle school, getting vulnerable over some guy before making a fool of myself and just wanting to vanish. For years I’ve wondered what that would even be like, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that I’ve slowly been finding out all evening.

And now my curiosity is about to get the best of me.

“Ryder?” I say softly, hands still over my eyes.

“Yes, Isabelle?”

“I want to get smaller,” I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut in my own darkness. “I… I want to know what it’s like to disappear.”

@Nyx Yeah, I’m not sure how much it truly did affect mainstream people’s idea of BDSM or not, since kinks still feels like a bit of a taboo subject in most spaces. I do think that sometimes something blows up with the mainstream in a bad way (ie I think there are a whole lot of misconceptions about what furries are, which leads to unfortunate levels of mocking/derision from the general population). And I personally didn’t really know anything about BDSM until 50 Shades got popular, so at first I felt very creeped out by the whole idea - honestly the backlash that it got was what led me to research and learn about how BDSM actually works in real life. But I agree that 50 Shades is fiction and shouldn’t necessarily have to be “good representation,” and that by and large it might not have had that much of an effect on people’s minds.

(And yes, I also agree that I would have been way more interested if he was a lot bigger hehe)

@foreverlurk I hope you feel better soon!!

Yes, the thought of my entire hand being completely enveloped in my giant’s gentle grasp It’s got me weak in the knees

Chapter 44
Aiden

It seems odd, somehow, that I hadn’t owned a magnifying glass before this, considering our circumstances. I guess I never saw a use for it, outside of just wanting to get a better look at her, which didn’t feel like a valid reason. But now that we have a new step in our daily routine I finally ended up buying one.

“It doesn’t look too red,” I mumble, leaning in further and squinting. Even magnified, the cut on Evie’s leg is so little - to me, at least. “How does it feel?”

“Still sore… but getting better,” she responds from her prone position on the dollhouse bed. I glance at her expression since her face is aimed in my direction, her cheek resting on folded arms. I think she’s being truthful, her smile looking far less pained today.

I return my attention to the thin line on her calf, looking for any signs of infection at the top of it, just shy of the back of her knee. Her entire lower half is under the magnifying glass, and it’s a little distracting. Don’t-stare-at-her-butt, don’t-stare-at-her-butt, don’t-stare-at–

I shake my head and force myself to look lower now, trying to pinpoint the other end of the cut near the teeny tiny bump of her ankle. I talk to keep myself on track. “Man, there are a lot of tendons that you could have hit and didn’t. You really lucked out.”

She laughs wryly. “Not sure I would call any of this lucky.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. Just trying to find the silver lining I guess…”

Once I’m satisfied that everything looks clean, I carefully start wrapping her leg back up with a fresh bandage. It’s a slow process, but I’ve been getting better at it, and propping the magnifying glass up so that I can look through it helps a lot.

“I’ve been experimenting with putting a little weight on it,” Evie muses, tapping her other foot absently as she keeps her injured leg still for me. “I bet if I tried to use those crutches again I could get around.”

It’s been four days since the accident, and I don’t blame her for going a little stir crazy. I tried making tiny crutches for her out of bent paper clips in the beginning, but her leg hurt so bad that it didn’t work out - holding her foot off the ground was too painful, and letting it drag was even worse. It doesn’t help that she hasn’t taken any kind of pain meds. We considered it at first, maybe shaving off a bit of tylenol from a pill or something. But playing around with drugs seemed dangerous since neither one of us knows what we’re doing, and in the end she assured me she could handle the pain.

So she’s been spending a lot of time in bed, and for everything else she’s relying on me to move her where she needs to go. Selfishly I do kinda enjoy that part, if we’re being completely honest - the part where I get to touch her more, not her misery at being immobile. Although I’m now all the more paranoid about accidentally hurting her. I’ve certainly been fine-tuning my ability to use a gentle grip, that’s for sure.

But in three days summer classes will start, which means my TA job will resume. I’d like to ask Moira to be here as much as possible while I’m gone, but it would probably still be better for Evie to get around by herself if she can.

I finish re-wrapping the little limb and put the magnifying glass down before responding to her desire to try walking. “Sure, I still have the paper clips handy… Here you go. Just be careful.”

She gets to a sitting position on her bed eagerly, swinging her legs over the edge as she holds a hand out for the makeshift crutches. She slowly stands up, balancing on one foot, and I hover my hands on either side of her, ready to catch her if she loses balance. She holds firm and tucks the metal supports under her arms, looking very determined. Then she takes one tentative step, wobbles, and grows a shade paler.

"Take it easy,” I say, “Wouldn’t want to rush into it and make it worse.”

Evie nods and steps back again so she can sit down. She sighs, looking disappointed, a rather heartbreaking sight. I touch my thumb to her downcast face and make an attempt at lightening the mood. “That’s still a whole lot of progress, Eve! I’m sure in the next day or two you’ll be able to make it. Besides, I don’t mind having to carry you around in the meantime.”

I purposefully made my tone a little suggestive and she catches on, looking up at me with a smirk. “You just like getting your hands all over me,” she teases.

"Like I said… just trying to find the silver lining.” I grin.

She chuckles and wraps her arms around my thumb, giving the side of it a little peck before leaning her cheek against it. It’s enough to send a pleasant shiver down my spine. She closes her eyes and exhales deeply.

“I hate this,” she suddenly confides. I lean in attentively - this is a rare vulnerable moment that I don’t take lightly. “Not this,” she clarifies, giving my thumb a little squeeze, “Just… I thought being small was bad enough. But I guess even then I was taking things for granted.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” I say softly, curling a couple of fingers around to support the back of her head and shoulders. “This really sucks. It’ll pass.”

She just nods and stares off into space. Poor thing. Evie already struggles enough with her lack of independence, but she’s really, truly helpless these days. I’ve moved some of her things right next to her bed so that she can eat and drink and have her phone handy, but anything where she has to stand up she needs me for. Even something as basic as getting dressed or going to the bathroom, I have to at least place her in the right spot for it before giving her privacy. I try to stay nearby all day just in case she needs help, but I can still tell by the quiver of her voice when she calls for me that she feels like an inconvenience, every time. No matter how much I tell her she’s not.

But I’ll say it as many times as it takes. “I know I’m probably sounding like a broken record. But for real, I promise I don’t mind bringing you things or carrying you places. Being able to help you makes me happy.”

Her brown doe eyes captivate me for a moment. As small as they are, they hold so much. There’s an odd expression on her face, one I can’t quite make out, hinting at all of the intricate layers hidden behind her smile.

And yet her tone is as lighthearted as can be. “Can you pick me up then?”

I perk up at the suggestion. “Sure! Where to?” I question, and I shift my fingers to pinch her torso from behind, so that I can start the delicate process of transferring her from the bed to my other hand.

“Nowhere in particular,” Evie says, arms gripping my fingers as she tenses from me lifting her up. When I gently deposit her on my palm, her legs are dangling off the side so that I can let her maneuver them in whatever way hurts the least. She slides herself back, bending her uninjured leg for stability, before she settles in the middle of my hand and looks back up at me. “I just want you to hold me. If that’s okay.”

Seriously now. How the hell is anyone supposed to resist that?

“Of course,” I say, lifting her higher so that I can bring her tiny forehead to my lips. I’m proud to feel her lean into the kiss without any kind of pained flinching. I’m getting better at this.

“You know… I’m really going to miss you when I go back to work,” I lament as I lower her back down with a half smile. “I mean, no one else lets me hold them like this.”

“Well. That’s a shame,” she responds with a laugh. “You’ll be seeing some of your old students though, yeah? And maybe it’ll be nice to have some structure back in your day.” I don’t say anything, mulling it all over. After a few seconds she cocks her head to the side and adds, “By the look on your face, I take it that’s not much comfort?”

“I’m honestly kinda nervous,” I admit, “I’ve been doing this TA thing since I started grad school, but I’ve only ever been involved with the pretty basic geology courses. This next one’s more advanced, plus it’s condensed into a summer class… I just hope I don’t let anyone down.”

Evie’s eyes are full of concern, and she runs a hand in a slow circle next to her on my palm. "Remember what the professor told you last semester? Wasn’t it, like, twenty students who specifically mentioned to her how much you helped them with the class? Do you know how insane that is, that so many people would go out of their way like that? I literally can’t imagine you letting anyone down for anything. You’re your own worst critic, but you’re going to do an amazing job this summer, I can feel it!” She smiles encouragingly and then she shifts towards my ring finger beside her to take it in both hands. “I’m sorry you’re stressed about it though, I know I’d be nervous too…”

Ugh, my heart can’t take this. Even though she’s been dealing with all of her own problems, here she is trying her utmost to comfort me. She always knows the exact right thing to say when I’m down… And I love the way her arms consistently manage to find their way wrapped around one of my fingers… She’s such a sweet girl.

“Thank you," I say with a nod, "You’re right, it’ll be fine. Still gonna miss you though.” I bring her back up to my face and just keep her close, the bridge of my nose becoming her chin rest as she leans on me.

“It goes without saying that I’ll miss you too,” she says softly, “But we’ve got this.”

I sigh while doing my best to hold still. I really want to keep snuggling, but I also don’t want to monopolize the evening. I eventually straighten up and hold my little friend in front of me to ask, “So, what would you like to do tonight? Want to watch a movie or something?”

Evie glances out towards the living room and she seems a bit distracted when she faces me again. “Mmm, maybe a little later… Can we still go to the couch though?"

I tilt my head as I look at her curiously, wondering at her tone. Clearly something’s going on behind those eyes. It’s like she’s somehow both intensely focused on me and a million miles away. With a cautious slowness I get up to do as she requests, relocating to the nearby couch.

“What’s on your mind?" I decide to ask as I sit back down.

Evie’s expression shifts as suddenly her cheeks flush now that I’ve called her out. “If… if you’re okay with it, I…" There’s a pause, and it’s starting to make me nervous in turn. Finally she forces it out, “I’d like to try again with… with me laying on your chest.”

I blink, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “You sure?"

“Yeah. You seem pretty awake today, right?"

I bite my lip and can feel my own cheeks flushing, though it’s mostly in embarrassment as the memories start creeping back up. “Right…”

“We don’t have to though," she says quickly, and there’s a subtle tremble to her body as she redistributes her weight in my hand. “Will it make you uncomfortable?”

The thought of cuddling together is insanely alluring. I’m happy to know I’m not the only one feeling particularly touchy-feely right now. But at the same time, the memories are back in full force at this point, haunting me with a vengeance. I feel sick with shame as I recall her terrified cries and the stress of the conversation that had followed.

“Maybe?” I finally concede, “But I guess I wouldn’t mind… trying."

Evie tightens her grip on my finger. “I know things didn’t go well at the time, but right before… it happened, I was really, really enjoying things.”

I smile despite the nerves. “I’m so happy to hear that. Okay. Let me just…”

Holding the tiny girl in my palm as steadily as possible, I lift my legs up onto the couch as I pivot. Slowly I lower myself back until my neck is leaning against the armrest, and then I let my occupied hand rest just above my diaphragm. Using my available fingers, I very carefully help guide my small passenger onto my chest.

“There you go,” I say, “Feel okay?”

“Yes.” She lowers into a lying position, just like she had that night, resting on her stomach as she stays propped up on her elbows. “Yeah, I’m good… Are you though? Your heart rate is really picking up, is this scaring you?”

“N-no. I mean, maybe a little bit, but… I don’t think that’s why my heart rate’s picking up.”

We’re both nervous now, I can see a wave of anxiety pass over her as her blushing expands to her ears. It’s taking an immense amount of self control to keep my breathing slow and steady since I don’t want to jostle her. This is a lot. My body remembers what happened last time. A part of me still sees myself as a menace. But at the same time… her warm little weight lying on me, as light as a flower, it’s just…

I let out an awkward breath of laughter. “Sorry, it’s just kinda intimate.”

She nods and lowers herself all the way down until her chin is resting on her arms. She manages a weak smile as she looks straight at me. “That’s what I like about it, though.”

As usual, her smile elicits mine. “Yeah, me too.”

“Is this the kind of stuff that you would fantasize about?”

Ah. I wasn’t expecting her to bring that up. We haven’t really talked much about my “fantasies,” I’m far too self conscious to bring it up myself. Doesn’t exactly help that she’s right on the money… If my heart wasn’t racing before, it certainly is now.

“Yep,” I admit, “This is exactly the kind of thing.”

Evie hums to herself with an absent nod. “I can get behind that…”

Something about the way she says it gives me another pang of embarrassment. “Did you think it’d be something… worse?”

“I don’t really know what to think, to be honest. I’m still not sure I understand the appeal.”

I’m starting to fidget nervously as I gaze just past her. Maybe this was all a really bad idea. I don’t even know if this counts as cuddling, and instead it’s bringing up all sorts of guilt and fear and awkwardness. My fingers find their way to the little woman lying on me, mindful about touching the leg that’s uninjured. Taking a second to ground myself, I grasp her tiny foot between finger and thumb, softly running the digits over the minute bone of her ankle and up the curve of her calf. To my surprise, she sighs contentedly at this. It gives me the strength to speak.

“I-I can try to answer whatever questions you have. It’s sorta hard to explain, and there are a lot of different facets to it. Um…”

I take a deep breath. And I try to push past the embarrassment. Communicate, Aiden… Talk to her…

“So… I guess one of the first things that I realized when I was younger was this… Sometimes life feels like it’s out of your control. When you’re a kid, you’re at the mercy of your parents and the other adults in your life, they’re the ones who have the ultimate say on everything. They decide what school you go to, what’s for dinner, who you get to hang out with. If your parents are in the military, you might have to move around a lot. If you have a friend who’s going through something shitty, you’re just a kid who can’t really do anything to help them. Even as you grow up you realize that your ability to make a difference is so limited.

"So the thought of having a tiny friend was almost a way of… coping. Having a secret companion, someone I could actually protect and take care of when it felt like everything else was spiraling out of control. I just found the idea incredibly comforting.”

I glance down at Evie and she’s looking at me with wide eyes. “Whoa. I never would have thought of something like that.”

I’m suddenly struck by the irony of what I just said. If anyone’s life has spiraled out of their control, it’s hers. Maybe on some level she can relate.

“Reality’s a little different,” I say, and my finger starts making its way from her leg to her shoulders, trailing up the side of her body. “Try as I might, it’s not like I’m able to take care of you as well as I’d like. I can’t protect you from everything… clearly."

I pause. I’m certainly focusing on some of the deeper realizations I’ve had about the kink, without quite addressing the more simple aspects of this too. Might as well be fair so I add, "But hey, if nothing else, I also can’t help thinking you look really, really cute like this. So there’s that too.” I pat the top of her head as I manage a smirk.

She smiles in response but otherwise doesn’t address the latter comment. She seems to deliberate for a moment before she says in a low tone, “Don’t underestimate how much you do for me, Aiden… I’d be completely lost without you.”

I can see how hard it is for her to admit that and my heart aches. It’s such a paradox. Loving her this little. Wishing I could restore her. Wanting her to be happy. Wanting her to be mine.

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short,” I say encouragingly, “Considering everything you’ve been through, you’ve been handling yourself incredibly well.” I shift my hand so that I can cover the entire length of her with it, like a quilt draping over her back. “And I’m happy to always be here for you whenever you need me. Okay?”

Her smile widens. Then she leans forward to press her lips against the floor beneath her, and despite there being a shirt in the way I can feel the kiss on my chest. A pinprick of warmth seems to bloom at that tiny point of contact and spreads across my entire body. “Thank you,” she says affectionately, nuzzling her cheek against me.

Alright, maybe laying here together wasn’t such a bad idea after all. We’re both clearly feeling more refreshed after that talk, and Evie lifts her head. “I think I’m ready to watch something now. Is it alright if we stay like this?”

I beam at her and press my fingers into a gentle hug around her body. “I’d love that.”

@Nyx Completely agree! And yeah I’ve seen that firsthand with foot fetishists too - I used to work for a YouTuber, and although she was a fashion/lifestyle vlogger, there was this group of dudes who were clearly just there for anytime she showed off an outfit with sandals. They always commented early, so it was a regular thing for me to log in shortly after every video uploaded and delete all the foot comments lol. She wasn’t too bothered by it, but yeah definitely a case of a few people making an entire group look bad

@foreverlurk WOW what an incredibly motivating compliment! I thankfully have a very active imagination that is very dedicated to this stuff so I’m not stopping anytime soon

@Olo In an older story that I wrote, I conveniently made the main character’s best friend a therapist, because I knew that after everything I’d be putting the little one through, she was going to need therapy (with someone who would actually believe her story) But you’re right, if it was a multi-size society, there would be different benefits to differently-sized therapists, that’s interesting to think about.

Yeah, I fall under the “it depends” camp too.

So my personal situation with that is - I started RPing when I was still single. To be honest, despite doing quite a bit of it I can probably count the occasions that I enjoyed it on one hand, most of the time it was unsatisfying at best and downright traumatizing at worst (whether it was with actual creeps/assholes, or with perfectly nice dudes where our interests just didn’t align quite right and it’s no one’s fault). Because of that, it wasn’t very hard for me to decide to temporarily stop RPing when I started dating my partner, since I did feel uncomfortable doing it without telling him. Soon enough I told him about my kink, and while we explored it together, it still wasn’t quite the same as a roleplay with someone who “gets it,” so to speak.

Eventually enough time passed that I was feeling the urge to try RPing online again (the number of times where it was like “oh, this one might have potential!” kept drawing me back lol). So I broached the subject with my partner about that exact question - “does RP count as cheating?” And I do think that might be the most important factor, the way both people feel about it as a couple. It’s like with other boundaries outside of RPing - everyone will have different past experiences, different limits, different definitions of cheating, etc. He and I discussed it at length, like “does THIS feel like it would be too far past the line? what about this?”, and I showed him some examples from past RPs. I’m lucky that he’s supportive and trusting so it wasn’t an issue for us. (And then when I did try RPing again and kept getting similarly disappointed I decided it wasn’t really my thing after all and I don’t really do it anymore lol, it sorta became a moot point)

There are so many factors to consider like… Are you RPing with one person and are developing a deep emotional connection with them? Is the RP utilizing characters in third person, or are you playing yourself? How frequent are the RPs? Are they solely in writing or do they involve voice chat or anything else? These kinds of details could affect what the couple is comfortable doing. My general gauge that I went by (outside of the discussion with my partner) was to ask myself “How do I feel about this right now? Does this feel wrong to me?” instead of solely thinking “Would my partner be upset if he saw this?”

I’d certainly be curious to see other people’s take on this!

@Olo Oh, sorry to Evie, but Pepper’s totally got her beat on that front