@tinysupervicki You won’t be able to maintain your clinical detachment with me.

Chapter Five

It was the most intense climax I had ever had. It felt as if Pet had seized me by the prostate and was squeezing every last drop out of me. As dire as Pet’s straits had been lodged between my ass cheeks and balls, she would have been in far greater peril between my surging cock and manic grip.

I again wanted to relax in the afterglow, but Pet’s repose was less than secure, so I stayed slouched while I reached around my thigh and gathered her into my grip. I clasped her to my chest and kept my hand over her as she lay atop my pounding heart.

She only moved to fill and empty her lungs, her fluttering breath tickling my skin. I simultaneously wanted to hold her tight and give her the room to stretch and breathe free. Both of us were sticky, and neither of us smelled fresh.

“Let’s take a real bath, Pet,” I said.

Not a word was spoken as I eased us into the warm, soapy water. I was quite content to watch Pet glide between my legs, pull herself up by my cock, and stretch herself out on my thigh. She knew she had been a good girl, and she only had to look into my face to be reassured.

Dinner that night was beef and vegetables stir-fry with rice. I decided to have a beer, and Pet accepted a dropperful in her mug. Tomorrow I get her dining stuff, I resolved.

Toward the end of the meal, after I had nearly finished my beer, Pet surprised me again. “Sir,” she asked, “what does it feel like to have someone in your mouth?”

“Blissful,” I said without hesitation. “The world collapses until you are only aware of the sensations of the tiny person contained within you, totally at your mercy and open to your appetites.” I had no idea how long I had been waiting to tell that to someone.

Pet considered this, and she didn’t move—not even reflexively—when I leaned down to bring my face close to her.

“What does it feel like to be in someone’s mouth?” I asked recklessly.

She tilted her head and gave me a stare I had never before seen from her at this size. She seemed to think that was sufficient response, but I didn’t know what to make of it.

“C’mon, Pet,” I pressed.

“It’s fucking terrifying, whaddaya think?!” she exploded. She was so agitated that I thought she only kept her seat as a way of suppressing the instinct to flee.

“I got the impression that you liked it,” I said deliberately, trying not to provoke her further.

“What else was I gonna do? Dude, I’m four inches tall and I have no idea how to get back to normal!” she cried. “My life is basically over.” She crumpled in on herself, sobbing.

She’s as surprised by herself as I am, I thought. She knows she shouldn’t have asked me that first question, but her curiosity got the better of her and now we’re here, grieving her old life. Only way forward is through.

I reached forward and she didn’t notice or react as I gathered her into my grip and brought her close. I tried to keep a soft but solemn expression as I lightly stroked her back with the tip of my middle finger. She continued sobbing, eventually burying her face between my thumb and forefinger, right where she had bitten me the day before.

I was at a loss, and I dared not say anything just yet. It was going to take her more than a day to process this, and what she needed from me was consistency. Reliability. Practicality.

I couldn’t put her to bed like that, so I simply waited until her sobs had subsided. She raised her head to look at me, and I saw it: a pleading in her eyes, an honest hope that I could provide an answer.

“So start a new life,” I said, and put her to bed.

---

I didn’t sleep well. My worries about Pet were scattered and intangible, so I ended up focusing on whether I really wanted to give her sharp utensils. I couldn’t come to a confident decision about that.

Pet was more composed at breakfast; she was even forward enough to ask for sugar for her coffee. Without any premeditation, I added some sugar to my coffee, too, and for once I found the sweetness charming rather than cloying.

“Sir,” she asked, “how did class go yesterday?”

I did my best to conceal my frustration. I really didn’t want Pet dwelling on her old life, particularly something as pointless as a 100-level Poli Sci class. At the same time, her question expressed polite concern for the only other person in her new life. I dared not injure that.

“Same ol’, same ol’, Pet,” I replied.

“Do you want my help with the presentation, Sir?” It was, in fact, due in two weeks, and just that morning I had already gotten a text about it from Jeff.

“You don’t have to worry about that stuff anymore, Pet,” I said as kindly as I could. She was clearly trying to find something in the future to focus on.

“I have to go to work this afternoon, Pet,” I said, “but before that I’m going shopping. I’m gonna get you a new bed, chair, and table, all exactly your size.”

She wasn’t expecting that, and it took her a few moments to say, “Thank you, Sir. Thank you.” It sounded sincere enough.

High on my own generosity, I plunged ahead. “Howabout some books or magazines?” I offered. “Would you like some of those?”

“My, my size?” she asked skeptically.

“Of course, I can make anything your size.”

“Uh, yes, yes Sir,” she said, gaining earnestness with each syllable. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Any ones in particular?”

“You choose for me, Sir.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

It was an excellent note on which to end breakfast. My heart was light as I showered, dressed, and headed out.

---

Work was as tedious as usual, but kept myself going by imagining Pet’s reactions to all the presents I had gotten for her. As a celebratory treat, I also picked up fresh ingredients for Chicken Parmigiano and a California red that I liked.

I had left Pet with the same chunk of cheese for her lunch, and I hoped she hadn’t made herself too full for dinner. When I entered my kitchen, she was lying on Rosa’s too-small couch. You’re gonna love this, Pet, I thought.

I set my satchel on the floor next to the kitchen table and sat down. I opened the satchel clasp and flipped the cover back, then turned to make sure Pet was watching.

“Are you ready for your presents, Pet?” I fairly sang.

Pet hadn’t moved from the couch, and I wondered if she had been more fatigued than I had realized. Even though the couch was beneath her scale, she really looked darling curled up on it. I think I’ll let her keep it.

I brought my face right next to the plexiglass. “Yoo-hoo,” I called softly.

I thought I would be disappointed when Pet opened her eyes and failed to be startled by my looming face, but instead I was relieved when she returned my smile. I’m glad to be home, too.

The first item I presented Pet with was a new bed, queen-sized just right for my lilliputian Queen. No sooner had I placed it in the terrarium than she stretched herself out on it, just as I had envisioned in the department store.

“Pull back the covers,” I said with anticipation. Pet promptly did so, running her hand across the fine sheet underneath.

Also for the terrarium was a high-backed easy chair with arm rests for reading. For the kitchen table was a cushioned dining chair and table. Her plates, bowls, drinking glasses, and utensils had all come from a thrift store, all shrunken afterward. I had hesitated over the serrated steak knife, but in the end I had decided I would have to risk a little trust.

The books and magazines required more inspiration. I resisted the urge to get her all the nerdy sci-fi I was overfamiliar with, but I did sample some well-regarded authors: Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, Ursula LeGuin. I really had no clue what kind of magazines to get, beyond those with hi-res photos. I picked up issues of National Geographic, Vanity Fair, and Food & Wine.

Pet accepted the books and magazines in the spirit intended, and while she perused them I set about getting dinner ready. The trick was starting the pasta first because it was more easily interruptible than the chicken. I opened the wine early, and we both had a sip or two before we were finally ready to sit at table.

I didn’t shrink any stemware for Pet because she would be washing all her own dishes and I didn’t want her to have to worry about breaking it. I’m gonna need more eye-droppers, I thought.

The chicken and sauce turned out perfect, and I was pleased to see Pet eating heartily. I poured myself another glass of wine, but Pet declined a refill.

“Sir,” she asked, “Is this to be my new life?”

I nodded with my mouth full, chewed, and swallowed. Pet rested her hands in her lap with a forlorn expression.

“I’m just your pet,” she said softly. “Just your sex toy.”

Finally, I thought. “Yes,” I said patiently, “you are my Pet. Mine and mine alone.”

“Why me?” The question hung in the air while I fished a sliver of chicken out from between my gum and cheek with my tongue, scrutinizing her.

Because your bountiful hair snared me with its sprays and scents. Because your round ass and thick thighs lured me with their tautness and texture. Because your wide cheeks and smile enchanted me with their audacity and openness. Because your bouncy breasts and belly seduced me with their curves and capacity. And because your deep eyes intrigued me with their awareness and appetites.

“Because I wanted to take you,” I said finally, “and I had the power to do so.”

I saw Pet open her mouth for the next question, but the warning in my eyes made her think better of asking it. I refilled her wine glass with the eye-dropper. She took a sip and looked around at the giant kitchen that had become her home.

“How long do you plan to keep me, Sir?” she asked plaintively.

“As long as you are happy here,” I replied sincerely, “which I hope is a very long time indeed.”

I returned to my meal but watched Pet out of the corner of my eye. She picked up both her utensils—including the sharp knife—but she only paused a moment before cutting her chicken again and taking another bite.

When we had both finished our dinner, I cleared and rinsed my dishes and filled a small wash basin to soak Pet’s dishes until she could get to them later. I then retrieved the small couch from the terrarium and set it on the kitchen table underneath the magnifier lamp. It was time for Pet’s final present.

She remained seated at her dining table as I got up and went to my jacket to collect a small tub of coffee creamer from the pocket. The seal was slightly open from when I had emptied it before I left work.

I sat back at the table and set the creamer tub next to the couch. I pulled the seal back all the way, removing it, then beckoned Pet to approach. I was pleased to see from her gait that she retained some curiosity about my acquisitions.

The top of the tub only came up to her knees, so she knelt and peered down into it. Her head snapped back up, her eyes searching my face for affirmation or explanation. I smiled and nodded, and she looked back down and reached into the tub.

When Pet withdrew her arm, her fist was clutching a fellow who had woken up that morning at least six feet tall but was now less than an eighth of an inch tall. I had been concerned that I would injure or kill him when I used the tweezers to pick him up from the restroom floor, particularly as he had been trying to evade me. Next time I should put my finger over the end of a straw and use the force of vacuum when collecting micros.

Gazing through the magnifier, I saw the expression of amazement and delight spread across Pet’s face as she brought her toy close. She chuckled as the microscopic man struggled in vain to escape her grasp.

“You wanted to know what it was like,” I said gently, trying not to intrude too much. Pet raised her face to me with an appraising expression I had never seen before. It was almost as if we were seeing each other for the first time.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“I didn’t ask,” I said. “Why don’t you give him a name?”

She smirked and looked at her toy. “He looks like a Dick,” she said.

“‘Dick’ it is,” I proclaimed.

“Hi, Dick!” she chirped at her toy, grinning irrepressibly. Dick’s struggles became even more animated.

“Be quiet,” she said testily. Pet looked back to me.

“What should I do with him?” she asked with a leer.

“Do whatever you like,” I replied, “so long as I get to watch.”

Pet turned her full attention to Dick. She sat on the couch and set him down in front of her. She folded her hands in her lap as he got to his feet.

“You have been irreversibly shrunk,” she said with the imperiousness of a vice principal. “You will live out the rest of your days as my toy.” Dick’s protests were inaudible to me, but Pet cut them off. “Remove all your clothing now,” she said bluntly, “or I’ll break your neck.”

I knew she could feel my scrutiny, but she kept her impassive eyes on her plaything as he undressed. When he was completely nude, she plucked him by one wrist and dangled him in front of her face.

Dick’s legs flailed furiously as Pet’s mouth opened. Her tongue darted out and lapped between his legs, then returned to her palate for the savoring. Her face split into a triumphant grin, and my heart warmed with pride.

Pet opened her jaws even wider, and I could see her shudder with excitement as she slowly brought Dick over her waiting maw. I couldn’t hear his screams, but it was clear Pet was enjoying them. Then she let go and he dropped into her mouth.

She caught him with her teeth about his chest and back, and one of his arms was still free to press and pound on her upper jaw. I thought she might have bitten down when she smiled at his predicament, but I couldn’t see any blood.

Pet shut her eyes and puckered her lips around Dick’s neck, and I could see her tongue pulsing in her throat. She took several deep inhalations as she savored his struggles between her lips, then she dutifully raised her face to my gaze. I wish she could have seen his wide terrified eyes as she sucked him entirely inside.

From that point I could only discern what was happening with Dick from Pet’s expression and posture. She kept her eyes closed and lay back on the couch, and when she put one hand to her chest I thought she might have swallowed him. Her breathing was very shallow and her face was quite still. Her throat muscles, however, were still twitching and I concluded that her tongue must still be having its way with him.

Finally, Pet tipped her head back and I saw the bulge of Dick’s passage down her throat. There was nothing to do or say, just breathe and imagine the sensation of Dick filling Pet’s stomach and meeting his doom.

When I took Dick I had had no firm idea of what would happen to him, but in retrospect it seemed inevitable. Pet had disposed of him rather quickly, but I had surprised her and she hadn’t had time to contemplate anything more elaborate.

Look at you. What must you be feeling right now? Her eyes were still shut, and her lips were tightly pursed. Her hand was still at her chest, fingers splayed wide.

I had to hold her. Pet opened her eyes but did not otherwise react when I gathered her up in both hands and brought her close. I closed one thumb over her belly. I couldn’t detect any movement, but she smiled satisfactorily as she placed both hands on top of my thumb.

“Well,” I asked, “how was it?”

“I get it now,” she replied after a moment. “This is the way of things.”

There was nothing to do but kiss her, right on the front of her head from the bridge of her nose to her crown.

“Who was he?” she asked after I had brought her back under my gaze.

“Just some rando, minding his own business,” I replied.

“So an innocent person, then.”

“I don’t know about ‘innocent’.” I might have taken him because he was tall and he looked like he took it for granted, but that didn’t matter to Pet. “He didn’t do anything wrong to me, if that’s what you mean.”

“You just took him because you could.”

“And because it pleased me to give him to you.”

Pet looked up at me for several moments with an inscrutable expression. I felt judged, and I welcomed her judgment. I craved it, in fact. She let out a deep breath, and a rueful smile crept across her face.

“I can see why you do it,” she admitted.

I channeled my relief into a broad smile. As much as her sympathy meant to me, however, her happiness meant more.

I started caressing her over her clothes with my thumb on her belly, making wider and wider circles until it was fondling her boobs and pressing on her crotch. My tongue stirred insistently. I sought one last affirmation from her, but I was in no position to request it. In the end, I let my eyes speak for me: You are mine to play with, and I will never let you go.

Pet lay back in my hands and raised her arms until they rested above her head against my fingers. She relaxed her legs and let my molesting thumb nudge them apart. Her breathing was deep and even, and her heartbeat felt strong. Her lips were skewed enigmatically, but I had no doubt what her eyes were saying in reply to mine: I am yours.

HERE ENDS VOLUME TWO

Many, many thanks to @Taedis for her assistance with this story.

This sort of sounded like my size journey, and then I realized it was about @Kisupure

@dr-tol Gotta fit in my mouth, preferably entirely. If she’s too big to swallow whole, she absolutely has to be small enough to be held with just my lips, suspended there wriggling, half in half out, while my tongue has its way with her.

A Tiny Visitor by LordXarnor

@littlest-lily said:

“Your hands are shaking.”

One advantage tinies have is that they are so much more aware of subtle changes in biggos’ behavior and expressions. They’d probably dominate at poker.

It depends, of course, on the specific scenario.

For most one-on-one situations, I prefer 2-4 inches. The ability to completely enclose her in my hand or mouth is an indispensable experience.

In a harem situation, however, I could definitely see a role for a “headmistress” who is up to 8 inches. Too big to swallow and bigger than the other girls, but still small enough to hold in one hand while tasting her.

@kondo E-hentai hosts pirated content.

REQUEST 14 by LordXarnor

All six tiny girls now stood inside the fish tank for the Prof’s inspection. Barb and Janey stood apart from the rest, facing each other while occasionally glancing up at the Prof. The four other girls huddled together whimpering every time the Prof loomed close while Deirdre explained to Rebecca what was going on. The Prof moved around the table to look at the girls from various angles, the fingers of his free hand twitching and rubbing against his palm.

At last the Prof stood up over the tank and shot his hand down to pluck Janey about the abdomen with his thumb and forefinger, bringing her up for closer inspection. He first examined her face and chest, holding the magnifying glass right in front of his eye. After a moment he inverted her, using a single finger to pry apart her flailing legs so he could scrutinize her pussy and asshole. Finally he lowered the magnifying glass and brought Janey’s splayed crotch right up against his mustache and under his nostrils for a deep whiff.

Familiar with the Prof’s habits, Jonathan waited for his tongue to make an appearance. He could see the muscle flexing in the Prof’s throat. The Prof took another deep sniff of the tiny girl’s snatch, then pursed his lips and returned her ungracefully to the tank. He brought the magnifying glass up again and leaned down to peer at the girls clustered around Rebecca. Jonathan knew what it was like to have a handful of shrunken girls look up at you in terror, and he understood why the Prof drew this process out.

The girls shrieked when the Prof stood up over the tank again, and Audrey broke from the pack in an attempt to evade his descending hand. Her flight was in vain, however, as the Prof’s hand instead dove into the herd of the three other girls and fished Emma out of the tank. The Prof shifted his grip to her torso and repeated the same inspection he had performed on Janey. This time his tongue did indeed participate, the tip making a single dab at her furry little pussy. The Prof closed his eyes and savored the taste, swallowing and smacking his lips. He then opened his eyes and nodded to Jonathan.

As the Prof carried Emma in his pinch over to a nearby bookshelf, Jonathan resettled on the couch to consider how much Greg would pay for each of the five girls not chosen. Greg’s tastes were not as idiosyncratic as the Prof’s, but they were still a bit narrow. Audrey should definitely get enlarged some, although her quickness argued against making her legs too much longer. He’d want to see Deirdre’s assets a bit bigger, too.

The Prof took an empty pint glass down from the shelf and lowered Emma into it, letting her drop the last couple of inches. He set the pint glass on the side table next to his chair, then turned to the desk on the other side of the lamp and unlocked a low cabinet door, which folded down to form a horizontal shelf. The bottom of the cabinet featured several small shelves and containers, none higher than three inches.

“Miss Menzies, if you would be so kind,” the Prof said ritually.

The interior of the cabinet extended into the desk to the left past the opening of the door, and it was from this direction that Miss Menzies appeared. She was just over four inches tall, white skin and long curly auburn hair down to her ass. She had heavy breasts that had started to sag, and it was her wide hips that Jonathan looked for when picking girls for the Prof. At one time, Miss Menzies had been the secretary for the department where he taught at the University. Now the Prof had her all to himself.

One of the little containers in the cabinet held a supply of lube, which Miss Menzies extracted and began to apply to all of her limbs and the whole front of her torso. The Prof reoriented the lamp back toward the reading chair, then opened his gown as he sat down, letting the burgundy fabric drape over each arm of the chair. The Prof liked to have an audience, and Jonathan had found that the other girls were more obedient once they had seen how bad it could get.

The Prof leaned back in his chair and spread his legs so everyone could get an eyeful. The graying thatch on his chest continued down over his prominent belly, thinning only somewhat, then vanished underneath his drooping gut and sprouted up again around his cock and balls before thinning again along his thighs and shins. His wrinkled cock was probably average size when hard, but soft and in the shadow of his belly it seemed puny.

Miss Menzies signaled her readiness by walking out onto the platform created by the open cabinet door. The Prof smiled and leaned across one arm of the chair to pluck her about the hips and bring her to him, level with his chest.

“A pleasure as always, Miss Menzies,” he said, lowering her to the seat of the chair and standing her between his legs. He then selected the pint glass and poured Emma into his waiting palm. He held her wriggling in front of his face, his hazel eyes twinkling and his lips rolling over each other. Without further ceremony, Miss Menzies mounted the Prof’s ballsack and began massaging his dick with her slippery limbs and torso.

By now Jonathan had a pretty good idea of what the Prof was gonna do, but he still didn’t quite understand it. The Prof was quite content to enjoy the sight of the two-inch-tall girl struggling in his grip. Miss Menzies was pacing herself, as her labors could take a while to bear fruit.

“Please let me go!” Emma wailed.

The Prof’s face split into a supremely self-satisfied grin. He raised Emma above his head, tilted his head back, and opened his mouth wide. Emma’s cries blossomed into raw panic and her legs flailed furiously. Jonathan was pleased to see all the other girls were watching raptly, Deirdre still unhappily narrating for Rebecca.

It seemed to Jonathan that the Prof took an unbearably long time before dropping Emma into his mouth, but drop her he did, snapping his jaw shut and muting her screams. The girls in the tank jumped in alarm, but Jonathan knew it was far from over. The Prof brought his head back down to face the tank and regally laid his arms on the chair rests. On cue, Miss Menzies increased the vigor of her ministrations to his cock, which had acquired some definition.

From the movements of the muscles and tendons in his throat and jaw, it was evident that the Prof was using his tongue to give Emma a kinetic tour of his mouth, pausing in favorite locations to suck the fluids from her body. As always, Jonathan looked to see if he could spot any indications that the Prof might be chewing her, but he never could.

Twice, the Prof puckered his lips and extruded part of Emma outside his mouth. First came her legs still kicking and then her round little ass, glistening with who knew how many different fluids. That time the Prof slurped her back into his mouth slowly, so her kicking seemed to accelerate as more and more of her legs vanished between his lips.

The second time Emma emerged only her head and shoulders were visible. She seemed to have exhausted her capacity for screaming, but Jonathan could still hear her tiny gasps for fresh air. The Prof leaned forward slightly (mustn’t disturb Miss Menzies) and held Emma between his lips until the girls in the tank noticed her. He let Emma try to call out to them for a couple of seconds before sucking her back into his mouth with great relish and relaxing back into his chair.

At some point during the proceedings Miss Menzies always shifted from hugging the underside of the Prof’s cock to straddling the top so he could see her grape-sized ass. Jonathan looked and saw that she had already made this transition, her eyes closed as she embraced his shaft and rocked her tits and pussy back and forth along it.

The Prof had been making intermittent low moaning sounds ever since Emma had fallen into his mouth. Now Jonathan could hear a series of grunts originating from the Prof’s diaphragm, seemingly exhorting Miss Menzies to greater exertions. How Emma was experiencing them was anyone’s guess.

Finally the Prof tilted his head back again and Jonathan, who knew to look for it, saw the Prof swallow. If any of the girls in the tank saw it and had a vocal reaction, Jonathan couldn’t hear it over the Prof’s grunts. Reflexively, the Prof shot a hand underneath his balls and pressed hard on his taint; perhaps Miss Menzies could use an assistant to handle prostate duty.

At last the Prof came, an anticlimactic couple of spurts without even the velocity to spray Miss Menzies, although she got smeared when he gripped the base of his cock and pinned her to his hairy underbelly and squeezed out the final drops. Jonathan wondered if Miss Menzies could hear Emma, buried deep within the Prof’s gut.

The demonstration was over as far as Jonathan and the girls in the tank were concerned, but the Prof insisted on first licking Miss Menzies clean and returning her to her quarters. Only then did he wipe himself off and close his dressing gown. Jonathan might have thought he was waiting patiently for the Prof, but his posture indicated otherwise as he thrust the device at the Prof for resetting.

The girls in the tank fled at Jonathan’s approach, but he easily collected Audrey and Janey in one hand and Deirdre and Barb in the other.

“Gonna put you on the floor,” he said. “Hold still so we can enlarge you.”

“What about Rebecca?” Deirdre shouted up from his fist.

“Four at a time, max,” he replied, setting them on the Prof’s grimy hardwood floor. He stepped back as the Prof entered his code into the device and targeted them. A moment later they were 1/16th their original size, twice as big as they had been when Jonathan had taken them out of the tank.

“You said you were gonna enlarge us!” protested Barb. Jonathan snickered.

“Didn’t say by how much.” That trick never got old.

He bent down and gathered the despondent girls back into his grip, then walked over to the table and returned them to his bag. Finally he collected little Rebecca, blinking and bewildered, and put her in the bag as well.

“Six more shots enabled,” the Prof said, handing the device back to Jonathan.

“Great.”

“You left one at two inches.”

“Yeah, she can’t see without her glasses, and my guy has a thing for redheads. He’ll probably get a kick out of her stumbling around his desktop.” The two men shared an evil chuckle.

“Did you work out a maximum range for this thing?” asked Jonathan. “That one you picked I zapped at over twenty yards.”

“Really?” marveled the Prof. “No, that circumstance was never envisioned.” Jonathan didn’t know the term “the passive voice,” but he recognized it in use and distrusted it all the same.

“If I had more shots I could experiment more with the range,” Jonathan said.

“I’m sure, just as I’m sure you could sell even more girls and increase our exposure. I do hope your buyer is showing discretion.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” replied Jonathan vacantly.

“Let me remind you,” warned the Prof, “any attempt to tamper with or disassemble the device will be catastrophic for the tamperer and anyone within approximately 300 feet thereof.”

Jonathan raised his hands conciliatorily.

“I ain’t gonna monkey with it,” he said. “I was just trying to expand our opportunities.”

“Our opportunities are quite sufficient,” the Prof said coolly. Jonathan knew better than to let his face show dissent.

“Same time next month, then,” said Jonathan.

The Prof’s convivial demeanor recovered quickly. “A consummation devoutly to be wished,” he said with a jaunty tilt of his head and opened the door.

As he made his way out of the Prof’s building, Jonathan reflected—not for the first time—that the Prof had enlarged multiple girls with what seemed like a single shot. Up until now Jonathan had been careful to shrink girls only when they were alone. Combined with his discovery of the long-range effectiveness of the device, he imagined that he might be able to increase his monthly catch beyond what the Prof had originally “envisioned.”

Only one way to find out.

I never truly appreciated this expression until I held a tiny lady in my hand.

@nikkiboi2 Everyone deserves to see themselves in size fantasy, and that means greater diversity in body shapes, skin tones, and facial types. This goes for giants, too.

Also, the squishy tinies last longer.

@jitensha I bet you bite, too.

@littlest-lily I’m old enough to know better, but I can’t remember how people made up after a fight before there was texting.

Thank God for Diego. I was about to text Aiden myself.

@littlemejeanine I love when tinies get taunted.