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    xformbob

    @xformbob

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    Best posts made by xformbob

    • RE: Anna and Beth (M/ff)

      Part 5 - Day 17: One day in the sun.

      The doll dress that had been purchased yesterday at Anna’s request lay next to her as she stood in front of the small mirror taped to the side of the books and tried, for the third time, to apply a tiny amount of makeup using the edge of a pin and a drop of water. The result was more doll than she had intended, cheeks too bright with eyes too wide, but she did not wipe it off. Instead she slipped on that pale green dress and stepped into the little plastic slippers he had carefully stretched for her. They were still slightly too stiff, but they stayed on her feet and almost felt like shoes.

      Beth watched from the towel without comment. She had agreed to go, but only if Anna came with them and stayed close. She had spent the morning quietly preparing herself for whatever might happen outside. The thought of being carried again made her stomach tight, but the thought of fresh air and open space pulled harder. She did not know if she was giving in or simply being practical. She only knew she wanted to find out which one it was.

      When he returned he carried a small woven picnic basket. Inside were two toy plates, a few carefully cut pieces of fruit and cheese, and a larger plate for himself. A folded square of soft cloth sat in the middle like a cushion. He placed the basket on the desk beside the shelf and opened the lid.

      “You can ride inside,” he said. “Both of you.”

      Anna looked at Beth. Beth gave a small nod.

      They climbed in without being touched. Once the lid closed over them, Anna spoke quietly in the dark.

      “See? I told you he would find a way.”

      Beth did not answer, but she did feel a smile pass over her lips.

      Then a short, or rather giant, walk from his apartment to a quiet corner of a park with a wooden table half-hidden by trees. When he opened the basket the women climbed out on their own and sat on the cloth he had spread. The air was warm and smelled of grass and distant rain. For the first time in weeks they ate without urgency. Anna’s dress caught the light when she moved. Beth glanced at it once, then said, almost gently,

      “You look like a doll someone dressed up for a tea party.”

      Anna smiled instead of bristling. “I know.”

      They talked while they ate, about the color of the sky, the sound of the leaves, the way the grass moved in the breeze. Small things. Safe things. When the food was gone, without a word, Anna brushed herself off, climbed back into the basket, curled up on the remaining cloth, and fell asleep in the shade.

      Evan looked down at Beth.

      She stood up.

      They moved to the other end of the table away from the basket. He sat on the end of the bench and she let her feet dangle off the edge of the table, but her arms were crossed.

      For a while neither of them spoke.

      Then Beth said, “You kidnapped us.”

      Evan was quiet for several seconds. Then he nodded once.

      “I did,” he said. “At least partly. I could have called for help that night. I chose not to. I told myself it was to protect you, and that was true. But it was also true that I wanted to keep you where I could control what happened next. I’m not going to lie to you about that.”

      Beth had expected denial or deflection. The direct answer knocked something loose in her chest.

      He continued, voice steady. “I’m still working on getting access to the reversal research. I think there’s a real path. But it’s going to take time, and there’s no guarantee it will work. I haven’t told Anna how uncertain it is yet. She deserves to know. You both do. There are going to be harder choices ahead.”

      Beth studied his face. He looked tired in a way she had not allowed herself to see before.

      “She’s in love with you,” Beth said. “Crazy in love. And you know it. Don’t take advantage of that.”

      Evan met her eyes without flinching.

      “I’m in love with her too,” he said. “I know how it looks from where you’re standing. But I’m not using her. What’s happening between us is real on both sides. I’m not going to pretend it isn’t complicated or that it started from a clean place. But I’m not lying to her about what I feel.”

      He looked toward the basket where Anna was sleeping.

      “I’m going to take care of both of you,” he said. “Even if you never trust me. Even if you keep seeing me as the man who took you. If you’ll let me make your life a little easier, at least you won’t have to go through this alone.”

      Beth was quiet for a long time. The wind moved through the grass far below her feet.

      Finally she said, “We should let Anna sleep in the basket. You can put me in your shirt pocket for the walk back. I want to see.”

      He nodded. He did not ask if she was sure. He simply reached down, picked her up with careful efficiency, and slipped her into the breast pocket of his shirt. Her head and shoulders cleared the top. She could see the trees, the path, the distant cars lining the street.

      He lifted the basket with Anna still sleeping inside and began the slow walk back to his apartment.

      Beth stayed where she was, watching the park move past her. She did not speak again. Neither did he. The arrangement was understood.

      They were not friends yet. But they weren’t enemies anymore either. Just two people who accepted the situation for what it was. For now, that was enough.

      posted in Stories
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: How would you like your SW?

      @i-am-insane Given that we’re talking here SW and not transformation proper, there are several classics that never disappoint:

      Taking a bath in my soup bowl while I eat my soup spoonful by spoonful from around her slowly leaving her naked and trembling in the bottom (clearly she’ll need some warming up), dusted with powdered sugar laying in the frosting on the top of a flourless chocolate cake (good enough to lick clean and keep on licking), and one of my personal favorites, secretly feeding me salty buttery popcorn from inside the tub in the theater trying not to get caught.

      But in truth there is no meal that could not benefit from a SW as at least a garnish, a utensil, or someone to play with your food.

      posted in Size Fantasy Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: Back Again, Perhaps?

      Story posted successfully, great to see it up and sitting at around 70 views already. Looks like at least a few people have checked it out.

      I’m not fishing for likes, just trying to get a sense of how things work here. Plenty of older threads, but it’s clear some members are still active and regularly adding fresh content.

      Posting on DeviantArt just disappears into the void, so it’s nice to find a small (pun intended), tighter-knit community that doesn’t suffer so much from the cross over from other kink spaces.

      posted in Size Life Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • Some Shrunken Women from the Drawer (AI)

      I supposed that videos might be too large to post here, and I’m still conflicted about whether I should start posting on DeviantArt again. So I figured there’s no harm in sharing some of my older style images.

      The Pressed Flower

      Over the last few weeks she enjoyed spending more and more time confined in the pages of the book. It overwhelmed the fears that had plagued her mind with the brute for of confinement for her body.

      WIqS6U21DM.jpg

      posted in Artwork
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: M/f new world order

      @TakoAlice8 The reason I’ve never written M/f “new world order” type stories is because all the ideas seem to turn towards harems. It would seem to end up more M/fff+

      Back in the days of the Roman empire men having sex was just seen as a biological function of being male and whatever woman who was nearby was useful for that purpose. The only real issue was answering to her father, brother, or husband, assuming he was of sufficient class or power to demand compensation for his property being damaged.

      Now I get some folks around here like the darker side of things, and the over the top stuff hits in a good place for people.

      I suppose one way to do it would be for groups of women to intentionally team up, to look out for each other and find stable relationships that would be more difficult or at least rare with a giant.

      It might be fun to write something where men grow rather than women shrink and perhaps not a lot of men survive the growing process. That way women at least have numbers to balance out the situation. Perhaps some groups of women have even “tamed” a giant.

      posted in Size Fantasy Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: Does anyone use giant/tiny to cope with mental illness

      Do not take anything I say as mental health advice. Work with a trusted therapist who is accountable to you and you can be open with.

      That being said, labels on feelings can help us feel like we are in control, especially when we’ve felt out of control for a long time, but they can also become our identities.

      Fantasies help us manage and escape that. Even JRR Tolkien defended fairy stories (though he didn’t mean smut it still applies) as a way for a prisoner to look out through the bars.

      I have plenty of problems (autistic, if you want one label) but I had the good fortune to be born in a time with thousands of stories, every one of them is an extra lifetime that I wouldn’t have gotten to live.

      I’ve read so many books and so many short stories and every single time I dive in and become someone new and live in their world for a while. Much less expensive than going to Disneyland.

      You can call it a cope. My life doesn’t suck, but I had terrible tragedy in it. I’ve seen some horrible things. But I don’t treat my many lives as cope, but as the kaleidoscope of me that’s gotten to live all those thousand lifetimes while only having one to spend.

      posted in Size Life Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • Henry and Sarah (M/f)

      Part 1: The Duplicate

      Sarah stood in the middle of Henry’s cluttered home lab, hands resting on her hips, the soft blue glow of half a dozen monitors painting shifting patterns across her body. The new cosplay costume fit like it had been poured onto her, sleek black and crimson panels that hugged the full swell of her breasts, cinched tight at her waist, and flared over the generous curve of her hips. The thigh-high boots added three inches she almost never got to enjoy in real life. Henry was exactly her height, five-foot-eight, and for years he’d gently discouraged heels with that shy, affectionate smile of his. “I like seeing your eyes at the same level,” he would say, brushing a thumb along her cheek. Sweet. Safe. Frustratingly safe.

      Tonight she had worn the full outfit downstairs for him, not just the camera. The fabric whispered against her skin as she turned slowly, letting the dramatic lighting catch every seam and contour. “Baby… what do you think?” Her voice carried that playful lilt she used on camera, but underneath it was something quieter. Hopeful. A little desperate.

      Henry looked up from his keyboard, glasses slipping down his nose, the messy bun of his longish hair slightly crooked from hours of focus. Silver had begun threading through his beard in the last couple of years, but his eyes still lit with that same boyish wonder every time he saw her. For a moment he simply stared, lips parted.

      “Holy shit, Sarah.” He let out a low breath. “You look… incredible. The detailing on the gauntlets, the way the panels sit, damn. Your subscribers are going to lose their minds.”
      The compliment landed warm in her chest, but it wasn’t quite the flame she’d been hoping for. Not the rough edge she sometimes imagined in the shower when her hand moved faster between her legs. Still, she stepped closer, boots clicking softly on the concrete floor, letting her hips sway just a little more than necessary.

      “I was thinking maybe you could help me with some reference shots?” She let her gaze linger on him. “Or… something else, if you’re feeling inspired.”

      Henry’s cheeks flushed that familiar, endearing pink. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit that had never changed in all their years together. “Actually… I’ve been working on the new neural capture upgrade. It can do full-body scans now, texture, subsurface scattering, dynamic movement mapping, the works. What if we made a perfect digital duplicate of you in that costume? You could use it for thumbnails, 360-degree spins, even virtual try-ons for your fans. It’d be fun. And… kind of intimate, right? Just us.”

      A strange little thrill traced down Sarah’s spine, electric and unexpected. A copy of her. A perfect copy. The idea felt oddly vulnerable, almost naughty, like letting someone else wear her skin.

      “You mean like… clone me?” she asked, half teasing, half genuinely curious.

      “Not clone, duplicate.” He stood up, gesturing proudly toward the scanning rig in the center of the lab: two tall, elegant rings of sensors, soft LED lighting arrays, and a padded circular platform that looked like something out of a sci-fi film. “Come on. It’ll only take a couple of minutes. You just stand still, arms slightly out, and it does the rest. I’ll be right here the whole time.”

      She laughed, soft and warm, the sound filling the quiet basement. “Alright, nerd. For science.” She stepped onto the platform, striking a confident pose, hips cocked, one hand resting on the prop pistol strapped to her thigh, chin lifted. Henry’s eyes did linger this time, tracing the way the crimson panels stretched across her chest with each breath. Good. At least the costume still had that effect on him.

      He sat back down at the console, fingers flying across the keys. “Okay… initiating full-spectrum scan. Try not to move, love.”

      The rings began to rotate around her with a low, rising hum. Warm lights swept over her body in slow, deliberate passes. At first it felt pleasant, like sunlight on bare skin, or the gentle pressure of Henry’s hands when he massaged her shoulders after a long editing day. Sarah closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy the strange intimacy of it. Every inch of her being mapped. Seen. Captured.

      Then the sensation deepened. A tingling that sank beneath her skin, pressing inward, as if the air itself was learning the exact shape of her breasts, the curve of her waist, the soft give of her thighs. Her breathing slowed. A heavy, velvety drowsiness rolled through her limbs.

      “Henry…” Her voice sounded far away even to her own ears. “I feel kind of… sleepy all of a sudden.”

      “It’s normal,” he reassured her, though his voice had grown distant, focused. “The neural lock is pulling a bit more power than I expected. Just relax into it, baby. I’ve got you.”
      Her knees wobbled. The world tilted gently, colors bleeding together. She tried to speak again, but the words melted into a soft sigh as darkness folded over her like warm velvet.
      When awareness returned, it crashed in with a jolt of pure wrongness.

      Sarah blinked hard against blinding lights. The padded platform stretched out around her like an endless stage. She looked down at herself, still wearing the skintight costume, every seam and panel perfectly in place, but her body was tiny. Ten, perhaps eleven inches tall at most. Barbie-doll scale. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she took one shaky step forward; the surface felt vast and soft beneath her miniature boots.

      “What… the fuck?” Her voice came out high and clear, but impossibly small, a bell-like squeak that made her own ears ring.

      She spun around and froze.

      There, slumped just outside the scanning rig, was her body. Full-sized. Breathing slowly and deeply, the rise and fall of her chest making the crimson panels shift and gleam. Her own face, eyes closed, lips softly parted, cheeks faintly flushed, looked serene and enormous from this new, terrifying perspective.

      And Henry… Henry was on his knees beside the full-sized Sarah, one hand pressed to her neck to check her pulse, his face pale with panic. His glasses had slid even further down his nose. “Sarah? Sarah, wake up, oh god, what did I do? The neural transfer protocol wasn’t supposed to activate like that. Fuck, fuck, fuck, ”

      He looked so small in that moment, despite towering over her new form. So scared. So hers.

      Sarah’s tiny hands flew to her mouth. Her consciousness… it hadn’t been copied. It had been moved. She was in the duplicate now, solid, real, and heartbreakingly small.
      “Henry!” she called, waving her arms frantically. “Henry, I’m over here! Inside the scanner!”

      His head snapped up. His gaze locked onto her miniature body, and for one long, breathless second the only sound was the low whine of the imaging system slowly powering down.
      Sarah watched his eyes travel over her, taking in every exaggerated, perfect curve the scan had captured, the way the costume still clung obscenely tight to her shrunken breasts and ass, the tremble in her tiny legs. A deep flush crept up his neck. The panic in his face didn’t vanish, but something else flickered through it. Something darker. Hungrier. The kind of look she had secretly ached to see for years.

      “Sarah…?” His voice cracked, rough around the edges. “Holy shit. You’re… you’re so small.”

      She planted her hands on her hips, trying to summon the confident cosplayer energy even at this ridiculous scale, even as her pulse thundered in her ears. “Yeah, no kidding. Your ‘perfect duplicate’ decided to steal my consciousness and shrink me.” She swallowed hard. “Fix this, husband.”

      But even as the words left her lips, a wicked, electric thrill uncurled low in her belly. For the first time in their marriage, she was literally looking up at him. And the way his gaze kept drifting over her tiny, helpless body made her wonder, just for a heartbeat, if either of them really wanted to fix this anytime soon.

      posted in Stories
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: Giants, what's your favorite way to humiliate a tiny?

      How about just making her confess how much she enjoys whatever it is you are doing to her?

      This is especially effective with girls who like to play brats. Just get her to admit some aspect of the experience turns her on and she’s get so worked up her face will pop.

      It works so well because it comes from inside her rather than being forced on the outside.

      posted in Size Fantasy Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • Back Again, Perhaps?

      Well, I’ve already messed up by trying to post my new story in parts. Apparently I didn’t wait long enough between posts and I’m flagged as a spammer. I hope I haven’t broken something.

      I decided to stop by and see what’s what and whether there are still active communities out there for size stuffs. I’ve been around since the early days of the web, usually popping in for a while, make a few collages, write a story or so, and then I’ve disappeared for long periods of time because I’ve needed to clean up my internet footprint. I’m sure I’m not the only person that needs to keep this “hobby” private.

      I was disappointed when I started looking around DeviantArt. There’s a lot of content, but I was surprised when I looked at art or stories I thought were particularly good, but hardly anyone had seen, much less hit favorite or watched.

      Weird, some 200 accounts I’ve found that have some sort of shrinking woman or adjacent stuff, but a lot of them hardly get any engagement. Seems like the old forums might have been much better for that.

      So I wrote a new story (starting over again from scratch as usual) and I’m going to try to post the rest of the parts if the anti-spam software lets me. Read it if you want, or not, I’m just here to see what’s what.

      posted in Size Life Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: Henry and Sarah (M/f)

      (if the anti-spam will let me post)

      Part 2: Overwhelmed

      Sarah’s tiny heart hammered so hard she could feel it pulsing in her throat. Eight inches tall. A perfect, living miniature of herself, still wrapped in the skintight assassin costume that now felt almost obscenely revealing. The black and crimson panels clung to every exaggerated curve, the way her breasts strained against the fabric, the impossible tightness across her ass, the smooth expanse of thigh left bare between boot and hem. She looked like the most expensive, explicit collectible a fan could ever dream of owning.

      And Henry was staring.

      Not with panic anymore. With something darker. Hungrier.

      He stayed on his knees for a long moment, just looking at her. His breath came slow and deep, each exhale washing over her like warm wind. Sarah wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly, acutely aware of how little the costume actually covered at this scale. Her nipples had already tightened into hard little peaks against the fabric.

      “Henry…” Her voice came out high and breathy, barely more than a squeak. “We should… we need to figure out how to reverse this. Right?”
      He didn’t answer right away. Instead he reached out, slowly, giving her time to step back if she wanted. One large hand, warm and slightly calloused from years of tinkering, settled on the edge of the platform. His fingers were thicker than her arm. The sheer size of him made her stomach flip.

      “I know,” he murmured, voice rougher than she’d ever heard it. “I know we should. But look at you, Sarah. God. Every detail is perfect. The scan even caught that little flush on your chest when you’re turned on.” His thumb hovered just above her, then brushed, infinitely gentle, down the side of her body. The pad of it dragged over the curve of her hip, pressing the costume against her skin. Heat bloomed everywhere it touched.

      Sarah gasped, knees buckling. The contact was electric, overwhelming. A single finger, and she already felt caged, held, seen in a way that made her head spin. “Henry, careful, ” The protest melted into a soft, humiliating moan as his thumb settled lightly against her back, steadying her. Two fingers. That was all it took for him to gently cage her upper body between them. She was trapped, helpless, and the realization sent a fresh rush of wetness slicking between her thighs.

      “You’re shaking,” he whispered, awed. His face filled her entire field of vision now, those familiar eyes dark behind his glasses, the silver in his beard catching the lab lights. “Are you scared, little wife?”

      A little, she wanted to say. But the truth was more complicated. Fear and arousal had tangled so tightly inside her she couldn’t separate them. This was her Henry, her safe, gentle, slightly awkward husband, and yet the way he was looking at her right now made her feel like prey. Delicious, willing prey.

      “A little,” she admitted, cheeks burning. “But… it feels…” She couldn’t finish. Because it felt good. The heat radiating from his skin, the gentle but undeniable strength in his fingers, the way her full-sized body lay unconscious just a few feet away, chest rising and falling in slow, oblivious rhythm, while this tiny, hypersensitive version of her was already dripping for him.

      Henry’s eyes softened for a heartbeat, the loving husband still there. “If it’s too much, tell me. I’ll stop. I swear.”

      The offer melted something deep in her chest even as it made her pussy clench with need. She shook her head, tiny curls bouncing. “Don’t stop. Please… I just, I’ve never felt anything like this.”

      That was all the permission he needed.
      He lifted her slowly, carefully, until she was level with his face. His breath ghosted over her breasts and belly in hot waves. Sarah whimpered, back arching without permission. When his lips parted and his tongue, hot, wet, impossibly large, brushed a slow, deliberate line from her navel up between her breasts, she cried out. The slick heat soaked through the costume instantly. Every tastebud dragged across her skin like warm velvet, and her nipples throbbed so hard she thought she might come from that single lick alone.

      “Henry, oh fuck, ” Her tiny hands flew up, fingers digging into the soft skin just above his upper lip as another long, lazy stroke of his tongue covered her from belly to throat. He was tasting her. Exploring her like the most precious, filthy toy he’d ever been given.

      He pulled back just enough to speak, voice husky and low. “You taste like you. Exactly like you. But… sweeter somehow. More concentrated.” His free hand moved to her full-sized body, brushing a strand of hair from its, no, her face with heartbreaking tenderness. The contrast hit Sarah like lightning: her strong, confident self lying helpless and unaware, while this tiny, trembling version writhed in his fingers, soaking herself, desperate.

      The jealousy and humiliation only made her wetter.

      “Please…” The word slipped out, small and needy and shameful.

      Henry’s smile was slow, new, carrying just the faintest edge of teeth. “Please what, little Sarah?”

      She hated, loved, how that nickname made her core tighten. “Touch me. More. I… I shouldn’t want this so badly, but I do. Henry, I need, ”
      He didn’t make her finish.

      Two thick fingers slipped under her ass, lifting and spreading her legs as he brought her closer again. His tongue pressed firmly against the seam of the costume right over her aching pussy and rubbed in slow, devastating circles. The fabric was drenched in seconds, hers and his saliva. Every ridge of his tongue ground against her swollen clit through the thin material, and Sarah’s tiny body bowed hard, a high, keening cry tearing from her throat.

      She came embarrassingly fast. Pleasure crashed through her like a storm far too big for her miniature frame. Her legs shook violently, heels digging into his palm, hips grinding desperately against the hot, slick pressure of his tongue. A fresh gush of wetness flooded the costume as she sobbed his name over and over, tears of pure overwhelm pricking at the corners of her eyes.

      When the peak finally ebbed, she slumped boneless in his hand, panting, trembling, face burning with mortification and lingering bliss. Henry kissed the top of her head, soft, almost reverent, then cradled her gently against his chest. His heartbeat thundered under her ear like a drum.

      “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, voice thick with awe and something deeper, darker. “My strong, confident wife… coming apart so completely in my hand like this.”

      Sarah hid her burning face against the warm skin of his thumb, mortified and glowing at the same time. Part of her still whispered that this was insane, that they should reverse it immediately. But a much louder, much hungrier part was already aching for whatever came next. She could see how hard he was through his jeans, huge, insistent. Henri had his free hand balancing himself, his fingers wrapped around her full-sized thigh where her body rested nearby.

      She wanted him to strip her unconscious body and fuck it while she watched, helpless and dripping. The filthy thought made her whimper again, a fresh trickle of arousal sliding down her inner thigh inside the ruined costume.

      Henry seemed to sense the shift in her. His fingers stroked slowly down her back, possessive and soothing at once. “We’ll figure out how to get you back,” he murmured, though the promise sounded a little less certain now. “I promise. But first… I need to understand every inch of what you are now. If you’ll let me.”

      Sarah lifted her head just enough to meet his eyes. Her voice was small, shaky, but honest.

      “Yes, Henry. I’ll let you.”

      posted in Stories
      xformbob
      xformbob

    Latest posts made by xformbob

    • RE: Does your size identity affect your body image?

      @TakoAlice8 I’ve been doing some thinking about this, because I genuinely didn’t feel like my interest with Shrinking Women (or some of the other related kinks) had any connection to my body. I’d always assumed this was springing up from my overactive imagination. This was always a “creative” outlet for me and I saw my interest in it as sort of the adult version of when kids play cowboys and indians.

      Now the unnecessary autobiography.

      But I did realize something that might be more like what some folks have talked about. I have always been a big guy. I’m just over 6’ and lift weights, I played a bunch of sports in high school (I was/am built like a lineman not a quarterback). And I have a rather big personality.

      I guess you could think of my natural disposition as John Rhys-Davies or Brian Blessed, or if you watch anime “that American guy” who is usually a mechanic. I was in theatre and loved the stage, I sing well and play a couple of instruments.

      But from early on I was constantly being told to be quiet or various other versions of “don’t stand out and don’t take up space”. The church I grew up in was full of people who were salt of the earth small town people, and the culture there was positive but sober. They didn’t like noise or noisy people (we sang acapella with no mics etc).

      My father (also a big man) constantly cautioned me that my size, my voice, my manner would put people off. He was in sales and had constantly had to temper his own size and personality to be a good salesman. So what did I do? I cranked hard down. After a few years I found that I had formed a habit of constantly dialing down, pulling back, trying to take up less space.

      Despite my strength I’m constantly frustrated that I hold things too delicately. I touch everything like I’m going to break it. Can you see where this is going?

      Girls like manliness, of course. But I’ve been programmed for decades that girls are fragile and breakable. So…

      Oddly enough now that I look at it, I can see the symmetry. If I could shrink a woman, she could enjoy all the intensity she wanted she could be satisfied by the overwhelming experience of masculine energy and I want that for any woman I am intimate with. She can have that even while I’m holding back, holding her like she might shatter. I don’t have to worry about hurting her or scaring her in a bad way, she wants my “bigness”.

      Anyway, I don’t think that’s why I have the kink, but it certainly is why the kink and others related to it continue to flourish in my imagination year after year.

      posted in Size Life Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: Size con online 2026

      @The-Big-G This seems like a cool idea, though I feel a bit odd trying to be as anonymous as possible while other people are being more open about everything. Anyone who has ever attended via online want to share their experience?

      posted in Meetups & Events
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: How would you like your SW?

      @i-am-insane Given that we’re talking here SW and not transformation proper, there are several classics that never disappoint:

      Taking a bath in my soup bowl while I eat my soup spoonful by spoonful from around her slowly leaving her naked and trembling in the bottom (clearly she’ll need some warming up), dusted with powdered sugar laying in the frosting on the top of a flourless chocolate cake (good enough to lick clean and keep on licking), and one of my personal favorites, secretly feeding me salty buttery popcorn from inside the tub in the theater trying not to get caught.

      But in truth there is no meal that could not benefit from a SW as at least a garnish, a utensil, or someone to play with your food.

      posted in Size Fantasy Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: Is this

      @GiantAss I popped in and dropped a few stories a couple of weeks ago to see if I could get some spark going. It seems every few days someone else will post something. But I’d say generally no. I’m not really sure if there is an active space anymore.

      The only thing I can guess is that most of the SW community is in private Discords now. There are a few people who post some amazing content images and videos on DeviantArt (if you don’t mind AI stuff) but even with a high follower count there’s no real interaction/community.

      The last time I saw any real spark was when Littlest-Lily was posting Out of their Element back in 2023 on DA. She’d get 10-20 comments per post and people really talked about the story. There were some other writers around that time too that all seemed to be getting interest especially from women.

      There was a burst of romantic material around that time centered more on Giant men, per se, than Shrinking Women. At least that’s what it seemed like to me.

      posted in Size Fantasy Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: M/f new world order

      @TakoAlice8 The reason I’ve never written M/f “new world order” type stories is because all the ideas seem to turn towards harems. It would seem to end up more M/fff+

      Back in the days of the Roman empire men having sex was just seen as a biological function of being male and whatever woman who was nearby was useful for that purpose. The only real issue was answering to her father, brother, or husband, assuming he was of sufficient class or power to demand compensation for his property being damaged.

      Now I get some folks around here like the darker side of things, and the over the top stuff hits in a good place for people.

      I suppose one way to do it would be for groups of women to intentionally team up, to look out for each other and find stable relationships that would be more difficult or at least rare with a giant.

      It might be fun to write something where men grow rather than women shrink and perhaps not a lot of men survive the growing process. That way women at least have numbers to balance out the situation. Perhaps some groups of women have even “tamed” a giant.

      posted in Size Fantasy Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: What Is The Dollhouse's Policy On AI Art?

      @Jitensha My apologies to our host then for my AI “art” posts.

      As I said before, I spend a lot of time and thought on the pieces I work on. And they mean a great deal to me, but I understand why both in terms of the mechanisms behind the generation and they way people use it, that its just never going to be OK with some folks. I guess when it’s the only thing you’ve got, you make do. I’ve tried other media many times in my life and always come up “short” as it were. Back in the day I was pretty good at making collages, but honestly that still gets the quotes around “art” too.

      Based on these comments I won’t post anymore AI generated images. Fortunately I’m working on some story ideas. I’m hoping I haven’t spoiled anyone’s pudding too badly and they can at least enjoy my writing.

      posted in Community Help
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: Giant Men > Shrunken Women

      @foreverlurk In the past I tried writing M/f stories that were giant men with normal sized ladies. Woman lost in the woods found by a giant, woman through a portal into a world of giants, giant aliens in spaaace…

      Even though these scenarios and others are narratively rich, as a straight guy it is hard for me to put the camera “on the giant” so to speak. I like being a giant, but as soon as you write a story about a giant in the woods finding a lost normal sized woman (from the giant’s POV), it feels like an SW story with additional steps.

      It isn’t really even a kink thing (liking something and not liking something else) it is just how to write the actual prose (or how to make the actual pictures from a truly giant point of view). I also know that some people just love the power fantasy of busting up a building or city, but I’ve never even attempted to write something like that.

      This is probably on the edge of polite conversation, but when I’ve chatted (this was a problem more in the old days as people are more careful now) … I found the people who told me they liked giant stuff were actually gay (trans was super rare back then) and would “surprise penis” … maybe they were just trolls, but respecting people’s sexuality even us boring straight guys (is it boring to be into shrunken women?) would be nice.

      posted in Size Fantasy Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: Question about Archive of Our Own

      I found some ASMR shrink stuff on YouTube and via the Reddit community, I think it was called audio-gone-wild or something like that. But as you say, the shrink stuff is both limited and buried.

      Also, the shrink stuff is almost always less intense, more PG, weaker shorter stories, and often just some fairy smut. I like fairies but that’s limiting. I haven’t found anything like the wide variety of stories and images I’ve seen our community produce over the years (especially in the hey day of the message boards back in the day).

      The truth is, the best consistent Shrunken Women content has been comics. Like our Jitensha’s work.

      I was thinking, since I like to write stories, I might try my hand at ASMR. I’m told I have a good voice. But while it might be fun to make, the guys aren’t going to listen to it, and there are so few girls around I’m not sure it would suit them.

      I could work a long time on something I was proud of creatively only to have maybe one or two women ever listen to it and it might not have included the specific hooks they are looking for.

      I’m back posting in the M/f community because I’m motivated to create new stuff, and I don’t want to lose my present motivation with a big project that falls flat.

      posted in Size Fantasy Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • Question about Archive of Our Own

      What are the impressions of Ao3 as a place to share stories that include fetish/kink content? I am aware that there are “shrink” tagged stories there, though it is often confusing to find them.

      It seems like stories, while supported on DeviantArt as a medium aren’t really the interest of the user base.

      I am delighted that my stories here have received so many views here, but it seems like (as has always been the case) the community has ebbs and flows.

      This forum appeals to me for many reasons and I’d like to learn to interact here more fruitfully of course. But I’ll confess that I have been unsuccessful in promoting conversation organically.

      Clearly people are here, the high view counts are demonstration of that. But it has always been “deep magic” to motivate the lurkers to post.

      posted in Size Fantasy Chat
      xformbob
      xformbob
    • RE: Some Shrunken Women from the Drawer (AI)

      @xformbob

      At the Classroom Door

      This was the third incident this week after the lab accident. She was relieved that everyone else had left the room before it happened. But then she noticed him at the classroom door.

      pgWKCickGt.jpg

      posted in Artwork
      xformbob
      xformbob