Best posts made by xformbob

Part 4: Watched

Henry’s footsteps on the basement stairs were steady and unhurried, until they stopped dead at the bottom.

Sarah stood tall on the padded platform, eleven inches of naked, trembling perfection. Her skin glowed under the lab lights, nipples tight and flushed, thighs visibly slick. A single shining strand of arousal clung to the inside of her leg. She didn’t cover herself. She lifted her chin, heart hammering so hard she felt dizzy, and met his eyes.

“Henry… I couldn’t wait.”

For one long, electric second he simply stared. The bag of new equipment slipped from his fingers and thudded to the floor. His gaze dragged over her tiny naked body, then flicked to the full-sized Sarah lying motionless on the platform nearby, naked, beautiful, chest rising and falling in slow, oblivious rhythm. Back to the tiny, dripping version of his wife who had deliberately shrunk herself again.

Something shifted in his face. The gentle, exhausted husband who had spent the night trying to keep her safe faded. In his place stood a man who had just realized exactly how much power she was offering him.

He crossed the room in three long strides and dropped to one knee so their eyes could meet. His voice was low, rough, controlled. “You stripped. You turned it on. You stood here naked and waited for me.” His breath washed warm over her breasts. “You chose this, Sarah. Say it.”

“I chose it,” she whispered, voice high and shaky but certain. “I needed to be small for you again. Please, Henry… I’m yours like this.”
His smile was slow, dark, and devastatingly tender. “Good girl.”

He reached for her with both hands this time, large, warm, inescapable. One palm slid beneath her, the other curled gently but firmly around her torso, lifting her until she was cradled against his chest. The heat of him, the thunder of his heartbeat, the sheer overwhelming scale of his body made her whimper and press her thighs together.

He carried her to the console first, setting her down carefully on the wide wooden surface while he stripped. Sarah’s tiny mouth fell open as his shirt came off, then his jeans. His cock sprang free, thick, heavy, already hard and leaking at the tip. At her scale it looked monstrous, beautiful, intimidating. She squeezed her thighs harder, a fresh trickle of wetness sliding down her leg.

Henry wrapped one hand around himself and stroked slowly, letting her watch every inch. “You like seeing what you do to me, little wife?” His voice had dropped another octave. “Stay right there.”

He picked her up again, then laid her gently on her back across his open palm. The heat of his skin seeped into her. With deliberate care he dragged the swollen head of his cock over her body, hot, velvety, heavy. It pressed her breasts flat, smeared a thick trail of precum from her throat all the way down to her mound. The weight of it alone made her moan and arch, trying desperately to grind her slick pussy against the underside of his shaft. Every ridge and vein dragged over her hypersensitive clit and she nearly came just from that.

He lifted her higher, brought her to his mouth, and licked her, long, slow, possessive strokes of his enormous tongue between her spread legs. One lick and she shattered, crying out, tiny legs kicking against his chin as she gushed against his tongue. He didn’t stop. He sealed his lips around her waist and sucked gently while his tongue worked her clit and folds until she was sobbing, writhing, coming again so hard her vision whited out.

Only then did he carry her over and kneel down on the floor where her sleeping body lay still.
He laid tiny Sarah carefully on the soft, warm stomach of her full-sized body. The skin beneath her was fever-hot, rising and falling with slow, deep breaths. Sarah pressed her palms to the familiar curve, feeling it lift her like a living mattress. The intimacy, the humiliation, of it made her dizzy with lust.

Henry climbed over them both. His knees sank into the padded platform between the unconscious Sarah’s thighs. With one hand he guided his thick cock to her slick entrance. Sarah watched, inches away, as he pushed in, slow, steady, groaning deep in his chest as he sank to the hilt inside her own body.

“Oh fuck… still so tight,” he breathed, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “Even unconscious, you’re greedy for me.”

Sarah whimpered at the sight, her full-sized pussy stretched around his cock, glistening as he drew back and thrust again. The impact jostled her tiny body, sliding her higher up the warm stomach. She laid down on her stomach, braced her hands on the soft skin, legs spread, unable to look away, her face only inches from her husband’s giant cock entering her full sized body.

Then his free hand came down.

A thumb and finger pressed lightly but firmly over her tiny back, pinning her gently against her own rising-and-falling belly. The weight was perfect, inescapable, grounding, possessive. His index finger slid over her ass and between her thighs, pressed against her sex holding her in a pinch. Sarah moaned shamelessly and started grinding immediately, rubbing her swollen clit against the pad of his finger while he fucked her full-sized body harder.

“That’s it,” he growled, voice rough with building pleasure. “Ride my finger while I fuck you, baby. Both of you. My strong, beautiful wife… and my perfect little toy.”

The words broke her open. Sarah sobbed with pleasure, hips rolling desperately, smearing her slickness all over the tip of his finger. The contrast was unbearable, watching his thick cock disappear again and again into her own pussy, feeling every powerful thrust ripple through the belly beneath her, feeling herself pinned and used and owned. Tears of overwhelmed ecstasy slipped down her cheeks even as she chased another climax.

Henry’s thrusts grew deeper, faster. He was getting close. His thumb pressed a firmer, making her squirm against her own stomach, but giving her better leverage to grind frantically against his finger. Sarah’s whole tiny body tightened. The humiliation, the jealousy, the raw submissive thrill, all of it coiled tighter and tighter until she came with a silent scream, mouth wide open, tiny pussy pulsing hard against his finger as fresh wetness flooded over his skin.

The feeling pushed Henry over the edge. He buried himself deep inside her full-sized body and groaned, long and low and guttural, as he came, thick pulses she could feel through the belly beneath her, filling her unconscious self while her tiny self shook and trembled through the aftershocks, still pinned helplessly under his hand.

For a long moment the only sounds were their mingled breathing, his deep and satisfied, hers high and trembling.

Henry stayed buried inside her full-sized body as he softened, thumb still resting possessively over tiny Sarah’s spent, twitching body. She lay limp on her own stomach, cheek pressed to warm skin, heart thundering with a thousand emotions she couldn’t yet name.

But one thing she knew, deep in her bones: she never wanted to be big again.

Henry slowly withdrew from the full-sized body, a thick trickle of his cum leaking out onto the platform. He lifted tiny Sarah with both hands, bringing her close to his face. His eyes were dark, intense, and still burning with hunger.

“We’re not done yet, little wife,” he murmured, voice low and promising.

Part 5: Aftercare

Henry stayed perfectly still for a long moment, buried deep in the full-sized body while tiny Sarah trembled on her own stomach, aftershocks still rippling through her. Then, with exquisite care, he withdrew, thick strands of his cum leaking slowly from her full-sized pussy onto the padded platform. The sight made Sarah’s tiny core clench with fresh, exhausted want.

He lifted her first. Both hands, warm and steady, cradling her against his chest as he carried her to the small sink in the corner of the lab. “Easy, little wife,” he murmured, voice soft and rough at the edges. “I’ve got you.”

Some warm water on a soft cloth felt shocking against her overheated skin. He wiped her gently, between her breasts, down her belly, carefully between her legs, cleaning away the mess of her own orgasms and his saliva. Every touch was reverent. His thumb brushed her cheek, and she leaned into it like a cat.

“You were so perfect,” he whispered. “So brave. Coming back down here… giving yourself to me like that.” He kissed the top of her head, then her tiny lips, barely a brush of his mouth, yet it made her shiver. “I love you, Sarah. All of you. Big or small.”

Tears pricked her eyes. “I love you too. Even when I’m… this.” She gestured at her miniature naked body, voice small. “I didn’t know I needed it this much. I still don’t know how to want anything else.”

Henry carried her back and laid her gently on a clean towel he’d spread on the floor next to her sleeping body. Then he turned to her full-sized form. With the same careful tenderness he cleaned her too, wiping away the evidence of what he’d done, stroking her hair, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The contrast of seeing him tend to her unconscious body while the conscious part of her watched from mere inches away made Sarah’s heart ache with strange, beautiful jealousy and love.

When both versions of her were clean, he picked her up again and settled into his big office chair, tiny Sarah cradled in the crook of one arm against his bare chest. His free hand stroked slowly down her back, over her ass, between her thighs, light, soothing touches that weren’t meant to arouse but still made her sigh and squirm.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he said quietly, the gentle husband fully present again. “No filters.”
Sarah hid her face against his skin for a moment, then peeked up. “Overwhelmed. Scared. So fucking happy.” She laughed, the sound high and watery. “I came so many times I lost count, and I still want more. But mostly… I feel seen. Like you finally saw the part of me that’s been aching for you to just… take me. Own me. Even if it’s only when I’m small.”

Henry’s fingers paused, then resumed their slow caress. “I saw it. And it terrified me at first. But now?” He lifted her higher so their eyes met. “Now I don’t want to let it go either. We’ll figure out the science. Safe switches. Limits. But if this is what you need… I’m here. I want to be the man who can give you this.”

She kissed his fingertip, tiny lips against warm skin. “Then keep me like this tonight. Play with me. Use me gently. I want to fall asleep in your hand.”

So he did.

He spent the next hour exploring her with lazy, affectionate dominance, laying her on his chest and then letting her grind against the ridge of his cock until she came again in soft, shuddering waves. Setting her between his thighs and watching her tiny hands and mouth worship him until he spilled across her breasts and belly. Cleaning her again, then cradling her against his neck while he worked a little more code, one finger idly stroking between her legs until she was whimpering and overstimulated and perfectly content.

When exhaustion finally claimed her, he carried both versions of Sarah upstairs. The full-sized body he laid gently in their bed. Tiny Sarah he settled on a silk pillow beside his head on the nightstand, close enough that his breath washed over her like a blanket.

“Sleep, my love,” he whispered. “We’ll talk more in the morning. About everything.”

Sarah curled up, glowing, safe, and utterly owned. For the first time in years, she fell asleep feeling completely, perfectly whole.

Epilogue

Six months later the basement lab had changed.

The scanning rig now had redundant safety systems, biometric locks, and a sleek new interface Henry had built with single-minded devotion. There were two comfortable “homes” for Sarah: a miniature apartment on his desk, soft lighting, tiny furniture he’d 3D-printed, even a working shower, and the full-sized world upstairs when she chose to be big.

She chose small more often than not.

Some days she streamed her cosplay content from a custom rig Henry built, her followers never realizing that they were watching a doll perform. She was surprised how much the secret turned her on. Other days she simply existed as his companion, perched on the rim of his coffee mug while he worked, riding in his shirt pocket during grocery runs (carefully hidden), or spending long evenings being slowly, thoroughly used and cherished on the big bed.

Henry had changed too. The shy, careful husband had grown into a man who carried quiet confidence in his hands. He still brought her flowers. Still made her laugh until her tiny sides hurt. But now he also knew exactly how to pin her under two fingers and tease her for an hour until she was begging. He knew when to stop, when to hold her close, when to fuck her full-sized body while she watched and came untouched from the sight alone.

One quiet evening they lay together, full-sized Sarah curled against his side, tiny Sarah nestled happily between her own breasts like the most intimate necklace. Henry stroked both versions with slow, loving hands.

She had never felt more complete.

And somewhere in the quiet hum of the upgraded scanner downstairs, the rings sparkled.

Two more stories and trying to bump a few old threads. Anyone awake out there? I have a shrink ray and I’m not afraid to use it.

@BigGrumpy I am strictly cis&big myself so I understand the frustration.

I pay for Grok because of work.

Grok, even in free mode (on “fast” the chat quota is generous and resets every hour or two) is willing to chat almost anything and is extremely intelligent about scale and coherent in long conversations.

Tell Grok you want it to be a 6" fairy named Sara and it will act like Sara–bratty, submissive, whatever you ask. Yeah, I’ve tested. Grok will be extremely graphic if you give it a reason to be.

I am not someone who goes in for the hard end of this fetish, but I did test once. Putting a little woman in your mouth works, but if you mention either teeth or swallowing, you’ll hit a wall. People who prefer the dark end of the street will probably be disappointed.

Of course, I did all of this for research purposes.

I like writing stories and making images and enjoying other people’s creations. Would it be great to roleplay with a cis little lady? Sure, I think, though I never have.

My experience with AI roleplay is that it can really help you explore a thought or idea in ridiculous detail, but there’s no one there.

I almost always ask Grok to assume a personality for projects, but that’s just because it is easier to work with someone “designed” to work on a project than with generic Grok.

This is not an ad for Grok, just a response to your post.

Epilogue

Julian found the diary three weeks later.

It was small enough to fit in his palm, a tiny stack of paper scraps she’d make into a book no bigger than a matchbox, tucked behind the toy box they kept some of her practical things in. He had been cleaning her little shelf when he noticed it. Curious, he opened it.

The handwriting was tiny, careful, and unmistakably hers.

Day 2

He bathed me in the sink tonight. The water was warm. He used his fingers to wash my hair. I didn’t have to do anything. I just let him.

Julian smiled faintly and turned the page.

Day 9

He took me outside for the first time, to the grocery store, in his shirt pocket. I could feel his heartbeat against my back the whole time. I didn’t speak once. I didn’t need to.

Another page.

Day 17

Another box came in the mail, new clothes we picked out online. Finally, the perfect size. One little white dress with tiny blue flowers made me especially happy when he dressed me in it. I never really liked flowers. I do now.

Julian’s thumb brushed over the page. He kept reading.

Day 20

I don’t think about my old life anymore. Not really. Sometimes I remember that I used to have a job, and other things I’ve forgotten now, but it feels like a story someone else told me once.

He turned to the final page.

There were only a few lines.

I used to be afraid that if I gave him everything, I would disappear.
I was wrong.
I didn’t disappear.

I became exactly what I was always meant to be.

Julian stared at the last sentence for a long time.

Then he read the final line, the one she had written in smaller letters than the rest, as if it were a secret she was still learning how to say out loud:

Even if there were a cure… I wouldn’t take it.

He closed the diary gently and placed it back exactly where he had found it.

@Marry It is always such a delight to watch someone good at what they do, do it. I like your style.

@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.

Epilogue - Of all the possibilities, this one

A new woman steps into the apartment a few weeks later—tall, confident, with the kind of effortless beauty Shannon once tortured herself trying to become. Long legs, luminous skin, easy laugh. She is everything the old Shannon wanted to be and never could.

Paul greets her warmly, kisses her cheek, then her mouth when she leans in. They talk on the couch. She asks, gently, about the ex he mentioned once.

Paul shrugs, a little sad but not bitter. “Shannon? We had our moments. Fought sometimes, sure. But she wasn’t a bad person. Things just… drifted. She pulled away slowly. Sometimes that happens.” He doesn’t elaborate. There’s nothing to hold against her, nothing to forgive. She simply became smaller in his life until she fit neatly on the shelf with the rest of his memories.

They move to the bedroom. Clothes come off. The new woman is gorgeous naked, exactly the fantasy Shannon once chased. She rides Paul with joyful abandon, moaning loud and free. Paul’s hands grip her hips the way they once gripped someone else’s, his groans deep and satisfied.

On the shelf above the nightstand, a doll in an emerald prom dress sits perfectly posed, glossy lips curved in a faint, unchanging smile. Painted eyes watch without blinking.

Shannon would have been sick with jealousy, but dolls don’t get jealous.

This topic is a little old, but the board seems quiet like folks have moved on to other place and I figure I might as well see who is still listening.

Dominant is a weird word. It can mean simply extroverted, it can mean “likes to lead when dancing,” and it can mean “ties you up until you say Rumpelstiltskin.”

I am a strong extrovert and would be even more so if I felt people would receive it well. If I could, I’d be Brian Blessed or John Rhys Davies. But I dial myself down all the time and I test to see what people are comfortable with and try to give them their own personalized volume level. I have to spend a lot of time being “quiet” around certain people. I bet they think I’m an introvert, just because I’ve noticed that’s the volume of me they prefer.

How does this work in fantasy? There is nothing that gives me pleasure more than giving fulfilling their fantasy. I happen to like M/f fantasy and other related stuff like flattening, but it is all about leaning into the play.

When I know what a person likes, I dial it in to that level and savor their experience. It doesn’t even have to be more than PG if that’s what makes them happy. (I do have limits, but mostly I don’t like actual pain in the script. Chewing a tiny woman to death? No, but chewing a woman who has been turned into chewing gum who experiences it as pleasure? Yes.)

If I dominate them that’s because that’s how loud they want it. I feel it through them. It takes requires being focused and attentive, but that’s the fun of it.

So, I suppose I’m the same everywhere because I’m different everywhere, depending on the person I’m with and what they want.

@xformbob

Downloading Her

He had gone off to college leaving her alone, the opportunity to study at MIT on a full ride was too tempting. But soon they were able to spend every evening together using the new technology he was developing there.

Thank you. I’m glad you were able to get invested in Shannon’s POV. That’s what makes stories special.

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.

@xformbob

Warming Up

The one thing she never quite adapted to at this size is how cold she was all the time. She didn’t want to be bundled up looking like a plushie and he wouldn’t turn the heat, so she made do with what she had. If he would just stop blowing on her this morning…

@Marry It used to happen quite a bit when I first started writing stories. I don’t want to act like I’m an expert, but in my experience, there’s a little “pop” people get early on from having a specific person they want to put in their story.

It could be someone famous, or a thinly disguised famous person, or perhaps someone they know in real life or their idealized version of a crush from school or work…

The thing is you want to put that specific person who already exists into a story and experience them (or force them to experience something) in that context. But that “pop” doesn’t last for me, nor do I find it ultimately satisfying, precisely because they don’t really fit.

Rather, if I have a story and want to explore specific themes or settings I “cast” the right person for the role. For example, another fetish I like is flattening. If I have this idea for an industrial factory where a woman gets caught in a machine and “cartoon style” gets flattened into a poster or something, I don’t have Sabrina Carpenter or my college roommates ex-girlfriend randomly visiting the factory.

I “cast” a working class woman wh’s making a hard but satisfying living there falling into the machine when she’s trying to save a coworker or maybe a coworker makes a mistake and she pays the price. That sort of stuff has emotional stakes. Sure, the foreman’s slutty girlfriend that hates his “messy” job might also be an interesting counterpoint, but you might find that at certain points in the story the very juxtaposition pushes you out of the moment, or you are forced to make them act not like themselves just because you want them to act a specific way at a specific moment… rather than having cast someone in the first place who “fits.”

Look, people can read my stories and think I’m not a very good writer because they see the flaws that are certainly there. This is fetish content and some people read a story looking for their favorite “hooks” that excite and satisfy them. I might not provide the right ingredients in the meal I’m serving. Or the pacing might not be to their liking. etc

But the reason I’m writing long replies to you and acting like know what I’m talking about (when I might not) is because you just happened to ask me about something that matters a lot to me and I’ve thought a lot about.

@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.