Posts made by xformbob

Part 4: The Consequences

Two months later, the wedding had been quietly scaled back to something small and private. The venue had been changed, the guest list cut to a handful of trusted friends, and they were still trying to figure out how to explain Lily’s condition to the folks who would actually be there. Every time Julian brought it up, Lily changed the subject. She wasn’t ready to face it yet.

Eventually he had given in and taken her shopping. Not to the women’s section, but to the children’s department, where the sizes actually fit her four-foot frame. She had been embarrassed at first, but Julian had been patient, picking things out for her, holding them up, asking what she liked. She had learned to alter a few pieces herself, taking in the waist here, letting out the chest there, using her old sewing machine. Her tomboy build, the one she had always hated, had finally come in handy.

She was starting to like it. The way he chose things for her. The way he sometimes dressed her in the mornings, buttoning her shirt or adjusting the fit like she was something precious he was wrapping up. It made her feel small in a different way. Safe. Owned.

But the tests had come back, and the news was worse than they had feared.

Julian sat her down on the couch that afternoon, his expression grim. “The shrinking isn’t reversing. I’ve done every test I can think of. Something in your metabolism has changed. The serum might eventually leave your system… but it could take years. Or it might never happen at all.”

Lily stared at him, her small hands clenched in her lap. “Permanent.”

“We don’t know for sure yet. But we have to be realistic. This isn’t just going to go away on its own. And if we keep going…” He ran a hand through his hair. “Lily, this is going to derail your entire life. Your career, your independence, our wedding… everything. We have to stop. Now. No more serum. No more shrinking. We deal with what we have and figure out how to move forward.”

She looked up at him, something defiant flickering in her dark eyes. “I don’t want to move forward like this. I want to go smaller.”

“Lily!?”

“I know what I’m doing,” she said, standing up. Even at four feet, she could feel the power radiating off him when he was like this, serious, protective, in control. It made her stomach twist with something hot and needy. “I’m not a child. I can make my own choices. And part of me made this choice weeks ago.”

“You’re not thinking clearly. This isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about us. Our future. I’m not going to let you throw everything else away because we’re chasing some… some fetish.”

The word hung in the air between them. Fetish. Dangerous. Reckless. Something they had played with and now had to pay for.

Lily’s cheeks burned, but she didn’t back down. “It’s not just a fetish. Not anymore. I want this, Julian. I want you to take care of me. I want to be small. I want to be yours in a way that no one else gets to have. And if that means giving up the wedding, or my career, or whatever else… then maybe that’s the price.”

He stared at her for a long moment, something unreadable in his expression. Then he stood up, towering over her. “No more serum. That’s final. I’m taking control of this situation, Lily. For your own good. And you’re going to let me.”

She should have been angry. She should have fought back. Instead, a deep, liquid heat pooled between her legs. She liked this. She liked him taking charge, making decisions, telling her what she could and couldn’t do. It was terrifying. And it was exactly what she wanted.

That night, Julian fell asleep on the couch with his laptop still open on his chest. Lily waited until his breathing deepened, then slipped downstairs to the lab like she had done before. She had to make this one last decision for herself. He might not be able to accept the consequences yet, but she could. And he could come around in time.

Back in the bathroom, she locked the door and injected both vials at once.

The warmth hit her like a freight train. She barely had time to strip before it started, her body compacting in on itself with that same delicious, right sensation, only stronger this time. Much stronger. She sank to the floor, legs spread, one hand between her thighs as the shrinking took hold. The orgasm hit her halfway down, sudden and violent, her tiny body shaking as wave after wave crashed through her. She came again before it even finished, sobbing and gasping as she shrank from four feet to three, then two and a half, then finally two feet tall.

When it stopped, she lay there panting, slick with sweat and her own wetness, staring up at the ceiling that now seemed impossibly far away. Two feet. She looked like a doll. A very satisfied, very guilty doll.

She cleaned herself up as best she could, wrapped a hand towel around herself, and made her way down the hall. Using the edge of the coffee table for leverage, she climbed up onto the couch beside Julian’s sleeping form. She was naked under the towel, still flushed, still trembling from the aftershocks. He looked like a giant. Like her entire world was asleep in front of her.

She reached out with her tiny hand and touched his cheek.

Julian’s eyes opened slowly. For a moment he didn’t seem to understand what he was seeing. Then his face went through a dozen emotions in the space of a second — shock, anger, fear, and something darker.

“Lily,” he said, voice low and rough with sleep. “We just got done arguing about this… then you go off and…”

She looked up at him, two feet tall and completely at his mercy, and felt something inside her finally let go.

“Then I go off and shrink again,” she said softly. “I’m… not sorry. I know what I did.”

Julian stared at her for a long moment. Then he sat up carefully, picked her up like she weighed nothing, and settled her in his lap. His hands were gentle, but his eyes were anything but.

“So you went and did it anyway,” he said quietly. “After everything we talked about. After I told you we were done.”

She nodded, heart pounding.

He was quiet for a long time, his thumb stroking absently along her tiny back. She could feel the war happening inside him, the part of him that wanted to protect her, to control the situation, and the part that was undeniably, dangerously turned on by how small and helpless she had made herself.

Finally, he spoke.

“So, you’ve gone and done it and now play time is over,” he rambled through his thoughts. “From now on, you don’t do anything without asking. You don’t make decisions without me. And if you ever do something like this again…” He trailed off, his grip tightening just slightly.

His head cleared and then spoke in a tone she hadn’t heard before,“I’m going to have to figure out how to make this work. Do you understand?”

Lily looked up at him, heart pounding, body already responding to the shift in his voice. She had never felt smaller. Or safer.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I understand.”

And for the first time, she meant it.

Part 3: The Shift

Three days later, Lily was still five-foot even.

She stood in front of the bedroom mirror for her morning ritual, trying on clothes and eventually giving up, settling for another oversized shirt and shorts that now felt like the only things that belonged to her. She had tried to get him to take her shopping the day before, but he had brushed it off with a tight smile and a comment about “not giving up yet.” She knew what he meant. He was still hoping she would grow back. She wasn’t.

Julian had been running tests every day, bloodwork, scans, metabolic panels. Every time the results came back the same: her body wasn’t reversing the changes. The serum had done something to her at a cellular level, and it wasn’t letting go.

He was worried. She could see it in the way his shoulders stayed tight, in the way he kept checking on her even when she told him she was fine. He had started doing things for her without asking — picking up groceries on his way home, handling phone calls with her agent when she didn’t feel like dealing with work, even folding her laundry because “it’s easier if I just do it.” She told herself she should resent it. She was a grown woman. She didn’t need to be taken care of.

But the truth was, she liked it.

She liked the way he looked at her now, protective, focused, completely absorbed in making sure she was okay. She liked seeing him take charge like he did in the lab. It felt safe. It felt right. And every time he did something for her, something low and warm unfurled in her belly, the same feeling she got when she thought about shrinking smaller.

She wanted more. She wanted him to be bigger. She wanted to disappear into his care. But Julian had made it very clear: no more serum. Not until they understood what was happening. Not until they knew if it was reversible.

Lily hated him just a little for that, for wanting her to be… big again.

That afternoon, while Julian was out picking up more lab supplies, she stood in front of the locked cabinet in the basement where he kept the serum. She knew the code. She had watched him enter it enough times. Her hands were shaking as she typed it in, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The hunger was too loud.

She took one vial. Then, almost without thinking, she took a second.

Back upstairs, she locked herself in the bathroom and injected both at once. The warmth hit her faster and harder than before, she passed so close to an orgasm she could taste it. She sank to the floor, breathing through the regrettable near miss, watching the world grow around her as her body compacted in on itself. When it stopped, she was four feet tall. Petite. Tiny. The bathroom counter now loomed above her.

She stood up on shaky legs and stared at herself in the mirror. Four feet. She looked fragile. Breakable. But the hungry look in her own eyes looked dangerous, even at this size.

Her body was still reacting, nipples tight, thighs slick, a deep, aching emptiness between her legs that demanded to be filled. She was so horny she could barely think straight. The serum had done this to her before, but never this intensely. She needed Julian. She needed him to fuck her, to hold her down, to make her feel small and owned and completely his.

She had to make him understand.

It had been far more work than she had anticipated, but by the time Julian came home, she had set the scene. Candles on the nightstand. Soft music playing. She had some of her lingerie, black and lacy, carefully draped around her pooling on the bed as if she had just shrunk out of them. And just as she thought she had gotten her pose right, he walked into the bedroom.

Julian stopped in the doorway, his eyes widening as he took her in. For a moment, he didn’t speak. She could see the conflict on his face, the worry, anger, and something else. Something darker. Hungrier. His gaze dragged over her tiny body, and she watched his jaw tighten as he fought to stay in control.

“Lily… what the fuck?”

She sat up slowly, the lingerie slipping to pool around her waist hoping it had the right effect on him she wanted, and looked up at him with wide, dark eyes. “I couldn’t wait. I needed it. I needed to feel it again.”

His jaw tightened further. “You stole from me.”

“I know.” She looked down, tilting her head in a gesture of submission she didn’t have to fake. “And I know you’re mad. But Julian… look at me. I’m so small. I’m so wet. I need you.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. “Lily, this is serious. We don’t know what this is doing to you. You can’t just…” His voice was rough, caught between scolding her and something else. She could hear the arousal threading through the worry. He was getting hard. She could see it in the way his eyes kept drifting over her, in the way his hands flexed like he was fighting the urge to touch her.

“Please,” she whispered, crawling close and pressing her body against his thigh. “I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want. Just… fuck me. Please.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. She could feel the war happening inside him, the part of him that wanted to protect her, to control the situation, and the part that was getting undeniably, dangerously turned on by how small she was. How completely at his mercy she had made herself.

Then something in his expression shifted. The worry and anger gave way to something darker. Hungrier. He picked her up like she weighed nothing, the pretense of lingerie forgotten, and laid her down on the bed with a gentleness that made her heart ache.

This time, the sex was slower. More deliberate. He took his time with her, kissing every inch of her smaller body, tasting her, teasing her until she was sobbing and begging. When he was absolutely sure she could take him in, he pushed inside her with careful, measured thrusts, watching her face the entire time. She came instantly, her tiny frame shaking beneath him as wave after wave crashed through her. He followed soon after, groaning her name as he filled her, his hands gripping her hips like he never wanted to let go.

Afterward, he held her against his chest, his fingers stroking through her hair. “You can’t do that again,” he murmured. “You can’t just take it without telling me. I need to keep you safe, Lily. I need to take care of you.”

She smiled against his skin, warm and content and already planning her next move.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.”

And for the first time, she didn’t feel guilty about wanting more.

She just felt his.

Part 2: The Second Dose

Lily woke up the next morning wearing Julian’s old T-shirt like a dress and a pair of her old dolphin shorts with the draw string pulled all the way tight to keep them up. They no longer hugged her ass the way she liked, but nothing else in her closet fit. The black dress from the night before was a crumpled pile on the floor, and every pair of jeans she owned now hung off her hips like they belonged to someone else. She stood in front of the bedroom mirror for a long time, turning slowly, studying the way the oversized shirt swallowed her smaller frame. Five-foot-five. She had never been this height in her adult life. It felt strange. Foreign. And oddly right.

She padded downstairs barefoot, the shirt brushing the tops of her thighs. Julian was already in the kitchen, pouring coffee. He looked up when she walked in and froze, mug halfway to his mouth.

“Jesus,” he said softly. “You’re still… small.”

Lily smiled, a little shy, a little pleased. “Told you it worked.”

He set the mug down and crossed the room, hands gently framing her face as he looked her over. “How do you feel?”

“Fine. Better than fine, actually.” She rose up on her toes and kissed him. “A little hungry, maybe. And my clothes are all too big now, which is annoying. But otherwise… normal.”

Julian didn’t look convinced. He stepped back, studying her with that focused, analytical expression she knew so well. “You should have started growing back by now. The mice always bounced back within a few hours. You’re still five inches down.”

“Maybe it just takes longer in humans?” Lily said, pouring herself coffee. She kept her tone light, but her heart was already beating faster. She didn’t want to grow back. Not yet. But she couldn’t say that out loud. Not when Julian was looking at her like that — worried, protective, the careful scientist trying to solve a problem. Every cell in her body wanted him to examine her, anything to keep his attention.

He ran a hand through his hair. “I need to run some bloodwork. Check your hormone levels, see if there’s any lingering effect on your metabolism. You lost a lot of mass last night. That’s going to affect how long it takes your body to stabilize.”

Lily made a face, mock-offended. “Wow. Tell a girl she’s lost a lot of mass first thing in the morning. Very romantic.”

Julian blinked, then laughed, the sound surprised and warm. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I know,” she said, stepping closer and sliding her arms around his waist. “But if I have to wait several days at this size, at least I have an excuse to go clothes shopping. I’ve always wanted an excuse to buy smaller sizes.”

He smiled, but the worry didn’t leave his eyes. “Let me run the tests first. I want to make sure you’re okay before we do anything else.”

Lily nodded, but her mind was already racing. She wanted more. She wanted to feel that rush again — the warm flood of the serum, the dizzying sensation of the world growing around her, the way Julian had looked at her like she was something precious and fragile and his. She wanted to be even smaller. She wanted him to look at her the way he looked at his work — intense, focused, completely absorbed.

She just had to convince him.

Later that afternoon, after the bloodwork came back normal and Julian was still frowning at the results on his laptop, Lily curled up beside him on the couch in the living room. She was still in his T-shirt, legs tucked under her, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I want to do it again,” she said quietly.

Julian looked up from the screen. “Lily…”

“Just once more. A smaller dose this time. You can monitor me the whole way. Use the scanner, take all the data you want. We’ll learn more about how it works on humans. It’s basically science.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re serious.”

“I’ve never felt anything like last night,” she admitted, her voice soft. “Not just the shrinking. The way you looked at me. The way you touched me. I want that again. And if it helps your research at the same time… why not?”

Julian exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Lily. We still don’t know why you haven’t grown back yet. What if the second dose makes it worse?”

“Then we’ll know that too,” she said, sliding closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “Please. I trust you. And I want this.”

He was quiet for a long time. Then he nodded, once. “Okay. But only because I need the data we should have gotten last night. So only if we do it my way. Full monitoring. Scanner the entire time. And if anything feels off, we stop immediately.”

Lily smiled, warm and bright and secretly triumphant. “Deal.”

That evening, they went back down to the lab. Lily stood on the padded platform in the center of the room, wearing nothing but one of Julian’s old button-down shirts that now hung to her mid-thighs. The scanner rings hummed to life around her. Warm lights swept over her body in slow, deliberate passes while Julian watched from the console, his expression focused and intense.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, heart pounding. “Do it.”

He injected her with a smaller dose.

The warmth came faster this time. Stronger. Lily closed her eyes and let it take her, feeling her body compact in on itself with that same delicious, right sensation. When it stopped, she opened her eyes and looked up at Julian, way up. Another five inches. She was five-foot even now. Petite. Small. The shirt she was wearing brushed the tops of her knees.

Julian stared at her, something dark and hungry flickering across his face before he caught himself. “Jesus, Lily. You’re… you’re tiny.”

She smiled, slow and wicked, and let the shirt slip off her shoulders, pooling at her feet. Completely naked. Completely his.

“Come here,” she said, voice low and breathless.

He didn’t hesitate this time.

They ended up on the floor of the lab, Julian on his back and Lily straddling him, riding him with a desperate, hungry rhythm that had her coming twice before he finally followed her over the edge. It was even better than the night before, tighter, hotter, more intense. Every nerve in her body felt alive, hypersensitive, starving for more. When it was over, she collapsed against his chest, panting, glowing, already thinking about the next time.

Julian stroked her hair, his voice rough. “You okay?”

“Better than okay,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest. “That was… Julian, that was incredible. We have to do that again.”

He was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. “We’ll see. I need to analyze the data first. Make sure you’re stable.”

Lily smiled against his skin, but inside, her mind was already spinning. She didn’t want to wait. She wanted to be smaller. She wanted him to look at her the way he was looking at the scanner readouts right now, focused, intense, completely absorbed in her.

She just had to figure out how to make that happen.

Part 1: The Serum

Lily stood in the doorway of Julian’s basement lab, one hand resting on the frame, watching him work. She had to duck slightly to clear the low doorway, she hated that doorway because it reminded her how tall she was. When she met Julian she had been relieved that at least she wasn’t taller than him. Of course, he always said he enjoyed looking eye to eye with her. Sweet, but it didn’t really help.

Tonight she had worn the black dress with low pumps anyway, the one that hugged her hips and dipped low enough at the neckline to make him lose his train of thought when she leaned over his desk. Her dark hair was loose, falling in soft waves over her shoulders. She had spent longer than usual getting ready. Not because she needed to impress him — they had been engaged for eight months and living together for two years — but because she wanted to feel like someone worth looking at. Someone worth wanting.

“Julian,” she said softly.

He looked up, and the moment he saw her, his face changed. The focused, slightly distant expression melted into something warmer. “Hey, you.” He pushed his chair back and stood, crossing the room in three strides. His hands found her waist, pulling her against him. “You look beautiful. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” she said, tilting her face up for a kiss. “I just missed you. You’ve been down here for hours.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He kissed her forehead, then her mouth, lingering. “I think I finally got the dosing right on the new formula. The one for chronic nerve pain. If this works the way I think it will, it could actually help people.”

Lily smiled as she tilted her chin down to rest on his shoulder. That was Julian, always trying to fix something, to make something better. It was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him. He wasn’t flashy or loud. He was steady. Thoughtful. The kind of man who would stay up all night solving a problem if it meant someone else might hurt less.

She loved him. Julian took good care of her, and that was why she felt safe knowing he loved her too. But sometimes, in the dark, she felt jealous of that intense focus he had in the lab. It made her ache to think of him looking at her that way — like she was the only thing in the world worth his full attention. When they made love she would see it flash in his eyes, but she was greedy. She wanted it all the time.

“You must be feeling good, you’re wearing pumps,” Julian teased.

She stepped back just enough to look up at him, a playful glint in her dark eyes. “You know, if I were a few inches shorter, I could actually wear real heels sometimes."

Julian laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “I like you exactly the way you are.”

“I know you do,” she said, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But a girl can dream. Or maybe buy her man a pair of cowboy boots," with a bit of dry sarcasm, “ye, haw.”

He studied her for a moment, then glanced toward the cluttered workbench near the center of the lab. “Actually… that brings me back to the serum I was talking about. An experimental compound for chronic nerve pain. It works on the nervous system at a deeper level than anything we have now. Early trials are promising.”

Lily followed his gaze. Sitting in a small rack on the workbench was a glass vial filled with clear liquid that glowed with a faint amber light. It looked different from the usual mess of half-finished projects.

“What’s that?” she asked, nodding toward the vial.

Julian followed her eyes. “That’s it. We’ve been testing it on mice. It has some… unexpected side effects.”

Lily stepped closer, curious. “Like what?”

Julian hesitated, then picked up the vial, turning it slowly between his fingers. “It causes rapid, controlled shrinking. Temporary, as far as we can tell. The mice shrink just enough to measure for a few hours, then bounce back with no lasting effects. We’re still figuring out the exact mechanics, but it seems to affect cellular density and…”

“I’ve always wanted to be smaller,” Lily said, cutting him off. Her voice was quiet, but there was something bright and eager underneath it. “I’ve never liked my height. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be… normal. Just for a little while.”

Julian blinked. “You’re serious?”

She stepped closer, pressing her body against his, looking up at him with those dark eyes he loved so much. “It’s temporary, right? The mice shrink just enough to measure right, so for a person it would be just a few inches? I could try it. Just once. Just to see what it’s like. I’ve spent my whole life being tall. I want to know what it feels like to be… tiny. Even if it’s only for a few hours.” She had not intended to say the word tiny, maybe normal wasn’t enough, but it would be good enough for now.

He studied her for a long moment, clearly torn. “Lily, it’s still experimental. We don’t know how it would affect a human. And even if it works the way it does on mice, shrinking even a few inches… that’s not something to take lightly.”

“I know,” she said, sliding her hands up his chest. “But I trust you. And I want to know what it feels like. Just for a little while. Please?”

Julian looked down at her, his expression softening. He loved her. He wanted to give her things. And the way she was looking at him right now — hopeful, excited, a little flushed — made it hard to say no.

“You’re sure?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

He exhaled slowly, then nodded. “Alright. But we do this carefully. Small dose. We monitor you the whole time. And if anything feels wrong, we stop immediately.”

Lily’s heart was racing. She couldn’t explain why this felt so exciting — why the idea of shrinking, even just a few inches, was making her thighs press together under the black dress. She only knew that she wanted it. Badly.

Julian retrieved the vial and a small syringe from a locked cabinet. He measured out a tiny amount of the amber liquid, then looked at her one more time. “Last chance to change your mind.”

She shook her head. “Do it.”

He injected her.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a strange warmth spread through her chest, down her arms, into her legs. It wasn’t unpleasant. It felt like sinking into a warm bath. Her vision blurred at the edges. She reached for Julian’s arm to steady herself, and realized with a jolt that she had to reach up.

She was shrinking.

It happened slowly at first, then faster, her body compacting in on itself in a way that should have been terrifying but instead felt… right. When it stopped, she looked like she was a teenager playing dress up in her mother’s closet, the snug fabric now loose in all the wrong places, it felt like a tent. She looked up, it felt surprisingly good to look up at Julian, even better than she had expected. Julian staring down at her, his face a mixture of awe and desire.

She was five inches shorter. Five-foot-five. For the first time in her adult life, she was average height. Normal. The world felt different. The ceiling seemed higher. Julian seemed huge.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her voice slightly higher than before. She looked down at her hands, at her body, at the way the dress now hung loosely on her smaller frame. “It worked.”

Julian unconsciously crouched in front of her, bringing his face below with hers as he looked her over. (‘No, stand up Julian, I want to feel your eyes looking down at me,’ Lily begged in her mind.) But he didn’t notice her sudden distress, his eyes were wide behind his glasses. “Lily… you’re… you’re so much smaller.”

“You just like to see a girl with her clothes falling off,” Lily teased. But she could see it in his face — the way his gaze kept drifting over her, taking in every change, every new proportion. And she could feel it in her own body: a deep, liquid heat pooling between her legs. She was wet. Soaking. The shrinking had done something to her, awakened something primal and hungry.

She looked up at him, a small, secret smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Five-foot-five felt good. It felt normal. But deep down, in a place she wasn’t ready to name yet, she already knew it wasn’t enough. She wanted to go smaller. Much smaller. But she didn’t say that. Not yet.

Instead, she did the one thing that felt right in the moment, shrugged her shoulders and let her dress fall in a puddle at her feet, completely naked now, and looked up at him with dark, hungry eyes.

“Julian,” she said, her voice breathy. “You may end up making more money selling your serum as an aphrodisiac."

She didn’t wait for him to respond. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down into a kiss, desperate and messy. He made a surprised sound against her mouth, then kissed her back, his hands finding her waist — smaller now, easier to span with his fingers.

They didn’t make it upstairs.

He lifted her onto the edge of the workbench, shoving papers and tools aside with one arm. She fumbled with his belt, yanking his jeans down just far enough, and then he was inside her — thick and hot and perfect. She was tighter than she had ever been, her body clenching around him like it was trying to pull him deeper. Every thrust sent shockwaves through her. She came fast, embarrassingly fast, crying out and digging her nails into his shoulders as her pussy pulsed around him.

“Fuck, Lily, you’re never finished so…” he groaned, his rhythm faltering. “and, tight. What the fuck…”

She came again before he finished the sentence, her head thrown back, legs wrapped around his waist. And he followed her over the edge, burying his face in her neck and groaning her name as he spilled inside her.

For a long moment, they stayed like that — breathing hard, tangled together on the workbench. Lily’s body was still humming, still clenching around him in little aftershocks. She had never come that hard in her life. Never felt that alive.

Julian pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark and searching. “You okay?”

She smiled, slow and satisfied, and kissed him. “Better than okay. That was… Julian, that was the best sex we’ve had in months. Seriously, you’re going to be rich.”

“It is supposed to be pain medication, you know I’m not doing this for the money.” He laughed, breathless, and rested his forehead against hers. “But, yeah, it really was really good, you were really good. So I’ll accept the fringe benefits.”

They stayed like that for a while, catching their breath, kissing lazily. Lily could feel the serum still working in her system — not shrinking her further, but keeping her body hypersensitive, hungry. She wanted more. Already.

But for now, she was content to stay in his arms, smaller and warm and thoroughly fucked, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

She didn’t know yet that this was only the beginning.

That the hunger would only grow.

That five-foot-five would never be enough.

@ThatShySmol Welcome. As someone who has gone underground several times over the years, I have some sympathy for lurkers. I’m looking forward to seeing what you post and what you like.

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.

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.

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 3: Withdrawal

Henry worked through the night with the fierce, quiet focus she had always loved. Tiny Sarah stayed curled against the warm curve of his neck like the world’s most intimate secret, her cheek pressed to the steady thunder of his pulse. Every time his heartbeat jumped, when a line of code finally compiled, when he muttered a triumphant “got you”, a fresh shiver of arousal rolled through her miniature body. The scent of him surrounded her completely: coffee, faint soap, and that warm, masculine note that had always been home. She kept squirming, thighs slick inside the ruined costume, fighting the urge to grind herself against his skin like a desperate little thing.

By the time dawn light filtered through the narrow basement windows, he had it: a clean reversal protocol. A second scan with inverted neural fields. Simple. Elegant. Terrifyingly reversible.

He carried her to the platform with both hands, cradling her like fragile glass. “Are you sure you’re ready?” His voice was hoarse from lack of sleep, but gentle. The loving husband still very much present. “We can wait. Test it more. I don’t want to lose you, Sarah.”

She looked up at his exhausted, beautiful face, glasses slightly crooked, silver threads bright in the morning light, and felt a pang of love so sharp it hurt. “I’m ready, Henry. Bring me back.”

The rings spun. The warm lights swept over her tiny form. She felt her consciousness pour out of the miniature body like water returning to the sea, rushing, stretching, expanding. Then she gasped awake on the platform, full-sized again, legs shaky, the assassin costume damp with sweat and arousal clinging to her skin.

Henry caught her as she awkwardly tried to stand up, wrapping strong arms around her. “You’re back,” he whispered into her hair, voice thick with relief. “God, Sarah, I was so scared I’d lost you.”

She clung to him, burying her face in his chest, breathing him in. For a long moment it felt perfect, solid, safe, normal. Her body felt powerful again. The right size. They stayed like that for minutes, just holding each other while the lab equipment cooled down.

The rest of the day passed in a soft haze of tests, quiet cuddles, and careful touches. Henry kept brushing his fingers along her arm or waist as if reassuring himself she was real and full-sized. She let him, melting into every caress. They made love that afternoon on the old couch in the corner of the lab, slow and sweet, the way they almost always did. He covered her completely, moving inside her with familiar tenderness, kissing her throat and murmuring how much he loved her. Sarah came with his name on her lips, fingers tangled in his messy bun…

…but it felt strangely distant. Muted. Like her nerves had been tuned to an impossibly high frequency during those hours as his tiny toy and now everything was dulled. When he finished and held her close, stroking her back, she smiled against his shoulder and tried to ignore the quiet emptiness blooming inside her chest.

That night she lay awake beside him in their bed upstairs, staring at the ceiling while his slow, satisfied breathing filled the dark. Her skin felt too big. Too empty. She kept remembering the crushing, delicious pressure of his fingers around her torso. The hot, overwhelming swipe of his tongue between her breasts. The way she had shattered from almost nothing. Her clit throbbed at the memories, but when she slipped her hand between her legs to chase the feeling, the pleasure was flat. Unsatisfying. Like trying to satisfy a starving woman with a single grain of rice.

By morning the ache had become a constant, low-grade fever.

Henry kissed her forehead before leaving for the city, new sensors, better power regulators, every safety measure he could think of. “I’ll be back by dinner. Stay out of the lab, okay? We’re not risking that again until I’m sure it’s completely safe.” His eyes were warm, protective, full of the man she had married. The man who would always put her safety first.

Sarah nodded, smiling like the good wife she was. The second his car disappeared down the street, the withdrawal hit her like a drug crash.
She paced the house for over an hour. Tried editing footage. Failed. Her body felt heavy, clumsy, unheld. She kept pressing her thighs together in the middle of rooms, chasing ghosts of sensation. The memory of looking up at him. Of being small enough to be lifted, tasted, controlled, owned. Of watching her own full-sized body get fucked while she trembled on top of it.

Finally she stood at the top of the basement stairs, heart hammering so hard she felt dizzy. Shame burned her cheeks. This was insane. Reckless. She had a good marriage, a kind husband, a life that most people would envy.
“Just… once,” she whispered to the empty house. “To feel it again. Then I’ll wait for him like I promised.”

Her hands trembled as she descended. In the lab she stripped slowly, savoring the cool air on her full-sized skin one last time, peeling the costume off with deliberate care, folding it neatly on the console. Naked. Vulnerable. Exposed in every way that mattered. She stepped onto the platform anyway, nipples already tight, a flush spreading across her chest and down her belly.

The rings spun to life. The warm lights swept over her. That delicious, velvety tiredness rolled in like a lover’s embrace.

She smiled as her knees buckled.

When awareness returned, the world had opened up again, vast and bright and right. She was tiny, just a doll. Perfectly naked. Every nerve ending sang with hypersensitivity. Her nipples were stiff little peaks, and a single clear drop of arousal already glistened on her inner thigh. She stood and stared at her giant unconscious body next to her. She had kept in good shape all these years, and had a popular cosplay channel, but she never thought of herself as hot. Maybe it was just the shrinking, but from this angle her own nudity was intoxicating.

The moment was so intense she moaned out loud, knees giving out. She lay on her back on the padded platform, legs falling shamelessly open, and just breathed in the overwhelming rightness of it. Every inch of her felt alive. Her pussy felt swollen, empty, and starving.

Tentative at first, she slid one tiny hand between her legs. The first stroke over her slick folds made her cry out, high and sharp. Two strokes and her back arched hard. Three and she came with shocking suddenness, hips jerking, a tiny gush coating her fingers while she whimpered Henry’s name like a prayer.

She didn’t stop. She kept touching herself, slowly now, savoring, circling her hypersensitive clit, dipping inside, imagining his enormous fingers, his tongue, his cock. Another orgasm rolled through her, then another, until she was a trembling, glowing mess on the platform, chest heaving, thighs shiny with her own wetness.
Afterward she curled on her side against the hip of her sleeping giantess for warmth, glowing, terrified, and happier than she had been in years. The full-sized body lay unmoved, beautiful, powerful, and suddenly… irrelevant. This was where she belonged now. Small. Sensitive. Utterly his.

The sound of the garage door opening upstairs made her stomach flip with equal parts dread and dark, delicious anticipation.
Henry was home early.

Sarah sat up slowly, heart racing. She was still naked. Still dripping. Still tiny. She didn’t hide. Instead she stood tall on the platform, shoulders back, breasts flushed, chin lifted even as her voice would surely shake, and waited for his footsteps on the basement stairs.

When she heard them, a fresh rush of wetness slid down her leg.

“Henry…” she called, soft and trembling but clear. “I couldn’t wait.”

(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.”

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.

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.