My Life as a Little Husband

By Pril


1
Introduction

The other day I sent a very short message to this board following my wife’s instruction. After doing so and duly reporting it to her I've received further orders to write somewhat more extensively about myself which, of course, means also writing about her.
My name is Pril and my wife's is Onda. We are both 30 years of age and we've been married for 5 years. As you can imagine, there is a fundamental difference between us, namely, our respective sizes. I'm 12 inches tall, or 30 cm. if you prefer it that way, whereas Onda is 5'7", or 1.70 m. I used to be 6 feet tall, but that was what's starting to be long ago. When standing erect next to each other my height is approximately half way through between the floor and Onda's knee. I'm a sixth of what I was and, for me now, the whole world is six times bigger, many times heavier, and infinitely different from what it used to be.
It all started 3 years ago when one morning I woke up from a long and restless night to find myself in my present plight. I suppose I should tell you more about what had been going on before that moment, but my wife has told me to speak only about my new life, and what my wife tells me to do is -believe you me- exactly what I do.
Ever since that day I've been going through what we call my "Educational Process". I don't really know when this process is supposed to come to an end, and I've very well learnt not to ask any more about it, but from the minute the process started I've changed an awful lot. I've changed so much that anyone who knew me then would find it very difficult if not impossible to recognize me now. And by "me" I mean my personality, not only my size.
The first thing I must tell you about my "new me" is my complete, full, utter obedience to my wife. What she says is what I do; no matter what she says and no matter how I do it. This is something that sometimes presents itself as an impossibility, although she knows to an amazing degree what she can demand from me and what she can't, sometimes surprising me with my own capabilities. I remember once, long ago, I forgot to carry out one of her orders. When she came back home and saw the thing undone, she just took a plastic pail from the kitchen, filled it up with water and, without a word, grabbed me by my chest and proceeded to sink me into it. God only knows how long she must have kept me in there. She never took me up for a few seconds for me to catch breath, she never questioned me or shouted at me or made a fuss about it. She just held me tightly in there until I felt my whole little body was going to explode. I shook frantically, I tried to free myself from her mighty hand by hitting it, by trying and bite it, by kicking like mad into the dense water, but to absolutely no avail. Somewhere along my fight, ridiculous as it seems, I found a split of a second to understand that she was doing it because of my negligence and disobedience. I must have been half-dead by the time she pulled me out of the water. All I remember is that she was sitting on a small stool and that her legs were crossed. Do you understand what I'm talking about? My life was about to expire at the hands of a woman who could have decided whether to send me to the other world or not while her legs were crossed.

2
Beginning

The episode about the pail with water came rather late in the development of our new relationship as husband and wife. That's why she had been so calm and handled things so professionally through it. In the beginning, though, she was much rougher with me while "teaching" me a lesson.
The very first day I told you about, in which I found myself at my present size, I woke up in a cage. Of course I thought I was still dreaming or something, but little by little it started dawning upon me that I was awake all right and that something was definitely wrong. The cage I'm talking about -which I know so well now- was placed in the middle of our bedroom not far from the double bed on which Onda was still sleeping. I remember I didn't quite know what to make of it all and I decided to call Onda to wake her up just to make sure that at least some part of reality continued to be what it used to. Wake up she did and, after stretching a little, she sat on the bed and looked at me sleepily for a second or two. Without more ado, she got up, walked past me and the cage, and went to take a shower. As she walked past not even bothering to say a single word to me, I felt a huge wave of anger creeping up my stomach (as I always did when not having it my way) and started to shout at her all sort of insults, curses, infamies and so on, which I now have been strictly forbidden to use in speech, writing or even thinking. I could write an entire treatise on the psychological impact I went through during those first few moments, but I'll try to stick to the actual events here, so I make your reading more enjoyable.
When she came back from the bathroom, wrapped in her towel and dripping a bit, I was still throwing at her all sorts of names and phrases, known or unknown, shaking and banging the bars of my cage, hardly in control of anything any more. In spite of seeing her a bit on her guard, she managed to take the right attitude right from the beginning. She hardly said anything to me. She just slowly and methodically got dressed as she did every day, finished to tidy up a few things, and left the house for work. By then I was livid with rage, fear and confusion and it must have taken me a few hours to calm down. Once I did, I started to examine the cage I was trapped in. It was a sort of modified large birdcage, big enough for me to stand up or lie down at full stretch. At the back there was a long, flat opening that led outside. Of course it wasn't big enough for me to get through. Next to this opening, outside the cage, there were three containers proportional to my size. They had food, water, and sand, respectively. As the day wore on I used all three of them for their proper functions, the sand being for my bodily needs, of course.
Onda came back in the early evening. By then I had thought things over and decided to tackle the issue in a different way.
"Onda", I called when she came into the room.
"Yes?” she answered.
"Onda, what's going on? What's happening here?”
She looked at me from her colossal height, waited a few seconds and said,
"Pril, I was fed up with things going the way they were. You've made a habit of your excesses against me and other people and I've decided to take care of things in a different way".
The conversation continued in a civilized way for a few more minutes. I tried all my tricks of persuasion, first the good ones, then the bad ones. The more I insisted the more she showed herself intransigent with my arguments. Inevitably, I lost control again and went once more into one of my tantrums.
"Pril", she said a bit nervously, "the first thing I want you to know is that from now on I won't tolerate unacceptable behavior from you, and that you'll have to do what I tell you to".
This, at my size and all, made me explode with laughter.
"What?” I shouted in between my hysterical laugh, "me to do what you tell me?"
That did it. Without losing a minute Onda unlatched the birdcage and grabbed me round my body with her huge hand. It was the first time I consciously felt the power of her touch at my new size. She pulled me all the way up to a level with her eyes and, breathing heavily, asked,
"Are you laughing at me?" My heart was beating frantically and I felt the vertigo of the huge new world surrounding me. I heard her heavy breathing as she waited for an answer. I tried to say something else and minimize the importance she was giving the whole thing, but she only repeated her question pressing a bit more forcibly my chest with her grip.
"Are you laughing at me, yes or no?”
"No", I said quietly.
"Good boy", she said.
That was my first defeat at my wife's hands. The first of so many that were to come, and continue coming as I write this. She put me back in my cage, latched the door, and left the room.
Two things I remember of that moment; first my wonder at her new power, second... my huge erection.


3
The door is opened

After that first day I continued to live in my prison, and although I tried to convince Onda to let me out using my most diplomatic skills, she wouldn't hear of it. For her, life continued more or less under the same routine, at least on what referred to her out-of-the-house schedule. She'd get up early in the morning, take her shower, have her breakfast, take care of the food and water right next to my cage, and leave for work. For me, well for me everything was different. I had to spend the whole day doing absolutely nothing but staying behind bars, surrounded by this huge bedroom, pondering on what had happened to me (or what Onda had done to me). I was very bored and started to sleep more than necessary. I knew my disappearance from the outer world would go rather unnoticed since I had practically no friends, I hadn't been on speaking terms with most of my family for a long time, and I had been unemployed for over two months. Who would miss me? Who would pay attention to me not being out there any more? The greengrocer?
Once back home, Onda would walk into the bedroom, proceed to get undressed in her usual manner, have a look at me and the cage and go to the kitchen and the rest of the house to take care of things. Gradually, I started to get used to my new size, Onda's size, and the size of everything. I also started to lose hope and, little by little there was less and less mentioning of the issue in our conversations.
We did talk. After finishing her duties around the house and may be watching some TV in the living room, Onda would come into the room and casually chat about her day, people I knew and so on, very much like in the old days, although without fearing any of my aggressive remarks, that were so abundant until the new situation came along. Quite a few weeks went by that way.
One evening, well after my shrinking had been last mentioned, Onda came up to my cage, easily opened the door that had consumed so many of my futile attempts at forcing it open myself, sat on our bed right in front of me and told me in a teacher's tone, firm and assertive,
"Pril, come out".
A bit taken aback, I looked at her for a few seconds before risking a first step out of my new house and a few more closer to where she was. I stopped in front of her naked legs, which came down gracefully from under her nightgown. Her knees stood well over my head, at about twice my size.
"Pril", she said, "you've been a good boy lately by not talking aggressively, by behaving yourself and by not asking me any more questions about your size, how long, why, and so on. From the day I shrank you on, we've started an "Educational Process" aiming at making of you the nice boy we know you can be. If you continue in the right path, doing what you are told to, and not asking forbidden questions, you'll be able to earn your way back to normality. The decision is up to me and, since I know you and I know what I want, I can assure you it won't be an easy process".
She waited a few moments to make sure that I was taking in her words.
"Good", she said. "From tomorrow on the door of your cage will be left open, but you are not allowed to walk out" (‘Great’, I thought). Any attempt at getting out of there, let alone escape, will be severely punished. Is that clear?”
"Yes", I said hardly containing my joy.
"When I'm instructing you on what to do your answers should always finish with the words 'my queen'", she added.
"Excuse me?” I said with a funny smile. But when I saw her leaning forward toward me I quickly corrected myself in a serious way,
"Yes, my queen. Yes, my queen".
"Good boy", she said. "Now, back to your cage".
I spent the whole night planning my escape, dreaming of my escape, enjoying my escape, relishing my escape.
Oh, Pril, Pril, how foolish were you in those days.


4
First escape attempt

Next morning, after spending the whole night fantasizing about my escape, I waited impatiently for Onda to finish her home routine. Right after her last touches, she came down to my cage and said,
"Very well, Pril, today we'll see how good your progress is so far. You are to stay all day in your cage with the door open. Do not attempt to come out, let alone escape, for you won't like the consequences. Is that understood?”
"Yes", I said.
"Yes, what?” she demanded.
"Yes, my queen", I said meekly.
With this she proceeded to open the cage door, and left the room. I couldn't see the rest of the house from my position, but I had gotten used to guessing quite a few actions using my ears, so I paid close attention to the sound of her fading steps, the unlocking of the front door, and the relocking of it.
Silence.
‘Yes’, I thought.
I still decided to wait further 15 minutes to make absolutely sure that she wouldn't come back after forgetting something behind, or anything like that. After what seemed an eternal quarter of an hour, I took my very first step out and I stood there surprisingly insecure as to what to do next. But I mustered courage and started walking toward the bedroom door. The minute I crossed the line into the hall and turned right, I found my way blocked by what seemed to be a pair of marble columns. My blood pressure dropped to zero and a feeling of intense fear invaded my whole self. Do I need to explain that what I found in front of me were my wife's legs?
I slowly started to look up. I saw her shapely legs disappearing into a short skirt, I saw her hands -one of them holding her shoes- placed at either side of her hip, I saw her generous bust slightly uncomfortably fitting into her blouse, and I saw her beautiful face staring down at me with a pair of intent blue eyes.
"Onda I-"
My stupid attempt at a word was instantly interrupted by her snatching me off the floor up in the air and carrying me into the bedroom again, whose freedom I hadn't experienced even for a split of a second. Onda sat on the bed with both legs joined together and stretched the length of my naked body facing down right over her knees. I tried to open my mouth again but before I knew it her first blow came right down on my bottom with a whipping sound and extremely sharp pain. I felt tears jumping out of my eyes and heard myself uttering out a cry of despair. Without waiting for any reaction and without saying anything, a second blow came right away exactly on the same spot as the first one. My entire body arched in pain, a coat of sweat covered me completely, and I started to sob and shout for mercy. To no avail. Her slaps continued one after another until I felt my limbs going numb. I was still weakly trying to set myself free, but her second hand was holding me firmly on her knees and my wriggling and kicking must have seemed ridiculous.
I don't know how long she spanked me for. But I do remember how helpless and desperate I felt at my complete impotence against the tremendous power of my wife. Suddenly the beating stopped. Onda pushed me indifferently off her knees and I fell down to the floor with a heavy thump, spraining one of my ankles. For the first time she spoke.
"On your feet", she ordered.
With terrible pain, my body, sweaty, dirty and hardly holding balance, I managed to rise to my feet while shaking from bottom to top.
"Look at me", she said again.
Trying to contain the convulsive shaking of my knees, I slowly raised my eyes until they met hers, which were completely controlled.
"When I give you an order, what do you have to do?” she demanded.
"I have to obey, my queen", said I, my lips trembling too much to make my speech clear.
"I can't hear you very well, Pril", she said calmly.
"I have to obey you, my queen", I repeated a bit more clearly.
"Good boy", she added. "Now, kneel down and kiss both my feet, one after the other." With still uncertain movements I did as she said and got back to my feet.
"Pril, I told you yesterday that your cage door is to remain open and that you are not going to come out. Do you have any problems with that?"
"No, my queen".
"Good", she said. "Now go back in there and stay in like a good boy until you are further instructed."
"Yes, my queen".
And with this I turned back and started a slow and limping return to what had been my house for all these weeks, my hopes shuttered, my dreams gone. Onda casually put her shoes back on and left the room without further ado, as she had done a while earlier, in what seemed another era. Whether she actually left the house or stayed in preparing another trap I never knew. But, for the life of me, I wouldn’t have left that cage even if I had seen the bedroom going up in flames. And I innocently thought then that she had given me a hard spanking.
5
Molly

Hello again my dear friends, Onda has just had a look at what I've been sending and told me to forget the beginning a little bit and go tell you about Molly.
Well, well, well. Yes, believe it or not, there are a few people who know about me and see me more or less regularly as they come home to pay Onda a visit and so on. Onda told me to start with Molly, so with Molly will I start.
Molly is one of two of Onda's best friends. They met each other and became friends after I was my new size, so I've never known her any differently than she is now. She is 40 years old, a good deal shorter than Onda and of a petite appearance. She is very skinny and not too endowed with flesh, so to speak. She is also pretty plain, so there isn't really much to look at in her. For those who like hands and feet, though, it could be quite a different story. She is very proud of both pairs and so she should, for fate has given her lean, bony and beautiful extremities. More often than not she wears sandals of all sorts, sometimes even in winter, and I must say that her taste is impeccable. Her hands are crowned with 10 long, strong and extremely well kept nails, which she prefers to keep unpolished and doesn't miss an opportunity to show off or use in a most delicate way. She is also extremely skilled with her hands. In actual fact she is a seamstress, and the reason why Onda befriended her is because she was looking for someone to make clothes my size.
It must have been only after a year that I got my first decent clothing as opposed to rough pieces of material taken from anywhere. Molly, then, is in charge of my "wardrobe", but she has also helped with other devices around the apartment aiming at making the real world more accessible to me. So she is at home quite a lot. And I hate her. First of all, she is the stupidest woman on earth. Other than her specialized skills, she knows nothing about anything. Once all three of us watched together a movie on TV. Her comments after it would have certainly awarded her the "Oscar to the silliest comments ever made on a movie", if such a thing existed. And the same is applicable to any other field in which logic has to but remotely be used.
Second, and this is where the gist of the story lies, there is the mysterious question of her husband, Little B. This has been going on since the day I met her, and, to this very minute, I still don't know whether the guy exists or not. If he does, he has to be the only other real shrunken person I ever heard of. I wouldn't expect much truth from Molly, but my wife has always been unfathomable about it and never gave me an answer that would give away the veracity of what Molly tells us about him. If Little B. exists, he must be the unluckiest fellow on earth... and Molly the cruelest.
Apparently she reduced him to a size similar to mine more than 15 years ago, according to her, due to him cheating on her… once. Whereas Onda has a "Program of Reeducation" for me, and, as long as I obey everything is OK, Molly has never thought of such a thing for her little hubby, and her life is devoted to torturing the little devil in every possible way. If the man exists this is what life is like for him:
He is kept purposely underfed, in such a way that he has been on the brink of starvation ever since she took care of him. When he eats he has to go down on his knees, cross his hands behind his back, and lick off the floor whatever his dear wife throws down to him; it could be anything from an old piece of tomato to a chunk of food she's just spat on her plate. She drops a crumb of bread very seldom while she eats, enough to keep him begging at her feet at every meal, even though most of the time she won't give him a thing. He is not allowed to look at her face or any other part of her body unless she tells him to. The exception being her feet, which he is forced to look at whenever she is around. In actual fact, whenever they cross their way at home he has to stop doing whatever he is doing and follow her feet with his eyes wherever she goes until she disappears from his sight. For over 15 years the poor guy has been talking to, trying to reason with, and eventually begging for mercy to a pair of feet, or a set of 10 toes. She hardly ever touches him, and if she does it's only to punish him. He's also been tied to a long old piece of string round his waist about the total length of the house, to allow him to walk all around it but not an inch into the garden with the sun above.
Molly has only one way of physical punishment: her hands. Many times she has told us the way she enjoys grabbing him for no reason and starts digging her long nails all about his body. She's never hidden the fact that she has bruised him, made him bleed badly, and broken many a bone of his tiny self. She enjoys telling us about how she keeps him in a state of constant terror by asking impossible request, lying, and confusing him. She'd ask him how many chairs there are in the room, he'd count three and she'd go on to tell him he is lying. The poor fellow would risk any other number knowing from the beginning that he's started a lost battle. More nailing and rough, bloody scratching would follow until she'd get tired or bored of her game. She loves citing the punch line that if he weren't lying he'd look at her eyes.
The other day I had to endure another session with dear Molly visiting us at home, bringing the newest entertainment from her house. I had just served them coffee and requested permission from Onda to go back to the kitchen until needed again, when Molly asked me to stay to hear something really funny. I pleaded with my eyes to Onda, but we had had a bad day and she just said,
"Stay".
Molly had put her husband into a big glass flowerpot, covering it with some kind of thick grill to prevent him from coming out. She also ordered him not to pee or pooh for the next 3 days (yes, sir, 3 days!). The wretched man did his best for a day or day and a half on the brink of explosion. Of course at some point he couldn't hold it any longer and the flowerpot turned into a mess of yellows and stinking browns.
"I made him eat and drink all his disobedience, and you know what?” she said, "He came out from a flower pot that was cleaner than when he got in. Ha, ha, ha".
The dreadful picture of that evil story haunted me for days. I hope to God Little B. is a bad taste invention of Molly’s with the compliance of my wife. If not, I don't really understand how he is still alive.


6
The Ten Commandments

I'm terribly sorry to keep bothering you with my postings, but although Onda hasn't yet read my last delivery she did give me permission to tell you a bit about a fundamental portion of our day. I'm talking about "The Ten Commandments".
As I got more and more used to my new life, it became less necessary for Onda to recur to extreme forms of teaching in order to convey what everything was about. Not that from time to time she doesn't have to give me a lesson, but nowadays nothing is to be compared to what it used to be. However, the Ten Commandments are not to be forgotten or skipped one single day of the year, for they represent the essence of my fate and there is no possible repeating them enough. The commandments aren't just repeated as in a church, but thoughtfully considered individually and as a whole. The necessary physical submission that comes with them aims only at enhancing them and making them internal. Although at the beginning I used to fear them due to the pain implied, now I acknowledge their absolute effect by being dispensed the way they are. I also look forward to them throughout the day, since it represents a sweet intimate moment with the woman I live and would die for.
Much as they hurt me, Onda is usually in the most relaxed of moods, often only casually dressed and many times stroking herself softly. It could be on the sofa, the bed or even in the bathtub, the two of us naked, which I always am for this ceremony, anyway.
The recitations of the Commandments takes place one by one, pausing on each to discuss them in detail. The whole process takes between 10 and 15 minutes according to the case, and each commandment forces me into another difficult, rather hurting physical position. As an example I'll reproduce yesterday's ceremony, which took place in the living room, on the sofa.
I heard Onda's voice calling me from the living room and I immediately stopped doing what I was in the middle of, and ran all the way to where she was. She was wearing a simple cotton nightgown, which sexily revealed most of her legs, crossed in a beautifully casual position.
"Are you ready to recite your commandments, sweetheart?” she asked.
"I wouldn't like anything better than that in the world", I replied.
"Good baby", she smiled. "Come up here with mummy, sweetie".
"Yes, my queen", I said with tears of emotions in my eyes.
Within a second, I had taken off all my clothes, kissed long and sweetly both her feet, and climbed up the sofa sitting comfortably on her lap looking at my beautiful Goddess. Onda proceeded to surround my body with her left hand, sticking thus both my arms to my sides making me immobile. Her right hand passed four fingers behind my back but her thumb stretched up in front pulling my chin back till my neck disappeared under my bent head. My mouth flew open and I felt a firm, steady and solid pain all the way down my spine. Onda, though, kept smiling at me with her sweet face and started to casually wave a hanging leg a little. After a few seconds in which I sort of got used to the pain, Onda asked a bit more seriously,
"OK, sweetie. What's the first commandment?”
My voice would come out a bit funny under the strain, but I knew how to make myself clear, anyway. "The first commandment, my queen, is Obedience".
"Good boy, precious boy", said Onda encouragingly. And, tightening her thumb under my chin a little bit more, she asked,
"And what does that mean?”
"It means, my queen, that I have to obey you blindly, whether I know or understand or not what you are telling me to do, whether I like it or not, whether it is possible or impossible. There is no questioning to your orders, my queen. What you tell me to do is what I'll do, and I'd consider it an honor to die for you if you demanded it from me".
"Oh, darling, that's so sweet of you", Onda said, "I see you know your first Commandment very well. By the way, are my hands hurting you?”
"Not at all, my queen, a caress from the gods wouldn’t be so pleasurable".
"Oh, you are something Prilly", she finished cheerfully. Very gradually she eased the pressure under my chin until my head came back to normal position. Commandment number one had been successfully discussed and understood.
For the second Commandment Onda stretched my legs on her lap and bent my torso forward with one of her hands until my head nearly touched my knees. This, together with the third Commandment, is the only position in which our eyes don't meet. The pain here concentrates at the bottom of my back and at the back of my legs.
"What's the second Commandment, puppy?" she asked.
"The second Command, my queen, is Respect", I replied.
"Well done, sweetie. What does that mean?"
A short discussion followed, very much in the way of the one after the first Commandment. The third Commandment is tough. Onda wrapped my legs with her left hand and my upper body and arms with her right, and proceeded to bend my body outwardly arching it as when you are trying to break a twig using both your hands. This Commandment is Loyalty, and it went very much the same as the previous two. For Commandments four and five she twisted first one of my arms and then the other behind my back. They are, respectively: Truth and Honesty. My left arm was particularly sensitive, since the previous day I had made a transgression regarding Honesty and Onda, obviously, had made a specially longer and more intense discussion about it. This time around, when she twisted my left arm my face contracted into a restrained grimace.
"What's the matter, Prilly?" Onda asked. "Are you still sensitive about yesterday, darling?"
"Yes, my queen" said I biting my lips.
"Do you think you've given it enough thought during the day and learnt your lesson well?"
"Yes, my queen, I do"
"Good boy". And she released it rather sharply.
The next three Commandments, numbers six, seven and eight are more on the practical side. They refer to Efficiency, Language and Appearance. Of course I have to be efficient in everything I do, most particularly in whatever I'm told to do. I am only to speak good language, clear and polite; dirty words, as I've already told you, are out of the question, even in thought. My appearance has to be perfectly suited to every moment, properly dressed throughout the day with clean and presentable clothes, and completely naked at the time of instruction, as was the case right now. The positions to the above mentioned Commandments consist of Onda bending first one leg and then the other backwards, with ankle, knee and hip joint stretched to the fullest. For number eight she holds my body with one hand while stretching both my arms backwards, which makes my chest protrude forward.
This was being a good session so far. Onda was in a very good mood. She pinched my cheeks a little, brushed my sweaty hair back with her fingers and allowed me to kiss them, too.
For Commandment number nine she herself changed position, uncrossing her legs and gently stretching them along the sofa. In the process her nightgown opened a bit round the neckline, revealing more of her generous, smooth, velvety bust, which made my instruction ever so pleasurable.
"Enjoying it, puppy?" she asked.
Commandment number nine is Sex. Sex is of the utmost importance in our relationship. (Is it not, my dear friends?). Onda and I have an awful lot of sex. The best sex there is, the best sex you could dream of. One day I'll tell you how she wisely guided me to it a long time after she had shrunken me, and how we do it, if she allows me to. You should know I live in constant erection and the outlet of my needs is of vital importance. Since masturbation is strictly prohibited, I am forced to pay extra attention to anything I do and the way I follow orders, not only to avoid punishment but also to earn my way to my queen, with the unknown pleasures of her imagination. The position for the sex Commandment consist of Onda stretching my legs aside with both her hands, a bit like ballerinas when landing on the floor with their legs forming a straight line from toe to toe. This is also a good preparation for the last position of the last Commandment, which isn't really a Commandment but a confession.
Commandment ten, which is a confession of my most recent sin, is usually the longest we dwell on because we have to discuss the situation according to what happened and the seriousness of it. The position is very suited to a confession. Onda stretches both my arms open, like in the cross, but the nailing of the sinner is quite original: she slowly penetrates my anus with her little finger, longish nail and all. This takes a few seconds to be performed and is done without the help of any creams. The process isn't going to be painful unless the gravity of my sin so demands it.
The previous night I had forgotten a dirty saucer on the coffee table in the living room, which had been left unclean and uncollected through the night.
"Why did that happen, poppet?” Onda asked, turning her finger a little around and making me feel a bit of pain.
"It happened, my queen, because I didn't pay enough attention, because I was a bad boy and forgot to perform my duties to perfection, which is the only way to make justice to you.” I said in a serious way.
Onda bent her pinky forward and I could feel her nail at the back of my stomach, hurting me and creating a very uncomfortable sensation.
"And what do you think your punishment should be for such forgetfulness?” she asked twisting her finger even more.
"Maybe, my queen, washing up every saucer there is in the kitchen ten times over until they shine like a mirror?” I suggested trying to move my body aside a little to ease the pain.
"That's a brilliant idea, puppy. And because of that you'll wash up every saucer, plate, soup plate, teapot, and cup ten times over. Do you think that's fair, darling?” she asked.
"It's most fair, my queen", I quietly replied.
"Good baby", she finished.
By now, the state of my erection was at its highest. With this, satisfied, she removed her finger from my behind, allowed me to kiss a few of them and ordered me to finish the ceremony properly. All these instructing sessions start and finish with me kneeling down on the floor and kissing either her feet or shoes if they are next to me. If not, I have to stay on my knees until her feet come down.
I went down to the floor, but her legs were still on the sofa, so I patiently waited for her to bring them down, which happened after a few long minutes.
"Thank you, my queen for a most enjoyable lesson", I said humbly.
"Now go to your duties", was her reply. And off I went to wash up dishes.
This, my friends, gives you an idea of what the Ten Commandments are and feel like. Of course I don't know when this form of education will stop, but I'm absolutely certain it must be necessary right now.


7
Second escape attempt

Now I should continue with the story of the beginning of things, where I left off in chapter four.
Onda's first spanking and the physical pain and taste of defeat left in me, kept me in my cage for long weeks to come. During the first days I had serious trouble standing and even lying down, which I couldn't perform without waves of pain all over my little body, especially my behind. Onda, on the contrary, got out of our confrontation with much more confidence and control than before. She showed herself more and more assertive handling our relationship, and started to adopt a tone of command when speaking to me. Although for the first few days there wasn't much conversation, things started to come back to normal very much the same they had been before the cage door had been opened. Every now and then I would think of that open door, me inside not risking stepping out lest she'd prepared another trap or God knows what. After some time I started to pay special attention to various noises around the house when Onda wasn't in, and also several phone conversations she had with friends and family. I came to the conclusion that she was leaving for work all right and wouldn't possibly wait for me in the hall every day of her life. That's how my instinctive thirst for freedom started to make my brain work again in that direction, thus planting the seed of the disastrous end to come.
One day, after much pondering and planning and praying for courage, I decided time had come for me to try again. I'd have to set out right after she'd leave. My aim would be the two balconies in the apartment, either the small one in the kitchen or the big one outside the living room. I knew there would be 3 floors to climb down before touching ground level, but I'd use strings, ropes and ribbons we used to keep in the storage room. I'd only have to be quick and lucky.
‘M’ morning finally arrived. Onda left for work as usual and I waited a few minutes before coming out. Some last minute fear, though, prevented me from starting right away -what if I failed?- and I lost some valuable hour trying to find my courage again. Finally, after so many weeks, I ventured my first step out. Like the first time, I walked toward the bedroom door and stood there for a few seconds before popping my head out into the hall. This time no marble columns waited for me. The way was clear.
You'll probably remember that since the day of my shrinking all I had seen of the world in its new dimension was the bedroom around my cage. I had gotten used to that sight all right. But the rest of the house, man, was it different! The main hall, leading from the entrance door and the living room to the 3 other rooms, kitchen and toilets, seemed a mile long. The dimension of things was very confusing and quite intimidating. Everything was in its usual place, though. Before continuing I had a good look around the hall and my eyes eventually rested on the upper wall, near the ceiling. There it was. A little video camera, perched on a metal arm was pointing down at the bedroom door I had just come out from. A small red light indicated the camera was working. This really didn't take me aback since I was expecting some kind of surveillance system. I had decided that if it were a camera Onda would only be able to watch my escape after she returned home, once I had been long gone. As a good-bye gift I gave the camera a finger.
I went into the kitchen. As expected, the door leading to the small balcony was closed. I managed to drag a little (well, huge) stool against it, climbed on the thing and jumped up, catching the door handle with both my hands. The door was locked, and the key wasn't there. The two windows aside, a bit to my surprise, were covered with a wire mesh that wasn't there before. I had to discard that possibility.
My next goal was the living room, the largest room in the house, with a long balcony running all along the front. When walking past the camera again though, a paralyzing thought crossed my mind, making me stop dead, a surge of cold sweat covering my entire body. Looking up at the camera again, I confirmed my worst fears: it wasn't a video camera; it was one of those close-circuit security things you see in shops and busses. There was a monitor somewhere. Was I being watched? If I knew Onda, I was. The whole idea of how much time I had left changed in a second. I had to be very quick. I ran to the living room and had a good look at the glass doors leading to the balcony. The huge sliding panes, framed in aluminum and running the length of the balcony were closed and locked with an impossibly tall lever. Right above the panes, though, there were two other sliding, narrow, glass doors, mainly for ventilation purposes, but big enough to allow my body through. One of them was open. My way up there would be through the curtain, rather drawn aside but leading right to the window near the frame. Of course that was only the way up. For the way down I was going to need the strings I have mentioned before.
I ran to the smallest room in the apartment, used for storage, and managed my way up the old desk on top of which there was the little cardboard box containing such ribbons, strings, and so on. I knocked it down easily, too easily. It was empty. There was something in there, though, and it made my heart stop. A little piece of paper said: ‘Trying to run away, darling?’
Oh, my God!
I stumbled down the desk and ran back to the living room. I was starting to feel confused and very scared. The one thing to do was climb up that curtain and run for my life. After a few minutes of clumsy curtain cliff hanging, I reached the top and stood on the upper frame catching breath. From my vantage point I could see the low houses across the road. As I was trying to work out my next step when I saw the beginning of the end: Onda's car slowly arrived down the road. She parked it and quietly came out. I'll never forget how beautiful she looked, tall and erect in her smart blue executive suit, black stockings and medium high heels, her light brown hair falling gracefully down her shoulders. I'll never forget my fear, either. Why should she be back in the middle of the morning if not for me? The terror of what that meant quickly replaced the pleasure of her sight. There was only one dignified thing for me to do now: fight.
I climbed down the curtain and stood at the other end of the hall, my heart thumping with fear. My plan was to wait for her to come in and run as heavily as I could against her legs, trying to hit her or something, at least gaining the upper hand in such an unfair contest.
I stood there, my whole body heaving with audible breath, waiting for her to come in. I heard the lock; there she was. As she turned back to close the door behind her I started my mad race against Goliath, shouting at the top of my voice, like an old warrior. The image must have been quite amusing for her. Onda had plenty of time to turn round again and wait a little for me to get closer. She simply dropped her handbag in front of me, making me stumble badly and roll all the way to the tip of her shoes.
You should know, my dear friends, that in all these 3 long years Onda owns me, and the numberless times she's spanked and punished me in every possible way, I've never once, not even once, managed to hit back in any effective way. She can do whatever she wants with me and there is nothing I can do against her incredible power.
I quickly got up to my feet and started running in the opposite direction. Onda advanced a few steps and I felt once more the mighty grip of her hand around my body. Still without uttering a word, she took me back to the bedroom, sat on the bed, proceeded to stretch me on her legs like the first time, and grabbed a house slipper lying down on the floor next to the bed.
The following spanking could have won a competition. She mercilessly slapped every bit of flesh on my little body. I cried, I shouted, screamed, wept, kicked, shook, twisted, shrieked, trying in vain to set myself free, to avoid the next blow. Nothing helped. She continued hitting, starting to lose a bit of control herself. The pain was excruciating. I wished I'd be dead. My body went flex. I peed and pooed on myself, I vomited; blood was coming out of everywhere. I begged, I pleaded, I supplicated, I screamed for mercy.
"Are you going to disobey me again?” she shouted at me.
"Noooooo", I cried.
She repeated the question a million times and a million times I answered it at the top of my lungs.
"Are you going to disobey me again?!"
"Noooooooooooooo!!!!! Please, my queen. Noooooooooo!!!!!!!
She stopped for a few seconds, quite agitated herself, her pretty face transfigured into a lioness's. She roughly pulled my hair back with her long-nailed fingers and, bringing her face closer to mine said in a clear-cut tone,
"And thank you very much for giving me your finger, darling, but I'm afraid you'll have to take it back."
And with this she stretched out her middle finger, long nail and all, and shoved it down my open mouth.
I swear to God, I've never felt anything like that since the day I was born. I don't know where the end of her finger got down to, but I felt it against the end of my butt. My arms spread out violently, my eyes shot wide open in shock, and I realized I couldn't breathe. Still holding me like that Onda placed me back on her legs and resumed the barrage where she had just stopped. My brain was about to blow up. Just when I thought I was saying good-bye to this world, Onda sharply removed her finger. My lip joints were torn open and bleeding badly. Half of that blood went down into my lungs as I desperately tried to catch up breath. I was a mess. I was a mess. Before I even had time to think I heard Onda say,
"And now, darling, we'll make sure you never try to run away again". And snatching a pair of scissors out of the drawer in the bedside table, she opened them over and under my legs and,
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!” I screamed, terrified". "No, please, Onda, no, no, no, my queen. I'll be good, I'll obey, I'll do whatever you tell me to, I'll never try to escape again, I'll be your slave if you want, I'll never disobey again, I swear, I swear to God, Onda, please, please Onda, don't, don't. I'm begging you, my queen. Don't cut my legs, please don't, please, please."
"Shut up, you piece of s..!” she shouted. And, lifting the arm in which she held me, threw me forcibly against my cage.
I found myself on the floor, still begging, still crying.
"Come here you son of a b..!" she shouted again.
I dragged myself on the floor up to her shoes.
"On your feet, piece of c.."
I did as well as I could.
"I want you to kiss my feet, shout loudly that you'll never disobey me again and go run around your cage. Do you understand?" she still shouted.
"Yes, my queen!” I cried.
And with this I proceeded to do what she had told me. I kissed her feet, shouted I'd never disobey again, and made a loop round my cage and back to her feet.
"Do it again, son of a..", she screamed.
And I did, stumbling against my cage, against some furniture, against Onda's own legs, hardly knowing what I was doing any more.
"Do it a thousand times, you bastard, a thousand times!" she finished.
I started to run around God only knows what. I guess I must have passed out after a few rounds, for I don't have any further recollections of that judgment day.

8
Resignation

For many, many days to come I lived in a blur of pain and anguish. My whole body was sore, I could hardly move. I don't think there were any broken bones, but most of my skin was badly swollen and covered with bruises. The worst part was my mouth, where my lip-joints had been torn open by Onda's finger. I found it almost impossible to eat, even drink. My only comfort was sleeping. I slept an awful lot, although most of it was constantly interrupted by strange nightmares in which Onda was breaking me physically and psychologically. I would also jump from my sleep in fear every time I'd hear the door lock in the morning, evening or any other time of the day.
It was also around this time that I started to dream of the angel. The angel was a perfect giantess, kind and beautiful, that came down from heaven to heal my wounds. She'd sit next to me, take me gently in her mighty hands, and apply balms and ointments to my damaged body, while whispering words of comfort and encouragement. These dreams would become of capital importance (and form the beginning of my suspicion) the day I met Dr. Elde.
Very, very slowly, I started to recover. My skin and mouth got better and I found it easier to eat and drink. I also got up to my feet and started to do a little gym in the small space of my cage. The supply of food and water never dwindled. Now there was also a little container with some kind of salve Onda had ordered me to rub into my wounds. Aside from her uncontrolled anger of the beginning, Onda had come back to normal, although ever more assertive and in charge than before. Her power had grown proportionally to my weakness.
The cage door, of course, remained open, although I started to completely forget about it. There was no possible escape and that was it. I understood more and more that the only sensible thing for me to do was to stay there and obey every one of Onda's commands, hoping to gain her trust back and, maybe, be let out at some point.
One day, after quite a few weeks and almost completely recovered, I felt an urgent need to make up with Onda. I don't know how, but something was telling me that I had to talk to her and apologize for my past behavior. This was quite a new feeling in me, but I had to do it.
"Onda", I said quietly when she got back home.
"Yes?” she answered cautiously.
"I'd like to talk to you about something".
"You'd better think it over if it's to do with your cage, Pril", she replied with a warning tone.
"It's not about the cage, Onda", I added. She waited.
"Onda, I'd like to apologize for my behavior during the past many months, and also for everything I did to you when I was my normal size. I understand and accept everything you did to me, including the punishments when I tried to escape. I don't intend my words to fool you. I just need to get them out of my chest. I really mean what I say."
Onda, standing next to the cage and looming over me, took a few seconds to think about what I'd just said. Then she asked,
"Do you know how long you've been in that cage now?"
I said I didn't.
"Next month, a year".
‘A year!’ I thought.
"In three weeks", she added, "when the year is over, we'll have a little chat about our next step for your reeducation. In the meantime just stay there and be a good boy. And, till then that's all I want to hear from you about your situation, good or bad. Is that clear?" “
“Yes, my queen”, I finished quietly.
It had been the first time in my life I had apologized to Onda about anything. It seemed to have left her pretty unmoved.


9
I’m allowed out

Three weeks later, exactly a year after my shrinking, Onda came into the bedroom, sat on a chair and ordered,
"Pril, come out of your cage and up to me".
I did as she said, my feet a bit uncertain on the ground. She was still wearing her smart office outfit, but had removed her shoes and replaced them with her slippers (the same ones she had nearly destroyed my body with). As I was coming up to her she crossed her legs into a professional position. My wife's legs have always been very attractive, shapely more than thin. Her body language betrayed control more than comfort. She had never exposed them to me in such an obvious way since my shrinking. I couldn't help thinking how terrifyingly beautiful they were. I also felt quite intimidated by their size and proximity to me. She looked so incredibly in control.
"Pril", she said, "as I told you the other day, from now on we are starting a new stage in your education." (‘We?’ I thought). "For the next few minutes I want you to listen carefully to what I say and not to interrupt. If you have any questions you'll be allowed to ask them in the end. Is that clear?"
"Yes", I replied.
"I'm sorry?” she demanded.
"Yes, my queen". I corrected myself.
"Whenever I instruct you, as I'm doing now, you are to kiss both my feet, kneel down with your hands behind your back, and look right into my eyes. Do it!"
I did as she had ordered. From my kneeling position she looked absolutely imposing. Her blue eyes had the glimmer of victory in them.
"Good", she said. "From now on, you'll be allowed out of your cage while I'm at home. In actual fact, when I'm here you are not to be in your cage at all unless I send you back to it. On the other hand, the minute I leave the house, you'll get back to your cage and spend there whatever amount of time I'm not here." She paused for a few seconds. "At least in the beginning, whenever you're out of your cage you'll have to be right next to me, always on the floor, either standing, sitting, kneeling or lying down, according to my orders. You're not to leave my side unless I tell you to, and you're to accompany me wherever I move within the apartment. To make things easier for you and me, I'll keep you leashed to me with this".
And, with that, she unrolled a piece of long, thin, satin ribbon, at the end of which there was a golden ring attached. The thing rolled down her crossed leg and I found it lying next to me.
"Put it down your head, around your neck", she commanded.
I tried to do it but the ring kept getting stuck in my ears and nose, making the way to my neck impossible.
"Stop", Onda said dryly. She leaned down, stretched forward two strong fingers forming a V around my head and, before I knew it, she gave the ring a quick push down to my neck. I felt my nose and ears go red and hot, but no damage had been done. God, her strength was absolutely fabulous. Taking the ribbon with her fingers, Onda leaned back again and pulled it a little, making my body tilt forward.
"That's good", she said. "Any questions?"
"Yes, my queen", said I. "How long am I supposed to go through this stage?"
Together with my last word, Onda got suddenly up to her feet, her huge body towering over me like a mountain. The ring caught my chin and raised my little body off the floor up into the air. I desperately grabbed the ring trying in vain to do something about it, while hanging like a pendulum and kicking in the air.
"Look at me!” she ordered. Still hanging and choking, I did.
"That is a question I don't want to hear any more, at any stage, under any circumstances. Is that understood or do I need to bring my slipper into the picture to explain things to your butt?"
"No, no, my queen", I answered with gruff voice in despair. "It's understood, my queen, perfectly understood".
"Good boy", she said, and abruptly eased the ribbon, making me fall clumsily to the floor.
"Now to your position. The lesson is over. Kiss my feet, thank me and stand next to my shoes." I did as she said and stood there, next to her huge feet, waiting for whatever might come next.


10
A ring around my neck

After a few minutes Onda rose from her chair and, standing very close to me, pulled the ribbon a little and said,
"Look at me".
Although I had been my new size for a whole year I had always looked and talked to Onda from my cage, and she had always kept certain distance when interacting with me. Once or twice I had seen her more closely together, especially during my first escape attempt, when I mistook her legs for a pair of white columns. But, all in all, I was pretty used to some space between us. That's why to look at her now, while standing right next to her legs, was so scary. She was simply huge. Think of the difference between looking at an elephant from the safety of a far fence in the zoo to suddenly finding yourself between the animal's legs. Once I met her eyes she said,
"We are now starting our closer partnership. Always be careful not to stand or walk right in front of me, for I could easily squash you. Just watch your step and make sure you aren't in my way."
And with this she started to walk. Although she walked rather slowly, I had to kind of trot in order to keep pace. The ring around my neck constantly corrected any difference in rhythm between us through Onda's dexterous pulling of the ribbon. First we went to the kitchen. It was evening and Onda hadn't eaten yet. She took a few things from the fridge and put them on the kitchen counter to prepare something. I stood next to her legs looking up at her immensity as she cut and chopped vegetables I couldn't see. She put everything on a small tray and carried it to the table. I ran at her side. Onda sat on a stool, crossed her huge legs under the table and brought down in her hand a coaster containing some food for me.
"Sit down on the ground next to my feet and eat all this,” she ordered. "When you finish off stand up on your feet again and wait." she added.
I took the coaster (which was like a very big plate for me) from her hand, walked a few steps up to where her feet were, and sat down as she had said. I also stood again once I finished. I hadn't really been that hungry but I finished off my food all right as she said. I was going to be a good boy. I don't think she could see whether I was sitting or standing, but she sure could guess by the movement of the ribbon. After a quarter of an hour she said.
"Pril, come out from under the table with your coaster and give it back to me."
I did as she said. It was amazing to see her easily taking with two fingers a little coaster that was like a round tray for me. She put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and switched off the kitchen light. Our next stop was the living room. I followed her closely as she walked down the corridor into the room and up to the sofa. She sat on it, crossed her legs and, pointing to the TV remote control on the low coffee table, said,
"Bring it to me".
These simple words would form the first chore Onda ever ordered me to do. The first of so many to come to this very day.
I grabbed the thing with both my hands and passed it to her.
"Sit down", Onda commanded.
And with this she clicked the TV on and started to surf the channels. I hadn't watched a second of TV (or, for that matter, hadn't done anything at all but wait and suffer) for a whole year; so I could have enjoyed just about anything. Onda stayed a few seconds on each channel before going on to the next one. Jerry Springer was on, too. Neither of us was a big fan of that show, although once I had forced Onda to watch an episode in which they talked about battered women, just to show her that she wasn't the only one. Like a joke from destiny, the issue tonight was something like "He married her because she was big, but left her for an even bigger one". And you could see these two huge fat women wrestling and insulting each other over this scrawny little eyeglassed fellow who was trying to separate them, all three of them rolling on the stage like monkeys. I looked up at Onda and she glanced back at me. Did I see the faintest shadow of a smile on her face?
Eventually she found some uninteresting, half-started movie, which was the only entertaining thing going on at that hour of the night. In spite of the renewed pleasure of watching TV, the boring movie plus the fact that I was at last out of my cage, made my mind work in a different direction. I started looking around from my very low, sitting position, still surprised at the size of everything. Much as I tried to look for variety, it was Onda's feet and legs that eventually became the focus of my interest. I was so close to them and they looked so incredibly beautiful! How come I had never noticed in the past how attractive they were when looked at from the ground? How come I had always understood sexual arousement by trying to dominate my women? My helplessness at my wife's size, my fear of her strength, the stupid ring around my neck, and the ribbon leading right into her powerful hand. What was happening to me? I felt so horny!
I continued to stare at those feet, one of them comfortably hanging as her legs were crossed. God, it was so beautiful! Suddenly, all that year of suffering and restriction in my cage seemed to be a necessary step for me to understand what I myself was all about. Was Onda guiding me to my true self, to being a little foot adorer expecting his mistress's orders? I started to feel a kind of communion with Onda. I was wrapped in a shroud of love I had never felt before. And I had to show it to her; to express, somehow, my new feelings.
Following an urgent impulse, I rose to my feet and gave a step or two toward her towering legs in order to kiss them. But before I knew it, I felt the ring catching my throat and my whole body fly high into the air.
"Just what do you think you are doing!" came her booming voice.
She had risen to her feet and pulled up the ribbon, with me at the end of it. I tried to catch the ring with my hands while my body oscillated from side to side across Onda's huge breast. I also fought to find some firm ground under my feet, kicking in the air, my breathing blocked. Onda frowned at me while watching and said,
"Didn't I tell you to sit down on the floor and not move? Who on earth gave you permission to stand up?" And she added, "Let me explain it to you this way".
And with this she sat down again, put me down on the coffee table, grabbed one of my naked feet with her middle finger behind my heel and her thumb in front of my big toe, and pressed them together with the grip of a vise. My foot arched in pain and my body fell on its back trying to wriggle itself out of that position. Onda immediately caught my other foot with her other hand keeping both my feet thus pressed. She eased the grip somewhat and ordered,
"Look at me".
Still with my feet trapped in her hands I managed to sit on my butt and look at her eyes.
"Onda, I was just tr"
She tightened her grip. I felt the pain creeping up my legs.
"Yes, darling, I'm listening" she said with an indifferent voice.
I tried to speak again but she squeezed my feet even more.
"Please", I whined.
"Listen to me, Pril" she commanded. "When I give you an order I expect full obedience. I told you to sit down on the floor and that's exactly what you are to do. I don't care if you have an itch, if your legs go to sleep or if your little erection is putting funny ideas into your head (how did she know?). There is only one thing for you to do. I've said it before and I'll repeat it now: obey! And that's all I want to see. Is that understood?"
"Yes, my queen", I managed to say.
Onda released my feet, which I started rubbing with my hands. My puny little naked body must have been a pretty amusing sight for her. I realized she was looking at me as I struggled to stand up again. Very slowly she brought her hand closer to my face, her long nailed fingers stretched forward. She caught my chin between her thumb and index fingernails and, pulling my entire body up, her eyes shining with triumph, she said,
"You are mine, Pril. You're mine in body, soul and mind. You're so mine you don't have an idea".
My wife looked with some contempt at my fully erected penis and she let my chin go. Then she pulled up the ribbon and lifted me in the air and down to the floor, next to her feet.
"Now lie down on the ground and don't move till I tell you,” she ordered.
And, believe me, I did as she said.


11
Dr. Elde

I guess three years as a shrunken husband aren't easy to sum up in a few pages. Onda has been reading what I've written so far and told me to continue to introduce you to some of the other people who form my limited world.
I have already told you about Molly and her husband, fictitious or not. Onda's mother, Miss Emma, should probably come next, but Onda says it's about time to mention Dr. Elde, who, as you'll see is by far the central figure of us all.
I met Dr. Elde (will I ever know her first name?) after meeting Molly, Onda's mom and Saskya, well after my basic training had been completed. Dr. Elde (pronounced as in ‘elder’) is a medical doctor, more specifically a psychiatrist. She is the shrink my wife started seeing about six months before I was shrunken. Funny as the pun may sound, from the very beginning something has been telling me that both events are somehow interrelated. This is only a hunch, albeit an important one, but it's been formed by little hints and eavesdropping, which is inevitable when you live with someone under the same roof.
There is only one word to describe Dr. Elde: perfection.
Have you ever seen Michelangelo's David, with its physical beauty and perfection of shape? Have you ever stood in front of a Canaleto painting to admire its architectural structure where every line converges into an exaltation of symmetry? Have you ever opened your ears and let a fugue by Bach invade the secrets of your soul by its mathematical music? Have you ever lost yourself in a Shakespeare's sonnet with its poetry, verse, and idea? Have you ever witnessed the sun rise from the sea or sink into the mountains? If you have, if you've gone through the bliss of these unforgettable experiences, you'll begin to have an idea of what I felt the day I met Dr. Elde, which is what I still feel today, more than a year after.
She is 50 years old and very, very tall. Most men would have to look up at her. Yet the proportions in her body make her look as the daintiest, most delicate of females you've ever seen. Her legs are very long and slender, her feet a work of art. Her arms are equally attractive, with beautiful, perfect hands that end in long, straight, heavenly fingers, crowned by carefully manicured nails. Her upper body is long and stylish, with a good-sized, perky bust. Her princess-like neck leads to the most glorious part of her body, her head. She has the most perfect face you can imagine, with high cheek-bones, big mouth with two straight lines of very white teeth, a Scandinavian kind of nose and deep, deep, beautifully intelligent blue eyes. Her blond hair is, more often than not, gathered up into an aristocratic bun. Her demeanor and presence are fantastic. Her taste in clothing is superb and she'll only wear the very best. Whatever she puts on makes her look like the goddess she is. But all this makes an even more effective impression when you hear her voice and how she inflects it. Think of a flowing brook of honey and you'll get an idea of what her speech sounds like.
When I first saw her I couldn't believe my eyes, for she was the angel I had seen in my dreams when healing from Onda's second spanking. She was the protective celestial being coming down from heaven to reassure me and tell me everything would be all right. To this day the truth hasn't been revealed to me and I haven't been able to work it out by myself. Is there some hypnosis involved in this?
Contrary to Onda, Miss Emma, Molly, and the others, Dr. Elde has never given me an order or even talked to me but in the most tactful and respectful of ways. Her smile could disarm a mad gorilla; the delicacy of her movements could seduce a eunuch. I've always been at a loss for words in front of her. She is so superior.
The customary way for me to greet guests is kissing their feet, as Onda taught me. But when I met Dr. Elde my sight got stuck in her eyes and I couldn't move. Onda had to push my butt with the tip if her shoe a little for me to react. When I placed my lips on Dr. Elde's high heeled, classy, velvety leather shoes for my kiss I felt I could have died in that position. The doctor smiled sweetly at me and asked me how I was.
All through that afternoon I ran like crazy from the living room to the kitchen in order to offer Dr. Elde the best possible service with the tea I brought them. I was also very surprised when the doctor asked my wife whether she'd allow me to stay a little and chat with them. As with most of Dr. Elde's polite requests, Onda immediately consented. I was also allowed to bring one of my own chairs and sit in front of both of them. I was absolutely mesmerized by her incredible legs.
"Darling,” Onda reproached me, “I'll give exactly one second to stop being rude by staring at Dr. Elde's legs and start looking at her face as she talks to you".


12
Training

My training with the red satin ribbon and ring around my neck lasted several weeks. Onda kept me tightly under her direct control, constantly pulling or releasing the ribbon to create a sort of natural instinct in me to know exactly at what distance from her she wanted me to be. The ribbon became my constant companion, even in sleeping. Before going into my cage at night, I had to roll it up and keep it next to me until ordered to come out again. I also got used to washing myself with it and perform any action with the ring round my neck. When called out of my cage, I had to hand Onda her end of the ribbon, which she would take with her strong, huge fingers, 6 times the size of mine, 6 times as strong. I couldn't stop marveling at this.
During those weeks I had no alternative but to follow Onda everywhere in the house. When stopping I would usually receive a command to sit down, stay on my feet, lie down, and so on. When going to the toilet she'd keep me next to her but make me look the other way so I couldn't see her naked. I could smell her panties on the ground, I could sense her body odors, but I wasn't allowed to look at her, which, of course, had its inevitable effects.
My sexual desire grew by the day. The stricter she watched me, the tighter her grip on me, the more aroused I got. I couldn't stop thinking about Onda in her amazing size, her imposing presence. She knew what to do with me and did it with complete assertiveness. As long as I obeyed she'd let me be, but if I ever showed the least resistance or even delay in carrying out her commands, her punishment would await me on the spot. Once, for instance, I took too long to do what she had told me. She simply took the ribbon and tied her end of it to a doorknob, tight enough for me to stand on the tip of my toes but not to rest on my whole foot soles. I couldn't let go either, since the ring would start throttling me. In the meantime she continued casually walking around the house, hardly paying any attention to me and my little struggle against my impossible position. After a few hours, in which the pain in my legs grew almost unbearable, Onda came up to me and asked,
"Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Pril?"
"Yes, my queen", I replied through my stiff throat. "I'm sorry to have been slow in doing what you told me to. I deserved my punishment. It won't happen again".
And with this, she undid the knot and I collapsed down to the floor, at her powerful feet.
The number of chores she gave me to do also increased drastically. Do you remember the first one, on my first night out of the cage, when she told me to hand her the TV remote control? Well, anything possible, anything within my reach, at my height, became part of my obligations. For instance, I started to carry her coffee from the kitchen into the living room. It wasn't as heavy as it was uncomfortable, and I had to be very careful, for not only was it quite hot, but spilling was absolutely forbidden.
She also provided me with my first clothing ever. So far all I had had was some rough material, which I had used in my cage bed to cover myself at night. I had never been allowed to take it out of there, so I had always walked naked around the house. One day Onda gave me a couple of togas she had made for me. When I tried them on she smiled a little and said she'd have to find someone to take care of that. That was the first time she ever mentioned anyone else entering our little world. I didn't know it then, but she was talking about Molly.
Together with my chores, Onda also made sure I would become obedient beyond any reason, whether I knew it or not. We started to perform a few minutes of "obedience" a night, which became the foreword to the Ten Commandments, which continue to this day, as you know. In the obedience sessions I had to do whatever she’d tell me to, immediately and without questions. The whole scene could resemble quite well what you see in the circus with tamed bears, or at a friend's with his dog. Onda would sit on a sofa or chair and make me sit, stand, run around, hop, jump, dance, sing, play dead, and numerous other "tricks" that extremely humiliated me at the beginning. I tried to resist them, but her terrible punishments made any attempts absolutely impossible. I was hers, for her to do with me what she wanted.
Finally, one night, before saying good night at my cage door, Onda sat on her bed and said,
"Pril, on your knees". I did as she said. "You seem to have gone through this stage quite well. You're being a good and obedient boy. How do you feel about it?"
"I feel very well about it, my queen. I'm only happy you're pleased".
"Good", she replied. "From tomorrow on we'll continue as today, but without the ribbon. You'll still keep close to me, unless I tell you otherwise, but the ring will be off.
“Take it off,” she ordered and, as when ‘I’ had put it on, I tried for a few minutes to get rid of it, but I couldn't.
"Come here", she said.
And taking me in one of her hands, she grabbed the ring with the other and pulled it very hard upwards. The miracle worked again. My chin, nose and ears were a bit hurt, but the ring was off. Within my very limited possibilities, I was becoming a free man.
"Now kiss my feet and get into your cage", she ordered.
Still feeling a little funny without the ring around my neck and throat, I walked into my cage, looking forward to the next day.


13
First ‘free’ day

The day after, I waited impatiently for Onda's return from work. Once she walked into the room she ordered me out of the cage and said,
"Pril, today you'll be allowed to be out of your cage without the ribbon around your neck. You are to keep close to me, though, and not walk away unless I tell you. If I happen to send you beyond the reach of my sight you are to finish quickly what you are told to do and come back to me immediately. Any unnecessary delay won't be tolerated. Is that clear?"
"Yes, my queen", I said.
Right after this Onda rose to her feet and walked out of the room. I followed her closely, as I had done when guided by the ribbon. First we went to the kitchen for supper as usual. It still felt funny not to have the ring around my neck, but I was really enjoying the new way. Then we continued to the living room. Onda sat on the sofa and, removing her office shoes, said to me,
"Take them to the bedroom and bring my slippers instead."
I was a little taken aback, since it would be the first time I'd have to go to a different room from where she was. But the look Onda gave me corrected my hesitation right away. Her shoe size is more or less my height, but they are relatively light to carry, so I took both of them at once and came back with her slippers as quickly as I could. As I put them down next to her feet she said,
"Massage them".
I grabbed one of her feet with both my hands and started working my way from her toes down. I pressed as hard as I could, digging my thumbs into her soles. My wife has always been an extremely clean person and, although I could smell the day's sweat, it was by no means unbearable.
"That's good, sweetie", Onda said as I massaged on. It was probably the first compliment I had heard from her in well over a year and, although flattered, I also thought it was gaining me some kudos and I adopted a more relaxed way. After a few seconds she slightly shifted position when I was still working on a certain spot.
"Hey, don't move them yet", I complained.
Before I knew it I saw Onda jump up to her feet, put her hands on her hips, and look at me with threatening eyes.
"What did you say?” she demanded.
"I - I hadn't finished with your."
Onda pushed me with her right foot and knocked me down to the floor.
"Onda I."
She slowly started to press her foot over my flattened body, her big toe right under my chin.
"Is it just my imagination or have I just heard you trying to tell me what to do?” she asked, increasing the pressure.
Her toe was choking my throat and her foot squeezing my whole being. I tried to speak again but she pressed her toe on my throat even more.
"If I want to move my feet I'll do it, and you'll shut your mouth. If I want to do whatever I feel like doing, you'll stay there without uttering a word until I tell you what to do. Is that understood?"
I managed to give out a "Yes" and she released the pressure pushing me forward in the process. I rolled a little over myself and managed to stand back on my feet. Onda sat again on the sofa and said,
"Now continue with your work and don't say another word".
I obeyed and continued to massage until I was told to stop.
"Now put my slippers on my feet", she ordered.
I did.
Onda crossed her legs and sent me to bring her the newspaper. It was lying on the desk and I reached it climbing on a chair. When I gave it to her she ordered me to sit down. After a quarter of an hour or so she put it down and stood up.
"Come with me", she said.
I followed her into the bedroom. She had brought with her a section of the paper, which she dropped on the floor, next to me.
"Stretch it out and put my shoes on it".
And she disappeared for a few minutes before coming back with a little bag, which she also dropped next to me.
"In that bag you'll find shoe polish and several brushes and pieces of cloth", she said. "I want you to polish the pair of shoes I just took off and leave it clean as new". And she added, "Pril, this is going to be one of your regular obligations, so you better start getting used to it".
And with this she just left the room and I found myself standing in front of this huge pair of shoes, facing a job I couldn't even figure out how to realize. The shoe business took me a long time. I have always been quite meticulous about my own hygiene and appearance, but I would have never dreamed of cleaning anyone else's shoes, not even my wife's. Now I had to apply all my efforts to this task, and what I wouldn't dream of was refusing to do it. When I finished I found my whole body covered with black polish, from my face and toga down to my bare feet. I was also sweating and dying for some washing. My first impulse was to go to the living room and tell Onda I had finished, but I was afraid she'd punish me because she hadn't told me to do that. I was right. I just waited there double checking the shoes and tidying up the little mess I had left where I worked.
Onda came to the room and took one of the shoes in her hands. She examined it exhaustibly and nodded with approval as I waited expectantly. Then she took the other one and nodded again.
"Well done", she said. "Follow me", she added.
I followed her to the bathroom.
"Take off your clothes", she ordered.
Once I did this she grabbed me by my chest and put me gently in the sink and proceeded to turn on the faucet right above my head. She also handed me a small bar of soap, like those you see in hotels, which was quite large for me but not impossible to handle. She sat on the bathtub edge and watched me as I showered. I hadn't had a warm bath since the day I had been shrunken. The feeling was absolute bliss. The sight of Onda overlooking my nudity didn't go without effect. I couldn't stop looking back at her beauty, neither could I prevent an embarrassing erection which lasted throughout the whole shower. Towards the end I couldn't refrain myself anymore and I started caressing my penis, rubbing it with my hands.
"Stop that", came Onda's command.
I tried to obey but my desire was making me mad. I continued rubbing, gradually increasing the speed, my eyes rolling in ecstasy. Onda quickly flipped the faucet off and firmly grabbed my penis between her thumb and index. She pressed it so badly that all the pleasurable process building up turned instantly into killing pain.
"No masturbation", Onda said stressing her words. "You are not to masturbate either in my presence or behind my back, whether I'm home or not. You owe me complete chastity and it's yet to be seen what we'll do about your little needs".
She squeezed my thing even more, making me twist with pain.
"If I ever discover that you've disobeyed me in this respect I won't spare you any suffering. You're mine, and so is your sex".
And with this she let go of my penis. I bent over myself, badly hurt, completely wet, and utterly confused. Then she put me back on the floor, handed me my second rough toga and made me follow her into the bedroom. As usual, I kissed her feet good night and limped back into my cage ending, thus, my first ‘free’ day.


14
Sexuality

The polishing of Onda's shoes marked the beginning of what's been my main function at home ever since: to serve.
There is hardly anything in the house I don't have to take care of. My size makes every simple task quite -sometimes very- difficult, but almost never impossible. A number of devices (either provided by Molly or mysteriously brought home by Onda) enable me to reach almost everywhere. These consist mainly of a set of ladders of different lengths, rather light to carry, with rungs proportional to my body, and rubber ends to prevent them from sliding. I also use long rods with an interchangeable system of small devices attached to the ends, with which I can get to the remotest spots and corners. Cleaning, cooking, ironing, grooming, watering, fixing. You name it. The bulk of my day is devoted to maintaining the house spotless. What used to take me a few hours when I was my normal size (on the rare occasions I volunteered to help my wife) now engages me for most of the week.
I must say I'm quite proud of our home nowadays. Every shelf is dusted; every piece of metal shines; every room smells good. The whole household is kept to perfection in order to honor my queen. All this cleaning and maintenance is done when no one is at home. By the time Onda comes back from work I've pretty much finished with my chores and gotten dressed nicely for my wife. For from the minute she enters the apartment my task is to serve her.
Depending on her wishes, I help take her shoes and some clothes off and change into something more comfortable. I massage her feet, neck, back, shoulders, legs, arms, or whatever she tells me to. I warm her hands if they are cold; I scratch her head and brush her beautiful hair. I lie down at her feet for her to rest on or play with me. I help her wash off her light make-up; I manicure and pedicure her. I serve her dinner, coffee, a drink. Whatever she needs. Bath or shower time is the best. I soap her body and shampoo her hair. I clean off every bit of skin; I deal with any infrequent zit or pimple right away. If Onda is in the mood and I've behaved myself, she may also wash me in the process. The pleasures of such occasions could fill up chapters and chapters of a book. And the sexual intercourse sensations that usually await us are just impossible to express with words.
All this is nowadays, three years after my shrinking and a number of months after Onda decided I had achieved the stage to deserve it. The beginning, though, was quite different and hard. I had to learn everything from scratch and not without resistance and consequent punishment.
As I told you last time, my first task ever was to polish Onda's shoes. That same night she ended up squeezing my penis badly when I tried to masturbate in front of her. I spent most of the next day in my cage, my penis still in pain, until she came back from work. Once home, my wife ordered me out of my cage and took me to the kitchen to eat. Then she gave me a small pail with soapy water and pieces of cloth, brushes and scrubs, and told me to start cleaning the wall skirting around the house. While she read the paper, watched some TV, and made a few phone calls, I industriously worked at my job. Of course I couldn't finish it all, but I managed to do quite well.
As in the previous day, I ended up under the sink faucet again. My desire for Onda hadn't diminished in the least and my penis grew rock-hard throughout the shower. I had to fight my impulse to fondle myself for I didn't want to get punished again.
Masturbation had happened before, but only occasionally. Although I had felt sexual arousal from the very first time my wife exercised her power over me, it had taken me very long to understand and, finally, accept it. I had also spent many months dealing with the healing from her terrible retaliations at my escape attempts, so my sexuality went into a second plane. But little by little, I had started to fantasize about her dominating me, and the situation multiplied itself when I was allowed out of my cage and the psychological interaction shifted from a captor-prisoner to a master-slave one. The first physical contact, as when I had to massage her feet, marked the beginning of my mad desire.
Obviously Onda was aware of this process, but her plans didn't seem to include any sort of sexual manifestations, which made everything only harder. Her official banning of masturbation came at the worst possible time and I just couldn't obey it. During the following days, when my wife wasn't home and I was in my cage, I masturbated frantically, cumming seven -sometimes more- times a day. It got a little better after a while, but I was still extremely horny when one evening, while massaging Onda's feet, she said,
"Pril, I told you clearly a while ago that you're not allowed to masturbate. Do you remember that?"
"Y- Yes", I responded a bit hesitantly.
"Have you been doing it?” she asked.
"N- No, Onda, I haven't", I lied, already starting to regret it.
"You also know you're not allowed to lie, don't you?” she added a little more firmly.
"Of course, Onda", I added quickly, trying to sound matter-of-fact, knowing I was getting into deep trouble.
"So you aren't lying to me when you say that you aren't masturbating", she said slowly.
"No, my queen. I'm not lying", I finished quietly, starting to pray.
And with this, she reached out for her bag and pulled out a little transparent plastic container, not unlike camera films, which had inside a few drops of a clear substance.
"This container", Onda explained, "has in it some very interesting stuff that won't do any harm if you are telling the truth. If you are lying, though, it will make your pee turn blue, as a consequence of the sperm residue around your genital organs. And I really hope you aren't lying Prilly, because if your pee-pee turns blue, it will still be a light tone compared to the color of your penis when I've done with you."
Then she opened the container, placed it on the floor next to me and said,
"Pee in it"
My heart sank. My legs began to shake. A cold sweat bathed me in a second.
"Onda", I said, "I."
"Pee in it!” Onda said, raising her voice a little.
I slowly pulled my thing out of my toga. It looked very little and it was extremely crumpled. There were also a few drops of pee that had involuntarily come out, consequence of my fear. A ridiculous jet of pee went right into the container. It turned deep blue immediately.
Onda slowly took up the container, rose to her feet, and started to walk to the kitchen. I meekly trotted after her, my fear growing, as I still didn't know what she would do to me.
"Onda", I called. There was no answer.
"Onda, please", my voice betrayed my panic. "Please, Onda, I couldn't help it. My queen, I dream of you."
Without even looking at me she threw the container into the garbage can and walked back to the living room. I was still following her, sobbing at her feet, trying to get her attention. She sat on the sofa, crossed her legs, and easily took me up from the floor and placed me on her lap. With an indifferent look and never answering my pleadings, she removed my toga and passed a finger across my arms, fixing them tight behind my back. With the other fingers of the same hand she grabbed my legs and bent them firmly back, thus holding all my extremities behind me and exposing my body for her to operate. She was very calm, fully in control.
"When I give you an order, what do you have to do?” came the inevitable question.
"Obey, my, queen. Please, I beg from you." I started to cry, desperate with terror.
Onda took my penis with her fingers, right at the joint with my testicles, and squeezed it until I felt it was being pulverized. The pain was excruciating, I cried in agony. Then she slowly worked her way down to my tip, very slowly, bit by bit. She continued to pinch and squeeze hard every section of my thing, with different fingers, in different positions. I was burning with ache; I couldn't take it anymore. I tried to break free from her grip with the little strength I had left, but it was in vain. She held me tight with her hand; there was nothing I could do. As my frustration grew, my fear got hold once more of my whole self and I started to beg disconsolately for mercy. It fell on deaf ears.
Once she finished with her fingers she started to use her nails, which she's always kept rather long. My agony became even more intense; I seriously started to be concerned about the future of my penis. I cried like mad, my sight got blurred behind my tears, and I bit badly my own lips.
"What do you have to do when I give you an order?” her voice hadn't lost even a little of composure.
"Obey! Obey!" I shouted at the top of my voice.
"Are you going to lie again?" she asked, still calmly.
"No, my queen. No, please, no."
Then the worst came. She took my testicles between her fingers and started to apply her punishment to them. The first squeeze sent the pain up to my throat. A jet of vomit came out of my mouth and I became immediately dizzy. From then on my recollections of the rest of it are very confused. I know she worked at her "correction" for quite a long time. I also remember she asked me once more about the obedience and about masturbating. If I answered, I don't remember what I said, but I have no doubt that I got the message. The message I've been getting from the beginning of things. The message that rules my life.

15
I meet Molly

The recovery from the penis punishment (Onda hadn't exaggerated when she told me what color it would become) was a slow one. For the first few days she let me be and didn't call me out of my cage. I found it hard to move in any way, and almost impossible to pee without feeling horrible pains all around my pubic area. When she finally called me out again she also said that, from then on, I'd be staying out of my cage even when she wasn't home. My duties, by then, were sufficient to keep me busy most of the day. Her command became specific and usually took a little longer than the time at my disposal, making thus sure that I wouldn't indulge in any distraction. This became a habit and, within a few weeks, I learnt to take care of the house pretty much the same way I continue to do to this day. Onda also started to teach me the Ten Commandments as I've already described them to you, only that, in the beginning, we devoted full sessions to individual commands, analyzing every aspect of it.
One day, probably six months after I had first been allowed out of my cage, my wife called me and said,
"Pril, it's about time you start meeting some people."
For the year and a half I had been my new size, I had never seen anyone but Onda. People had been home, but whenever that happened I had been in -or been sent to- my cage, and the bedroom door kept close. Those visits had been neither too frequent nor too unusual. The most common visitor was Onda's mother, Miss Emma, whom I also met at a later stage. Then, there was Vekta, Onda's best friend, who was the only person in her circle I had sympathy for. I had also heard Maya's voice at least once. She had been our cleaning lady, but stopped coming from the very first day I was shrunken. I guess she must have come for her money or something. Occasionally there had been other, unidentified, voices, but I couldn't guess who they belonged to. Maybe for practical reasons, Onda decided that I was to meet Molly first.
"Her name is Molly", Onda said, "and I've met her not long ago. She's a very accomplished seamstress and has an excellent hand at clothmaking and other handiwork as well. I expect you to treat her (and everyone else you might meet) with utmost respect. As long as you're dealing with her you should behave the way you do with me at your best. You're not to talk unless you're talked to, and you're to finish your answers with the word ‘ma'am’. You're also to carry out immediately any order you're imparted. If I see you misbehave I won't spare you any consequences. If I'm not present and receive the least complaint about you, your punishment will be even worse. Is that clear?"
"Yes, my queen." I said.
"Now we'll see how you'll introduce yourself to Molly when she comes", she continued. "You'll stay in your cage until she's entered the house and come into the living room. When I call you, you are to come immediately in your most presentable way and kneel down as close to her shoes as you can. You're not to talk unless you're asked a question. When introducing yourself, you're to kiss both the woman's feet and tell her it's an honor to meet her. Then you'll get back to your kneeling position and await further instructions. Is that understood?"
"Yes, my queen", I replied.
"Now, do it!” she ordered.
I went once through the procedure and Onda was satisfied.
"Good", she said.
An hour later the doorbell rang.
"Go to your cage", Onda told me.
For the first time I heard Molly's voice. That shrill, uninteresting voice of a woman whose brainpower is inversely proportional to her manual ability. I heard both women kissing and going into the living room. After a few minutes of small talk Onda's voice was directed to me,
“Pril, come here!"
When I got to the room, Onda and Molly were still standing. Molly, a rather small woman, gave me quite a negative physical impression, in spite of being the first human being I had seen in 18 months besides Onda. She was very skinny, with a flat chest and rather dark and shriveled complexion. She looked older than her 40 years of age. She wore a simple dress ending in a mini skirt. Her legs, though thin, weren't of my liking. Her feet, however, were extremely beautiful and shod in a most attractive pair of low-heeled sandals. I walked up to them and knelt down.
"Just like my little bastard", I heard her stupid voice say.
This is what she always calls her husband, as I said when I first told you about her. But, because I'm not allowed to use dirty words, Onda and me refer to him as Little B. When I heard it first, though, I didn't have a clue as to what she was talking about.
"Introduce yourself", Onda ordered.
I kissed molly's feet and said,
"It's an honor to meet you ma'am. I'm at your service"
"Oh, me God", Molly cried. "Sure you've done a good job, darling", she said to Onda. "And you came here, you little thing".
And, before I knew it, she grabbed me from the floor. For the first time I noticed what Molly is famous for: her beautiful hands ending in ten very, very long, hard and sharp nails. Together with this, I also had the impression that this woman knew what a man of my size was, and what to do with him, which was pretty shocking. She quickly walked up to the desk and put me on it. She sat down and casually crossed her little legs.
"Just look at this, isn't he lovely?” she said to Onda, standing next to her. "My God, you could be my little B.'s brother, only a little younger and more attractive, of course. Oh, me God! Just look at this body. Oh, you're a hunk. You're a killer, aren't you?"
And with that she inserted one of her fingers inside my toga and stripped me off it with a snatch. Her expert hands turned my body in every position. She examined my head, my ears, my mouth; she opened my arms and legs, and had a long look at my penis, almost completely recovered from Onda's punishment. Then she turned me around and separated my butt cheeks using two of her long nails, making me feel utterly humiliated. Turning me back, she said,
"What a specimen, my God. Onda, aren't you lucky! Look at these muscles! Oh, Pril, I'm sure you could give anyone such a hard time if you got into a fight. Let's see".
And she knocked me down on the desktop and stabbed my arms with her nails. I swear she would have pierced them had it not been for Onda, who said,
"Oh, Molly darling, treat Pril well. Otherwise you'll have nothing left for next time. Besides, remember what Dr. Elde said."
Molly let go of my arms, and I stood back on my feet with pain in my arms and the biggest confusion in my head. What on earth was going on? Who was little B? Another man my size? What next time? Who was Dr. Elde? Wasn't she my wife's psychoanalyst? What, in God's name, was going on?
"Yes, you're right", Molly replied. "Now it's down to work, then."
And with that, she pulled a tape measure out of her bag, together with paper and pencil, and measured my whole body, from bottom to top, making notes in the process. She did it with great skill but never stopped talking nonsense. Molly gave me the full story of her husband as I've described it to you, which I know off by heart now but listened to in horror and disbelief then. She told me how he hasn't seen her face for 15 years since she allows him to look at her feet only. She told me he used to have a good body, too, until she took care of it.
"He shouldn't have cheated on me that one time, no sir, he shouldn't have,” she said very convinced.
When Molly left I thought I had gone through a bad dream, or something.
"Onda", I said to my wife.
"Yes?” she replied.
"Onda, who is this Little B. Molly told us about? Is he another person in my condition?"
"Oh, Pril" Onda said with a dismissive smile, "Molly is so peculiar, you know."
"Onda, please, I need to know what…"
“What you need to know darling,” she interrupted me, “is that you're much better off if you'll shut your little mouth before I get impatient. Is that clear?”
"Onda, please, I…"
"Is that clear, darling", and she gave a threatening step towards me.
"Yes, my queen", I had to give in.
That night I went to sleep as if I had discovered a new world, as if a window had opened in my little universe. How could I have known then that, until this very day, I still wouldn't know whether the guy exists or doesn't. No one has taken the trouble to reveal the truth to me, not even Dr. Elde.


16
Miss Emma

A few days after Molly’s first visit, she came back with a good number of clothes for me to wear, all of them of very fine quality and excellent finish. I was very proud to walk around the house decently dressed, a feeling I had almost forgotten about.
“Show Molly how grateful you are”, Onda told me. And I meekly kissed Molly’s feet.
“Isn’t he a darling?” Molly asked.
Together with clothing, Molly also provided me with more ladders and ropes to be able to reach anywhere in the house, for cleaning, cooking, and so on. Special care was taken in the kitchen, where she built a whole system to enable me to bring things down from the counter to the floor, where I’d mount a tray on a set of small wheels to carry it further into the living room.
A few days after, Onda called me and said,
“Pril, now that you’re properly dressed and behaving yourself, it’s about time you start meeting other people. The first person I want you to meet is my mother”.
This was inevitable. My relationship with Miss Emma, Onda’s mom, had never been good. She had disliked me from the very beginning, even before meeting me.
“He’s not good for you”, she had warned her beloved daughter when hearing about my behavior.
But Onda was madly in love with me and had decided to go ahead with the wedding plans.
Miss Emma is 55 years old and her appearance still reminds us that, when young, she must have been quite an attractive woman. She’s very prim and proper –like the education she gave her only daughter-- and a bit old fashioned. She still finds it difficult to accept that in this world not everyone is white, Christian, western and heterosexual; but I guess she tries her best to adapt to it. Deep down she’s a generous soul and wouldn’t deny anything to Onda, whom she deeply loves. For example, she paid for half our apartment when we bought it, making it very easy for us (or, I should say after my record of unemployment, for Onda) to sort out our debt pretty quickly.
Until a year after our marriage I had continued to see Miss Emma more or less regularly. But a final break had come up (I’ll tell you later how) and I hadn’t seen her ever since. That means to say that we hadn’t seen each other for, at least, two and a half years.
“I want us to become a family again”, Onda said, “and I want you to make things easy for her. You know how she is and what to expect from her. It is already hard for her to have consented to see you at your new size, so I want you to behave at your best and please her in every way. The rules stand the same as when you met Molly”.
The day finally arrived, a Sunday morning. We heard her knock on the door and Onda sent me to my cage.
Soon I heard their voices and was called into the living room. When I got there I saw both women still standing, looking down at me. Miss Emma looked pretty much the same as last time I had seen her, only six times bigger. She was soberly dressed and, as usual, extremely well groomed.
“Pril, come here and greet Mother”, Onda ordered. I quickened my pace towards Miss Emma and kneeled down at her shoes. Something, though, kept me from kissing them.
“Say hello to Mother”, Onda urged me with sharper voice. I still resisted it a little.
“Pril, darling”, she said, “Do I need to remind you of what awaits you unless you greet mommy properly?”
That helped me to go on. I bent forward and, kissing her shoes, said,
“Miss Emma, it’s a pleasure to see you again”
“Oh, dear”, Miss Emma said. “That’s quite a change, isn’t it?”
“Sure it is, mom, because Pril is a changed man” Onda replied. And to me, “Aren’t you, darling?”
“Yes, darling”, I said with a forced smile on my face.
“And now, Prilly, show Mother what a good boy you are, and go to the kitchen and make us some coffee”.
So, off I went to carry out my orders, using the devices I told you about with my new expertise.
When I came back to the living room, mother and daughter were sitting on the sofas and chatting normally.
I served them their coffee, complete with cookies and napkins, and stood at Onda’s feet, waiting for further orders.
“I can hardly believe it!” Miss Emma exclaimed. “What ever happened to the big macho I remember you had for a husband?”
Onda just smiled and said to me,
“Sit on the floor till I tell you”. I did.
For a good half an hour they continued to talk, every now and then asking me a question. Most of the time, though, they pretty much ignored me.
When they finished Onda told me to clear up, and then,
“Very good. Now, my dears, I’ll leave you two here to talk about whatever it is needs to be talked about. I want the two of you to straighten out old conflicts and start again anew to become the family we should have always been”.
And, with that, she just got up and left the room and the house. I found myself standing at the feet of my huge mother-in-law, not knowing very well what to do.
Quite a few minutes went by before she actually said,
“All right, Pril. Where is it?”
Although her question took me by surprise, I realized in a split of a second what she was talking about. And it wasn’t good news.
The last time I had been to her house, just before we stopped seeing each other, and after quite a few months of unemployment, I had stolen a ruby and golden necklace from her room. Bad as I’ve always been, theft wasn’t really my thing. Yet, after such a long time of having no money and not being able to hold a job for more than a short while, I had become sort of desperate and, seizing an opportunity in which I found myself alone in her house, I had looked for some valuables and taken this ruby which, I was sure, had to be very expensive. A few days after, and encouraged by my first attempt at stealing, I had also stealthily taken a golden ring with gem from Saskya’s apartment. Saskya was one of Onda’s friends, and I had always hated her. As it happens, I ended up finding a durable job a few days after, so I actually never used the stolen goods to turn them into cash. My first impulse was to return them to their owners, but I found it impossible without risking being discovered. So I had just kept them with me. It was one of my nasty secrets.
Not by coincidence, Miss Emma broke any further connection with me after this incident. As far as I know she never mentioned it to Onda, but she must have realized what had happened. I guess she just didn’t want to add to Onda’s suffering, but she wasn’t going to have anything else to do with me, either. As time went by, I also ended up forgetting about it, and that’s why her question took me completely aback. Obviously, I had to pretend surprise.
“Where is what, Miss Emma?” I asked
“The ruby and necklace you stole from me”, an embittered Miss Emma replied.
“Miss Emma”, I exclaimed, “I don’t have the least idea what you’re talking about”.
She looked at me for a long while and then said,
“Well, I guess you haven’t changed that much after all”.
For a few moments I feared she’d try and scare me, but it wasn’t really in her nature, so she just took a magazine and started to read it. I continued my chores around the house, the two of us ignoring each other, until Onda came back.
She was in very good spirits and asked cheerfully how the chat between us had gone.
“It was all right, dear”, Miss Emma said indifferently.
But Onda immediately sensed that something was wrong.
“Pril?” she asked me sharply, and I felt the old fear creeping up my spine.
“I- I think it was OK, darling”, I tried to smile.
“Come here!” Onda commanded.
I carefully walked up to her feet and stood there as respectfully as I was able to.
“What’s the matter?” Onda said, the cheerful tone completely gone.
“Well, darling…”
“Don’t darling me”, Onda cut me short. “Bend on your knees and spit it out”.
Miss Emma was becoming an uncomfortable witness of a procedure that was completely new to her. She tried to talk Onda out of it all. But my wife was already in a different mode, a mode her mother hardly knew about, and gestured at Miss Emma to stay out of it.
“Miss Emma seems to think I stole something from her long ago, my queen. A ruby and necklace, she said.”
“And did you?” Onda asked concomitantly.
“Well, I-, I-, I-…”
“I, I, what”, Onda was starting to lose her patience.
“Yes, my queen, I did”, I had to give up. It was already bad enough. The more I lied the worse it would be later.
Miss Emma rose to her feet in disbelief. She had never seen her daughter overpowering me in such a way and was absolutely amazed by it.
“And where is it?” Onda demanded.
A fantastic idea crossed my mind.
“I sold it”, I announced solemnly. “It was after a long period of unemployment and I badly needed the cash”.
Onda’s next question, as usual, destroyed my plot as a card house.
“And who did you sell it to?”
“Oh”, I said, trying to gain some time, “a little jewelry store somewhere in town.”
“On what street?” Onda insisted.
“I- I don’t remember, my queen”, I said, my legs starting to falter.
“Pril”, Onda said slowly and clearly, “I’ll count up to three to give you time to tell me exactly where it is. Otherwise your punishment will be much worse than the one you already deserve”
And, with that, she started, “One…, two…, th”.
“It’s in the store room”, I shouted, “at the end of the upper shelf in the closet, tucked away in a small box”.
Onda walked quickly past, leaving me on my knees, under Miss Emma’s astonished gaze. She soon came back with the small box in her hands. She proceeded to open it and take out the necklace in question. Miss Emma had joined her and said,
“Yes, darling, this is the one. I’m so happy to get it back, it’s a family memento, you know?”
And then, taking carefully out Saskya’s ring from the box Onda shot at me,
“And whose ring is this?”
“It’s Saskya’s, my queen”, I replied, tears rolling down my face, fearing the worst.
“Really!” Onda said a bit amused. “So I guess it’s about time you meet her, too, and do a bit of explaining.
The worst had come.
Oh, no. Not Saskya!


17
Saskya

My relationship with Saskya has been doomed from the very beginning. It was also intrinsically linked to Onda, for I had met them both on the same occasion, seven years ago. Onda and Saskya had been high-school mates and I met them at their fifth graduation anniversary ball, which took place one Saturday night, at the school premises. I had never attended nor heard of that school, but Alan –a friend of mine at that time- knew someone and was invited to the event, to which I joined him.
I could have never guessed that’d be the night I’d meet my future wife, nor would I have known it by the end of the evening, since it had been Saskya, and not Onda, the one my eyes had set upon. Both women, who were 23 at the time, for sure made the main attraction of the dance. I have already told you how good looking Onda is, with her good height, curvaceous proportions and convincing femininity. She has the kind of beauty that grows on you as you get to know the person better, physically and personally. But Saskya, man, Saskya is a time bomb, and at 23 she could have made many a model look plain compared to her. She has the kind of body that makes every man turn his head at her on the street, even if she is wearing baggy pants and loose t-shirts. She’s 5’10’’, with long, slender legs, a hell of an attractive bust, and very long, blond hair that falls seductively behind her back. She often wears fitting dresses that enhance the shape of her amazing body, and usually complements them with high heel shoes that make her look even taller.
That’s what she was wearing the night I first saw her and it took me but a second to fall crazily in love with her.
I couldn’t know it then but, maybe as defense mechanism against so many men hitting on her, she could be absolutely horrible with them if she wasn’t interested, making them feel really bad with her indifference and sarcasm. That’s what happened to me then.
I had spotted both women dancing with different guys and, at a point in which they approached the bar, I took Alan with me and went to chat them up. I can be quite fun when I’m in the right mood, so I started my little act in front of them, also bragging quite a lot, as it was my wont. Soon, though, it was clear that Saskya wasn’t interested in me; she didn’t accept to dance, even though I asked several times throughout the night. Onda, however, took to me from the very beginning and not only danced, but also talked intelligently, many times knocking easily down many an intricate reasoning I was sure was unbeatable. By the end of the night it was obvious I had found myself an excellent friend in Onda, although I still hadn’t realized we’d end up getting involved and, eventually, married. My pride still rankled at Saskya’s rejection, and the overall impression was that Onda was only a ‘second choice’.
From then on, and after I was formally going out with Onda, I’d behave quite annoyingly when being with Saskya, a challenge the woman never avoided, making me look pretty ridiculous in the end, sometimes in public. She never lost awareness of how attracted I was to her and would use even that to beat me. A sort on enmity developed between us, which eventually made me decide to steal the diamond ring from her a few days after I had stolen miss Emma’s necklace. That event went pretty much unnoticed (probably because of the rather large stock of jewelry she had), but my naughtiest act against her didn’t. In fact, it had led to the final breakup between us, some three and a half years ago.
Saskya had been involved, on and off, with a brute of a boyfriend called Pac. He was a huge, muscular ass of a guy that must have impressed her with his looks, since there wasn’t much brain to look for in him. She had suffered quite a lot because of him but around the time of this little story she had decided, once more, to break up with him. Of course she was quite depressed and had invited Onda to cheer her up, and Onda had made the mistake of taking me with her.
She sort of convinced Saskya to go out with us for a drink or something, and the latter, accepting, started to try on a few dresses in front of us. The more she tried, the hornier I was getting; and the more she realized, the more she was enjoying it. At some point we got stuck with two dresses, she telling me this one fitted her better, I insisting on that one. But then she just waved the whole thing off saying something like “Oh, anyway it’s not for you that I’m wearing it”. I took this remark as a personal offence and, in my rush, had banged my fist on my ashtray with the intention of spreading the ashes all over her dress, which was white. I had never envisaged, though, that a little cigarette butt not completely extinguished would end up burning a hole into it. This was twice bad, because Saskya, who every now and then could have a cigarette, didn’t really like people smoking in her house, especially a heavy smoker like I was. Her instant reaction didn’t make things easier. She flew at me with pointed nails, but I quickly rose to my feet and grabbed her wrists with my hands. With a feeling of victory, so rare against her, I had uttered the words that I’d have to regret more than three years later,
“I’m sorry, darling, but you’ll have to wait till you’re bigger and stronger to beat me in this way”.
Saskya was out of herself with rage and Onda, who had come to cheer her up, felt deeply embarrassed and ashamed. For weeks she kept apologizing about my behavior and, finally, got the forgiveness from Saskya, who made the condition of their future friendship that I wouldn’t be included in it. So, what I just told you was the last time I ever saw the woman, the last time, that is, until our next meeting. In our next encounter, well, in our next encounter she was a little bigger and stronger.
I desperately tried to convince Onda not to confront me against Saskya, but she wouldn't hear of it. I had stolen her ring and was going to return it to her. She arranged for her to come a few days after Miss Emma and I had to meet her following the usual rules. I knew I was on for a hard time but there was nothing I could do about it.
The day arrived and I was sent to my cage when Saskya rang the bell. Then I heard their voices chatting lively and my name, with Onda’s typical commanding tone. I walked slowly into the living room. There she was, a tall, slim, incredibly attractive 28-year-old woman in full blossom. She was wearing a white cotton dress (not unlike the one I had ruined –any meaning implied?) and very high heel sandals, which set her head well over Onda’s and miles away from mine. I couldn’t help feeling absolutely insignificant next to this goddess.
As opposed to this, when she saw this little thing walking carefully towards her she completely exploded with laughter. She bent over herself, her hands grabbing at her stomach, and couldn’t stop laughing.
“Oh, my God, Onda”, she cried, drying tears of hilarity all over her face, “This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. You should certainly give me the recipe for this. I sure could use it for a couple of people I know, Pac for one.”
Onda, a little tempted herself into laughter, said to me,
“Pril, come up and say hello to Saskya”.
I obediently knelt down next to the tall woman’s feet and kissed them properly. I had never been so far so close to such high heel shoes. Saskya’s huge feet in them made me feel even smaller than I was.
“Good evening, Miss Saskya. It’s a pleasure to see you again”, I said respectfully.
At this she just couldn’t contain it anymore. She threw herself on the sofa, her long legs spread all over, her laughing spell even more intense.
“Oh, my God!” she managed to say between her outbursts. “It’s a pleasure to… it’s a pleas… ha, ha, ha”.
Onda waited patiently for her to calm down and I just stood there wishing I could just disappear from there.
When Saskya finally gained control of herself she proceeded to cross her long legs and said to me,
“OK, Pril, come here and show me your ‘politeness’ again. Oh, God, I’m gonna enjoy this”
My eyes pleaded towards Onda, but she just said,
“Do as you are told”.
I went up to Saskya and tried to kiss her hanging foot, but she quickly uncrossed her legs, recrossing them the other way. So I went toward the other foot, but she just repeated the drill. And again, and again. Finally she let me kiss it and said to Onda,
“Onda, darling, do you think you can give Pril and me a few moments with each other?”
“I certainly can”, Onda replied, “but not before Pril returns to you what he once took illegally from your house”.
At this Saskya became most interested.
“Pril”, Onda commanded, “Go to your cage and bring Saskya her ring. Quickly!”
I ran to my cage and brought back with me the diamond ring.
Saskya saw it from the sofa and straightened her long body a little.
“Well, well, well”, she said. “It was you who took it, wasn’t it? I think this will only make our little chat more interesting, don’t you think?”
“Yes, Miss Saskya”, I replied quietly.
Soon Onda left us, but not without saying,
“Saskya, dear, feel free to teach him his lesson, but just remember that Pril is a changed man and that he’ll continue to change even more, so, please, don’t be too hard on him. OK?”
And with this, she just disappeared from the house, leaving me with this beautiful giantess about to show me her idea of a lesson.
“Very Good, Pril”, Saskya said. “Now come here and give me the ring”.
I got closer to her feet and held out the diamond ring, which was the size of my hand. Saskya leaned down and deftly snatched the ring from me. She examined it for a while and then put it on one of her fingers.
“So, Pril”, her voice turned suggestive, “Do you like my dress?”
“I like it very much ma’am”, I answered.
“And, does it remind you of anything?” she asked. It was obvious she was leading towards the night I told you about.
“I- I’m not sure, ma’am”.
“Oh, you aren’t”, she said, a bit amused. “Let me show you another thing that may refresh your memory a little.” And she took her handbag and proceeded to pull out a cigarette, then showed it to me and said,
“Take it”.
I took it with both hands. It was a long one, covering at least a third of my height.
“So?” she asked. “Any recollections?”
“Well, ma’am” I said in order to avoid further teasing, “I remember last time we saw each other I accidentally burned your dress with…”
“Accidentally?” she interrupted me, raising her voice.
“Well, yes ma’am, you see, I…”
“I guess” she cut in again, “your stealing my ring was also ‘accidental’, wasn’t it?”
“No”, I answered, “That wasn’t ac…”
“Aha”, she said with a faked understanding smile, “But the cigarette was, no?”
I didn’t answer.
“I’m waiting”, Saskya demanded.
Still nothing.
“Look here, Pril”, she finally said. “I don’t want to get involved in Onda’s plans, but if we’re going to see each other we better start with the proper apology you owe me since then”.
I looked down, my mouth shut.
Saskya lost her patience. She quickly leaned down and took me by my waist. Then placed me on her leg-crossed lap and snatched out from my hands the cigarette I was ridiculously still holding.
“Please let me go”, I begged from her.
“Sure I will, darling. But first you’ll have to apologize for having burnt my dress”
“You had provoked me with your dress modeling in front of us!” I shouted, trying to justify myself.
“Oh, yes?” she said with amusement. ‘Now you’ll see what a provocation is!”
I started to fight to get rid of her grip, but she only tightened it more. With her free hand she put the cigarette between her lips and then lit it with a lighter from her bag.
After puffing at it a couple of times, Saskya inserted the filter end into my mouth. The cylinder covered my entire opening, the soft substance got stuck in my teeth, and I found myself able to breathe through my nose only. I hadn’t smoked since my shrinkage, and I had completely gotten unused to the habit. The nicotine invaded my little lungs, and soon I felt like coughing.
Saskya took her time, calmly looking down at me. I could feel the easy dangling of her leg under my back. Oh yes, she was having a good time. Then, as she had me completely under her control, she said with a little smile,
“Do you remember when you told me that I’d have to wait till I was bigger and stronger than you in order to beat you?”
Unable to speak because of the cigarette blocking my mouth I nodded with my terrified face.
“Well”, she said. “It was really worth waiting, don’t you think? By the way’, she added, “Is the apology ready?”
Before I even had time to answer her, she gently pressed my nostrils together with two of her long fingers, making breathing completely impossible. After a few seconds I instinctively started to try to get my air through my mouth, only to inhale huge quantities of smoke that made me choke badly. Then came coughing together with a sense of panic; the more I tried to free myself the tighter Saskya pressed my arms against my body. Soon I felt the tobacco beginning to go up into my eyes, my ears, my brain…
Then, when I thought I couldn’t hold it any longer, she snatched the cigarette out of my mouth and stared down at me as I coughed frantically.
“Yes, Pril, something to say?” she asked wit a little smile.
It took me a few long seconds to stop my bout and regain my control. I was still putting my thoughts together when I saw the cigarette coming down again.
“No! Wait!” I shouted. “I’m sorry about my burning your dress,” I spat out. “I was wrong, I was abusive. Please forgive me! Please. Ma’am! Please Miss Saskya!”
“That’s better”, she said. And, putting me down, she added, “Now I want you to take off your shirt”
I did as I was told and Saskya handed me the remains of her cigarette.
“Burn it!” she ordered.
I felt a pang. I didn’t have that many shirts and I was wearing one of my favorites. But when I saw her threatening face glaring down at me I quickly took it off and dropped it on the floor. Then I took the cigarette butt and pressed it hard against my shirt. It burnt off in a second.
“Now clean up this mess”, she commanded.
I collected all that waste and ran to the kitchen back and forth until there wasn’t a trace of dirt.
Saskya pointed at a spot on her white high heel sandal where some ashes had made a little black mark and said,
“Clean them”
Her legs were still crossed and I had to clean them in that position. And they were the sexiest pair of sandals I’d ever seen. I got my usual huge erection under my pants.
So many months without sexual activity and so much arousing beauty around! What was I going to do?
My question would soon be answered.


18
The turning point

My story has been jumping back and forth a little bit, consequence of Onda’s diverse orders as to who to write about. But, to sum it up, I was imprisoned in the birdcage for exactly a year after my shrinkage (three years ago), including both escape attempts. Then followed six months of serious training and the first encounter with another person other than Onda: Molly. Miss Emma (Onda’s mother) met me some time after, and Saskya almost immediately next. I still have to tell you about Vekta, who I like very much, but we’ll leave that for Onda to decide. About a year ago –two after I was shrunk- I finally met Dr. Elde, that inspiring, mysterious angel.
During the last year I’ve been engaged in serving my wife as dutifully as I can. You should know that I love her deeply and don’t hold against her the least hard feelings about my present size and its consequences. She has taught me an awful lot about myself I completely ignored before, and I won’t deny I feel happier now than I ever was before, with or without her. I’d still like to be back my normal size and show Onda and the world what a changed man I am, but Onda doesn’t really like to touch that issue and I’m better off not pushing it.
A very big part –if not all- of our relationship’s success, lies in the amazing sexual drive Onda has awakened in me since that fateful day three years ago. As I’ve already told you, I live in constant arousal due to the fear and awe Onda inspires in me with her supremacy, physical as well as psychological. I’ve also told you we have a huge amount of sex, and I wasn’t lying. You may wonder how, since she had absolutely prohibited any outlet of my needs in that respect. Well, today I’m going to tell you how it started, in what I remember as one of the happiest days of my life.
Not long after I met Dr. Elde, Onda took me completely aback with the following statement,
“Pril, this Sunday we’re going out”.
I stopped dead in the middle of my duties and said to her,
“My queen, I beg your pardon?”
Onda looked at me with one of her beautiful smiles and said,
“You’ve been a very good boy lately, and you’ve also achieved complete sexual abstinence, difficult as it is. Obviously you’re making an effort to please me and, as you know, I not only punish, but also compensate when deserved.”
“My queen”, I replied, tears of emotions filling up my eyes, “I’m most honored”, and I started to cry.
“Oh, come, come, baby”, Onda said sweetly, and took me in her lap. She lifted my chin with her finger until our eyes met and dried the tears from my cheeks. “Now, let’s talk about how we’ll get ready for that, because it’s not that simple.”
She told me we’d have to go some isolated place in order not to be noticed by anybody. Also I’d have to travel in a special container. She showed me the thing, which was a kind of stiff plastic bottle cover, a bit larger than me, with just about enough room for me to sit or stand but not to lie down, unless the container were so positioned. She pushed a button on its side and the thing opened in two halves. Once in there, she proceeded to click it close. It felt pretty good in there. I couldn’t see through the black plastic, but there was ventilation coming from little openings above, which made the whole experience quite comfortable. This has been my ‘public transport’ whenever we go out together ever since. It looks very much as a thermos, so no one can suspect what really goes in there.
I waited impatiently for that Sunday to come. When it finally arrived, it presented itself beautiful and mild. Onda was in a great mood, albeit somewhat alert in the face of the new experience and its demands. We had prepared together all the necessary arrangements for a picnic and got dressed in sport wear.
Finally, opening the container Onda said,
“Very good, Pril. Now get in here and wait patiently until we get to destination”. And, with a darker tone, she added. “Pril, I really hope you don’t try anything foolish once I let you out. You know my punishment will be unforgiving and it will take things back to base one”.
As a gesture of my feelings, I walked up to her tennis shoes and kissed them tenderly,
“I’d never try such a thing, my queen. I’m grateful you’re allowing me to see the outer world once more”, and I walked into the container.
The rest of the trip, which wasn’t short I can only guess by what I felt, heard, and smelt. She put the container into the food bag and took the whole thing downstairs. Then she placed the container on the car’s front seat, right next to her, and we started the long drive. After something like an hour, the car finally stopped and the engine was turned off.
In a few minutes Onda put the container on the ground, outside the car and a wonderful aroma of nature invaded my whole body. What I saw when the container was opened has left an unforgettable image in my memory. I saw the most perfect, most beautiful, hugest forest you can imagine. I was out of myself with happiness. I started running around from flower to flower, from plant to plant, from tree to tree. And everything was gigantic. Everything was overwhelmingly breathtaking. I felt so happy. I was overcome with emotion. I hugged Onda’s feet in appreciation and kissed them lovingly. She had given me a gift from heaven. Onda smiled down at me and, after a few moments, she said,
“Now, listen to me, Pril. This experience might be quite dangerous for you unless we take the necessary steps. Don’t forget that something as harmless and friendly as a little squirrel could pose a threat for you at your size.”
Then she went on to give me a tiny whistle attached to a thin ribbon, and said,
“I want you to wear this around your neck all the time we are here. In case of the least danger blow it with all your might so I can come to your rescue. Try it.”
I did as she said. A sharp, annoying sound came out of it, audible enough to be heard quite a few yards around.
“Good”, Onda said. “Now, today, at least, I don’t want you to get too far from me, so, to save ourselves trouble with demarcating limits and so on, you’ll stay tied to a ribbon as in the old days.”
“But, Onda”, I started to protest, “I think…”
“Pril, come here!” Her tone had completely changed and I got a little bit scared. I got closer to Onda’s feet and looked at her expectantly. “I hope you aren’t starting to forget some basic rules between us, are you?”
“No, my queen”, I replied quietly.
“Good boy”, she said. “Now, take this and tie it round your waist”.
And she passed me a ribbon (as when I had first been let out of my cage), which I knotted tightly round my body. Then Onda checked my knot and attached the other end to a screwdriver, which she dug deeply into the ground. The ribbon was quite long and it gave me plenty of freedom, so the few clouds of her anger quickly dissipated and we both recovered our good moods.
We spent the rest of that day in bliss of sensations. We ate, we drank. We sang and played games. We listened to the radio. We found shapes in clouds. Finally, after quite a few hours of sheer happiness, we fell asleep.
When I woke up I found myself lying on an unusually soft surface. Little by little I realized where I was. I was lying down on Onda’s breasts. My first reaction was frightening; I thought I had crawled my way there in our sleep and I’d be punished for such a liberty. But then I saw Onda’s eyes looking at me with a sweet smile on her face and I quickly understood she had placed me there herself. I stayed put. Months and months of complete abstinence came to knock at the door of my desire. I felt my penis go rock hard and a wave of emotion electrify my body and mind.
Onda cocked her head a little bit more. I could feel the sweetness of her breath intoxicate my spirit. Something was about to occur. Then she simply said,
“I’ve got another surprise for you, today”.
The trip back home was one of the most impatient waits of my life. After quickly collecting all our picnic stuff, Onda put me back into my container and gently stroke my face with her finger before closing the door. My sexual awakening was unbearable and I had to force myself to an extreme in order not to lose it in the middle of the journey.
Once back home, Onda had somewhat composed herself and seemed to be in control, as usual. I could detect, though, something basically different in her whole attitude, as if there was a deeper communion between us. She made me tidy up the remains of the picnic while she busied herself elsewhere in the house. Finally, she said,
“Pril, come with me to the bathroom”.
Her voice was quite strict and I decided to obey her at my best in order not to ruin what was going to be the most exultant experience of my life. I followed her to the bathroom and, once there, she proceeded to turn on the bathtub faucets. A stream of warm, clear water started to fill it up. Then, looking at me, she said,
“Get undressed”.
I took my clothes off in a split of a second, even though I was trying to look natural. My penis was huge (proportionally, that is) and red, and it stuck out as a sausage. It reflected to perfection what was going on in my mind.
“Turn around,” Onda’s voice commanded.
I did as she said and I could hear she was taking her clothes off as well.
“Turn back again”, she ordered.
Now, I hadn’t seen my wife naked for two years, let alone having sex. She had seen me in my nudity a million times, but it was part of our rules that I was never to witness her womanhood, which, to all extent and purpose, was sacred. That’s why her last words, even though expected, gave me such a thrill.
I slowly turned around and started to look, little by little, from her feet up. What I saw will forever be remembered as the most glorious sight I’ve ever contemplated.
Onda was simply breathtaking. Her long, shapely legs, resembling perfect marble columns, led to her curvaceous, massive hips. Her sex, beautifully inviting, was already wet with desire. The young, tanned skin of her arms and shoulders framed exquisitely her imposing bosom, of soft white and dilated nipples. Crowning this monumental 30-foot goddess was my wife’s attractive face, looking down at her tiny, defenseless, desirous husband. Our eyes met and this mysterious, luscious smile took shape on her lips.
“Do you like what you see, baby?” she asked cunningly.
“My queen”, I whispered, “I- I- ”
“Shhh”, she said seductively.
Then she stepped into the tub and slowly sat down. Stretching out her long, wet arm she surrounded my body with her hand and brought me into the water, right next to her breasts. I was still looking at her eyes, completely mesmerized by the whole thing. I felt unique. I felt I was going through an experience reserved only for the luckiest ones.
Onda made me soap and wash her body, from her feet upwards. In spite of the difficulty of the job, half of which had to be done treading water, I found it fascinating. She gave me permission to kiss her anywhere I wanted at my discretion. I also shampooed her long, full-bodied hair and delicately washed her face. We kissed in our mouths…
Then it was her turn to wash me. She turned me around most tenderly and slowly soaped me from bottom to top. She also dealt with my swollen penis with just the right touch not to make me come.
“Hold it, baby”, she whispered.
When we finished she dried me with the end of her towel and then got up to dry herself. Still half wet, my angel carried me in her hands into our bedroom, light-bathed with the last evening sunrays filtering through the shutters. It was a picture of paradise.
Onda lay down on bed and, bending he knees up, placed me on her flower. I felt the soft, brown, curly hair as a velvety mattress behind my back. She played a little with my wet hair and I kissed her beautiful fingers, my eyes closed in ecstasy. Then she said softly,
“Pril, this is the surprise I had for you. Do you like it, baby?”
“My queen…” I whispered.
“Now, puppy”, she added, “make me come. Take my clit with your hand and play with it”.
I did as she asked, thus discovering the effect five little fingers can have on such a sensitive organ. After a couple of minutes of buildup Onda started to undulate her entire body. She opened up her big, powerful hands on her legs and began rubbing them up and down. Her breasts, swollen and erect, were bulging out, her nipples hard with desire. She started moaning and curved up her whole body in passion. My hand, arm and upper body were getting wet with her juices, and I was sweating as a result of my lust and physical effort.
“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” was the sweetest command she ever gave me.
Finally she came. She came in bouts of panting and tension release, her body covered with sweat. Little by little I stopped pressing her clit and, eventually, just waited for her to relax. All of a sudden it dawned upon me that not only me, but also her, hadn’t had sex for such a long time. My precious Onda, my queen. She had been as faithful to me as she had demanded me to be to her.
Once she calmed down my angel looked at me with her winning smile and, with a spark in her eye, quickly grabbed me in her hand and brought me up to her face. Before I knew it she pressed her lips against my penis and started sucking. I started loosing control; the amount of sheer pleasure was just too much. A couple of times I was about to come, but she’d always press harder or use her teeth in order to stop the flow. Ever since that day Onda has been the mistress of sexual balance. Balance between pain and pleasure and the subtle in between. Finally she let go. What had been building up for months on end, with the addition of the last dramatic minutes, was released at once in the longest, most glorious cum of my life. I felt this rush of lava coming down from every cell in my body to be channeled and released in an erotic convulsion. I kept rubbing my little body against my wife’s giant face for a long, long time. And she kept sucking until I felt I was drained out of my last drop. It was beautiful.
That night we made love half a dozen times. Onda guided me into the endless possibilities of such a sexual relationship and we set the basis for our future intercourse. I inserted my arms into her opening, and then my legs, and then my whole body, exploring with my limbs the most sensitive points of her vagina. She used her mouth, tongue, and fingers to provoke in me the highest sensations I had yet experienced. We loved each other throughout the night, and we continue to do so to this day.
In a last, significant gesture, very early next morning Onda got up from bed and, taking the birdcage, which had been my bedroom for two years, carried it into the storage room.
“Enough of this”, she murmured. And I was elated with happiness.
Ever since then, we’ve always slept together. May be two or three times I was sent to spend the night in my cage (after having disobeyed to deserve that), which filled me with sorrow, but we sleep together all right.
And that day, my dear friends, was the turning point in our relationship


19
Interlude

Very good, my dear friends. For over two months now I’ve been telling you about what my life as a little husband has been like. From the shocking beginning three years ago, to the turning point about a year ago. Ever since then life’s been pretty much the same. As I’ve told you before, I devote my entire existence to serve my adored wife. I take care of absolutely everything in the house and make sure Onda is most comfortable at every time. I must say there have been some setbacks here and there, most of them in connection with my occasional disobedience or my insistence on trying to talk my wife into returning me to my original size. Two or three times I became too emphatic and Onda had to remind me of who the boss was with her simple and effective methods.
Now I’m OK. I’ve accepted my condition and try not to talk or even think about it any more. May be it’ll come unexpectedly as so many other things have. I guess there still are a number of events I could tell you about, but they would necessarily be variations on what you’ve already read before. That’s probably why Onda hasn’t told me to write about them so far.
In the last few weeks, with the beginning of my writing, a few positive changes have taken place, tending to give me some wider range of freedom. For instance, we’ve stopped the daily Ten Commandments ceremony, which use to strain my body as a reminder of my obligations and duties.
A couple of days ago I decided to ask Onda why it was she had sent me to write at all. She looked at me for a long while, much longer than I could understand why, and finally said,
“Pril, I think it’s about time you have a serious conversation with Dr. Elde”
“All conversations with Dr. Elde are serious”, I answered a bit surprised.
“This one is more serious than all”, she said.
So, apparently, my writing is somehow connected to Dr. Elde. Was it her idea? I’ll have to wait. I always enjoy talking to the doctor. There is something so profound about her…


20
Revelation

My dear friends, I don’t think I’ll ever be the same man again, for what I saw today is –without a doubt- the strongest experience I’ve been through, at least since I was shrunk.
As announced by Onda a few days ago, Dr. Elde came over to our place to have the expected “talk” with me. She looked as gorgeous as ever, but what really caught my attention was the plastic container she brought hanging from her hand, because it was exactly the same design as the one I have to get into when going out with Onda.
With Molly or Saskya I would have allowed for the possibility of a joke, but with Dr. Elde, well, there was little doubt as to what it meant: another man my size had to be in there.
I felt my whole system collapse. A kind of fear, hope, emotion, got hold of me and for a few seconds I couldn’t react to the greeting procedure or the entire situation. Both Dr. Elde and Onda made a huge concession by not pushing me to follow strictly to the rules in the state of shock I found myself. After looking at each other Onda took her handbag and left the house without further ado.
Dr. Elde stepped into the living room, the container still hanging from her hand, and I meekly followed her behind. Then she sat on the sofa and, crossing her magnanimous legs, placed the container gently on the ground.
“Pril”, she said sweetly, “please come here next to me so we can have our conversation”.
Still staring at the container, I got closer to Dr. Elde’s legs (for once not becoming my main center of attention) and sat down on one of the little chairs.
“Pril”, she said, “it is no coincidence that some time ago Onda sent you to start posting your story on the Internet board. We knew you’d be pretty eloquent about it and you haven’t disappointed us. Do you like writing for the board, Pril?”
“Yes, Dr. Elde”, I quietly replied.
“I’m glad you do”, she continued, “because it’s our intention to use your skill to inform your readers about what’s really going on here”.
At this I felt completely lost. Hundred of thoughts were crossing my mind at a phenomenal speed. I slowly started to put together different recollections and events: Onda using (as Dr. Elde now) the term ‘we’ when first telling me about their plan, Molly and her constant allusion to her little husband, my dream of Dr. Elde coming to heal my wounds after Onda’s second terrible spanking (before I had actually ever met the doctor), and now the container. It wasn’t much evidence, but it made perfect sense. Something was going on.
“Dr. Elde”, I said cautiously, “Are there other people my size?”
“Yes, there are”, she replied.
“Is there one of them in that container?” I asked.
“Yes, there is”, was her answer.
My heart started beating fast and loud. All of a sudden more than three years of solitude and isolation were about to come to an end.
“Pril”, Dr. Elde continued, “What you’ll witness next isn’t going to be pleasant, but it’s a necessary introduction to your new task as a reporter”
“A reporter?” I slowly repeated.
“Yes, Pril”, she said. “A reporter of other people’s situation rather than your own. So I’ll ask you to be very brave and patient, for this is only the beginning. Do you think you can handle it?”
I quietly nodded.
“Good”, Dr. Elde finished.
Then, leaning down, she proceeded to push the button at the container’s side exactly as Onda does when opening it for me to come out. The thing unlocked but remained closed. Dr. Elde said with unusually firm voice,
“Del, come out”.
No sooner she had finished pronouncing her words the container opened up and a little man, exactly my size, came out.
My heart leapt, my blood froze.
The man, about 40 years of age, a bit shorter than myself, and on the plump side, was completely naked. Except for his nudity he looked pretty composed, quite erect and with healthy body. As he emerged from his container we looked at each other. I thought he was smiling but I also detected something odd about his expression. It took me a few seconds to realize what the matter was, but I finally worked it out: his eyes were dead. I don’t mean he was blind. He could see all right, but life was gone from them.
He stepped forward and went to stand next to Dr. Elde’s feet, a few inches away from where I was. He stopped there and waited silently. Then the doctor said to him,
“Del, introduce yourself to Pril”.
Together with the last sound from Dr. Elde’s mouth the little fellow started to talk.
“Good evening Mr. Pril. My name is Del and I’m very glad to meet you”.
His speech was uniform and somewhat monotonous, not unlike his sight. He stopped talking as abruptly as he had started. It was obvious that he was following Dr. Elde’s orders with infallible precision.
“Tell Pril your story”, she said.
“A year ago”, Del immediately continued, “I went out to a night club where I met a girl with whom to spend the night. I’ve always been of a violent temper and had many times physically hurt women in the past. This time around, though –and with many drinks down my throat- I crossed all limits. I took the girl to a hotel, beat her badly and raped her twice. Carried away by my own impulses and her resistance I got completely out of control and ended up killing her. My father is a very influential businessman with lots of connections in the government and he managed to get me out of the scandal. I was about to walk out free when Dr. Elde intervened. This was about three months ago and, since then, I’ve undergone a special treatment aimed at correcting my wrongdoings. Thanks to Dr. Elde I’m now a changed man and know the value of life.”
This was the end of his speech and, as it happened, it would also be the last words he’d ever pronounce.
Dr. Elde, still sitting erect on the sofa, her legs calmly crossed, said to Del.
“Lie down”.
He instantly stretched his body on the floor, facing up, next to Dr. Elde’s huge, beautiful feet.
Her next two words nearly blew me up. I still can’t forget them, and I don’t think I ever will. They still resonate in my brain, because I’ve never heard or seen anything like that before.
Leaning slightly forward, Dr. Elde simply said,
“Stop breathing”.
A cold chill flashed down my spine. It took me a couple of seconds to fully understand what was going on, but my worst fears started to materialize. The little man, his eyes still open, had stopped breathing. The first few seconds extended into a minute and then two. His struggle with nature and instinct of survival became more and more evident, more and more painful. But the power of Dr. Elde’s simple command was stronger than any force existing. I felt completely impotent. I was scared to death, I was confused, I was in absolute awe. Finally, Del’s little body started to shake more and more violently and, in an ultimate jerk, he stopped moving. His eyes were still open, but the man was dead.
I was trembling from bottom to top. Tears were racing down my cheeks and I started coughing convulsively. Dr. Elde patiently waited for my fit to pass, staring quietly at me. Once I calmed down, she took the flaccid dead little, insignificant body in her perfect hand and deposited it back into the container, which she locked.
I didn’t dare look up at her eyes. I felt, as I had never done before, the immense might of this woman, who could take someone’s life with the utterance of a couple of words. I fell down on my knees, lowered my head and started sobbing like a little boy.
“Pril”, Dr. Elde quietly and sweetly said, “look at me”.
I slowly raised my eyes until they met hers. She was smiling down at me, her head reflecting the glory of her power.
“This man didn’t deserve to live”, she continued. “Other abusers do. Not him; not a murderer. Our justice system was about to set this dog free. But wherever the Justice Department doesn’t deal with fairly in this field we take care of and make sure justice is done. You’ve just seen one case. One of many. Now I want you to go and tell your readers what you’ve just witnessed. We’ll continue our conversation some other time.”
And, with that, she took the container, rose to her feet in all her heavenly height and left the house.
I found myself lost in my own huge house, my limbs cold, my mind shattered.

21
Dr. Elde’s husband

After the disturbing events I told you last time I’ve been trying to calm down and understand what has happened. Onda’s been reluctant to talk about it and just told me to wait for my next session with Dr. Elde. That session was two days ago.
The doctor came over (this time around no container hanging from her hand) and told me a little more about what I witnessed last time.
There seems to be an organization –headed by her- that deals with heavy abusers and criminals that, somehow, manage to fool the justice system. Dr. Elde –a psychiatrist- holds a governmental position as advisor to offenders and prisoners temporarily jailed. That’s where the organization becomes acquainted with the different cases and either sneaks them out right away or hunts them down later. I still don’t know how they do it or what their contacts are, but I guess they must have a pretty efficient network since no one seems to know about them. She also told me they keep their selected prisoners somewhere out of the city, but that’s not for me to know yet. There these little people undergo special treatments according to the degree of their wrongdoings. In Del’s case (the little man Dr. Elde executed with the unpretentious words ‘stop breathing’) she had decided to take care of him herself. The doctor turned this big, influential tormentor into the little most obedient of automatons within a period of three months. So I’m absolutely sure of the effects of their ‘treatments’.
The doctor repeated that she expected me to continue to report what I see, but said I’d be getting around to the organization itself later in time.
“For the time being”, she added, “I’d like you to meet my husband”.
“I beg your pardon”, I said in disbelief.
“Yes, Pril”, she answered, “My husband is a man your size and I’m certain you’ll find a good friend in him”.

That was two days ago. Today I met the guy.
Onda and I prepared the house as to entertain guests. Dr. Elde arrived in mid morning carrying with her the by now well-known container. Like last time, she sat on the sofa, crossed her perfect legs and proceeded to unlock the container’s door. A very good-looking little man in his early fifties but in excellent physical condition emerged from it with the friendliest smile on his face. He looked up at Dr. Elde who, from her height was smiling back at him, and went up to her feet –shod in classy high-heel sandals, and hugged them with a devotion I’ve rarely seen. He filled them with kisses and rubbed his little face against them with unhidden happiness. A puppy dog wouldn’t have given a better show. Dr. Elde’s husband, slightly taller than me, was wearing shorts and simple sandals that made him look like a little boy.
“Darling”, she said, “I’d like you to meet Pril, Onda’s husband.” And she added, “Pril, this is Kail, my husband”.
At this, Kail outstretched his arms towards me and, walking in my direction with a big smile said,
“Oh, Pril, I’ve heard so much about you and I’m ever so glad to meet you”. And he gave me a bear hug.
I was overwhelmed with surprise. This guy was so friendly, so open so… so happy! I was also touched by the fact that he was the first person my size I was really interacting with.
“So am I”, I managed to respond.
“Darling”, Dr. Elde said, “You aren’t forgetting to greet Onda, are you?”
“Of course not, my darling”, Kail said, releasing me on the spot. He went up to Onda’s feet and, kissing them respectfully, said,
“Miss Onda, it’s such a pleasure to see you again”.
Onda pinched Kail’s cheek a little and said,
“Alright, the two of you. Why don’t you guys perform your duties quickly so you can spend more time with each other after?”
Kail followed me to the kitchen and helped me serve the ladies what I had prepared earlier. He was completely familiar with all the appurtenances and procedures. It was obvious we had been through similar training and he was used to it. After finishing our duties we were dismissed and I took him to my bedroom to get to know each other. I had been looking forward to something like this for such a long time…
He told me he had been shrunk twenty years ago as a consequence of having mistreated his wife badly.
“Dr. Elde mistreated…” I said, finding hard to believe.
“Yes, my friend, beaten and so on by me. Can you imagine it? But that was long ago, and now we are the perfect couple”
He described how everything was so smooth between them, how they loved each other, how they always were there for each other.
“How long have you been so perfectly happy for?” I asked aiming my question at what really interested me.
“Oh”, he said, a little uncertain, “twelve, fifteen years, may be”
“So, tell me something”, I asked with exasperation, “If she loves you so much, how come she doesn’t turn you back to your original size?”
“Don’t you know?” he replied with a surprised smile.
“No. For God’s sake. I don’t!” I shouted.
“Oh, silly boy”, he said rolling up his eyes. “Because I don’t want to!”
Now it was my turn to be surprised. I thought about it for a few seconds and found absolutely nothing to say.

We spent a good two hours together. Kail was so incredibly friendly and even-tempered. I enjoyed every minute of his company.
Then we heard Dr. Elde’s voice,
“Kail, darling, it’s time for your nap”, she called.
“Oh”, he excused himself, and cutting our conversation right where it was, ran quickly to the living room, where our wives were still sitting. I followed him behind.
Kail took his container and laid it down on the floor, the soft walls becoming thus a sort of mattress.
“All right, darling”, Dr. Elde said, “make yourself ready for bed.
He took off his clothes in a split of a second and stood next to his bed, smiling, awaiting further instructions. This disturbed me quite a lot. There he was, standing completely naked in front of me, not to mention Onda, utterly unaware of how ridiculous he looked. But, suddenly he said,
“Darling, may I kiss your feet before sleeping?”
“Of course you may, my little prince”, she answered sweetly.
Again he went up to his wife’s feet and repeated the ceremony I had witnessed earlier.
“OK, darling”, the doctor said. “Now get into bed and count with me.”
Count with me? I thought.
Kail lay down on the container and Dr. Elde said,
“One”
“One”, he repeated.
“Two”, she went on more softly.
“Two”, he whispered.
“And three”, she said very quietly.
“Th…”, and he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
Onda and Dr. Elde looked at each other with a smile of satisfaction.
“Isn’t he a darling?”
I just stood there, marveled at the whole thing.


22
Saskya’s boyfriend

Happy as I was to meet Kail, Dr. Elde’s husband, there are so many questions I’d still have to ask that I’ve entered a kind of restless state during the last few days. Onda says everything will be OK and I’ll only have to wait until everything is revealed to me. For the time being she made arrangements for me to meet Pac, Saskya’s boyfriend.
As you may remember from previous chapters, Saskya had been involved –on and off- with a brute of a fellow who used to make her life impossible. It was after one of their breakups that the incident with the ashtray and her dress took place. For some reason they kept going out for quite a few years and now Onda just told me he, too, was shrunk to my size. I’m hardly surprised at any of this any more. After what I’ve seen so far it is obvious that just about anyone could find himself to be a little 12-inch-tall guy. I must add that, although I don’t wish it to anyone to be in my plight, in Pac’s case at least I was quite curious to see how he manages with the giantess he now has for a girlfriend. Saskya has always been quite good at teasing people and, as Onda told me, he’s only been his size for a few months. The guy, who’s never been too brilliant, must be living a state of confusion beyond his ken. Yesterday I had the opportunity to check my impression.
They arrived home early in the evening. Saskya was wearing one of her cotton fitting dresses ending in a short skirt well above her knees. The high-heel shoes she had on only enhanced her long, slender, sexy legs. The inevitable container was hanging from her hand. I could already imagine poor little Pac trapped in there waiting to be released by his mistress.
After the greeting procedures Saskya sat down, crossed her amazing legs and said to me,
“So, Pril, You’re happy I’m bringing you a friend?”
“I was happy to meet Kail”, I answered. “Now, about Pac, I hope…”
“Oh”, she said cheerfully, “you’ll find he’s fast changing. I’m pretty sure he’ll be very friendly to you, and if not, you just come and tell me, all right? I’ll just er- fix him”.
Then she unlocked the little door and dear Pac came out into the open looking as confused as I had thought he would. It was his first time ever out of their apartment. A big, bulky young man shrunk down to 12 inches, he was ridiculously wearing shorts and a wife-beater shirt, a little small for his size.
“OK, mister”, Saskya called, “out you come and say hello to everybody”.
Pac ventured a few first steps forward in Saskya’s direction. He approached her beautiful feet and knelt down in front of them. Kissing the foot on the floor he said,
“Hello, my princess, I’m glad to-, sorry, I’m very glad to see you”.
Then, looking up at Saskya’s other foot, hanging far above his kneeling position, he hesitated for a while and finally stood up in order to kiss it as well.
“What are you doing, mister?” Saskya snapped.
“I-, I’m trying to kiss your other foot, Sask-, my princess”, he said, a bit unsure.
“And, what’s the matter?” she asked, “Can’t you reach it from where you are?”
“I-, I don’t think so, my princess”, he said.
“You don’t have to think, mister”, Saskya said coldly, “You have to do it. Do it!”
So poor Pac knelt down again and tried to reach her foot, which she kept at the same height on purpose. As the guy kept trying, his head pulling up with outstretched lips, a delighted, hilarious smile took shape on Saskya’s lips. Oh, yes, she was having a good time. Eventually she said,
“My God, Pac, if you can’t do even this, how are you going to cope with my plans for you in the future?” And she proceeded to lower her foot until he could reach its sole and kiss it.
“Now say hello to Onda”, Saskya ordered.
A similar ceremony took place, only that Onda kept both her feet on the ground to make his task easier.
“Very good”, Saskya said. “Now, do you remember Pril?”
At this, Pac started to look around until he spotted me. So far he hadn’t seen me. Pac and I had had a few unpleasant incidents in the past, when the two of us were pretty ruthless. I have gone a long way ever since, but he is only at his beginnings, and, thus, at a disadvantage.
“Hello, Pac”, I said.
“Hi”, he muttered.
“Go, shake hands with Pril”, Saskya told him.
He reluctantly came up to me and we shook hands.
“Now, the two of you come here”, she said to us.
We walked up to her feet and stood to attention.
“You go to another room and leave us ladies here alone. Onda and I still remember the old days, when you couldn’t be left together for two seconds without going into a fight. I don’t have patience for that any more. If we hear of any problems between the two of you we’ll make sure you regret it”, she said, and to Pac alone, “I know Pril has changed a lot, and, besides, it’s up to Onda to deal with him, but you, mister, if I hear of any complaints we’ll have to smooth it out, and you know what that means, don’t you?”
Instinctively covering his butt with his hands, Pac said,
“Yes, my princess”.
“Good boy”, she said. “Now, out of here!”
I took Pac for a tour around the house hoping to find in him another friend. Finally we stayed in the storeroom, where the birdcage no longer in use had found its last destination. From the very beginning he pestered me with questions about everything in connection with being shrunk men to our partners. I did my best to answer as many as I could, mainly from my own experience. Some answers I just chose to keep hidden from him (sure that Onda would have done the same), let alone those I wasn’t able to respond because I myself ignore the explanation. Then he told me the way Saskya was handling him and, in comparison, Onda, did a heck of a fine job when I was first shrunk. I’d have a sample of that later.
It wasn’t too long before Pac’s mind started to work in the wrong direction. Finding himself in another, freer environment than his house, he told me he was going to try to escape from a window or something.
“Don’t be a fool”, I warned him. “I’ve tried that myself years ago and, not only did it prove to be impossible, but it also made things worse between Onda and me”.
I knew I was wasting my time with Pac. The more I tried to convince him to drop the idea the more he became enthusiastic with it.
“Tell me about your attempt”, he urged me. “I’m sure I can improve it. And may be you could help me by distracting Onda and Saskya while I find a way out…”
“Listen to me!” I shouted. “You’re taking the worst decision of your life. I know this place like the palm of my hand and I know my wife and your girlfriend well enough to sense the danger in your ideas. Just drop it. Forget about it. Let’s spend our time more positively”.
“So, you aren’t going to help me?” Pac said defiantly, ignoring all my warnings.
“I’m sorry Pac, I can’t”, I replied quietly.
“Oh, you’re a loser!” he finished, derisively.
“Soon you’d wish you were a loser, too”, we distinctively heard Saskya’s voice. Both Onda and her had been listening to our little argument standing on the hall at the entrance of the room.
The minute I realized of their little trap I kind of took it for granted. I had also refused to take part in Pac’s plot, so I was all right. He, instead, immediately understood things would go bad for him that day.
Saskya entered the room, her figure and height becoming the center of Pac’s fears, and comfortably took a seat on a chair, opposite a small desk. As she crossed her sexy legs Pac started to shiver a little. Onda came in after her and, sitting on another chair, called me silently with her finger to stand next to her feet.
“So, Pac, tell me a bit about your little plan”, Saskya said with an amused smile on her face.
“I-, I-,” he started to stammer. “It was Pril’s idea!” He finally shouted, a triumphal smile on his face.
Oh, you, sad ass. I thought to myself.
“Really?” asked Saskya, pretending surprise. “So how come we heard him trying to talk you out of it?”
“Er-, er-, I-,”
“Er-, er-, er-,” she mocked him. “Getting a little bit nervous?” she asked.
“Saskya, please”, his voice turned a little shaky.
“What did you call me?” she demanded.
“My princess, please”, Pac started to rub his hands together, as if he was cold.
“Oh”, Saskya said, pretending sympathy. “You’re a little worried because you know what your princess is going to do to you now, aren’t you, baby?”
He nodded, starting to sob.
“Come on, puppy, drop your shorts and show Onda what your princess does to you when you’re a bad boy”, Saskya said.
Pac, his legs shaking, slowly took off his tiny shorts. His minute bottom was red, surely as a result of Saskya’s policies.
I saw him standing absolutely helpless, crying like a baby in front of Saskya’s gorgeous legs, and couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. But, somehow, his huge erection showed that, after all, there might be something to be gained in all that.
“What is it baby?” she teased him, “Is it starting to work for you?” she asked.
“I’m cold”, he said with trembling voice.
Suddenly getting up, Saskya snatched little Pac off the floor and stripped him of his sandals and shirt.
“Do you know what you need?” she asked him lifting his chin with a slender finger,
“You need some warmth”.
And then, lifting up the arm in which she held him and stretching her long, slim body in all its impressive height, high heels and all, she placed Pac against the unlit bare light bulb, hanging from a simple white wire in the middle of the ceiling. She slowly removed her hand, so Pac didn’t have an option but to grab the bulb and bulb holder for dear life, looking down in panic. The height from there to the floor must have been an equivalent of 45 feet and, the storeroom being the scantiest furnished in the house, there was nowhere to land but the hard floor surface underneath.
Looking at her desperate boyfriend hanging clumsily like an improvised acrobat, Saskya said with a smile,
“Now, you give some thought to your plans, OK?”
And, walking sexily to the door she added,
“And don’t worry about being cold, this will give you the warmth you need”.
And with that she flipped the light switch on. The 100-watt bulb instantly cast its powerful light and heat. Pac immediately climbed up and, hugging the thin wire, put his little bare feet on top of the holder.
“Saskya, please!” he shouted.
She just waved a hand and threw a charming kiss to him before leaving the room.
I looked at one of the electricity sockets, right above the wall skirting, which has a switch next to it to enable me to click the main light on and off.
“Don’t even think of it”, were Onda’s last words before she followed Saskya out of the room.
I stayed there, keeping poor Pac company for a very long time. After a couple of minutes, and due do the light bulb heat, he started to sweat and slide down. His struggle became harder as he was trying not to touch the boiling bulb with his feet. There was no comfortable position for him to be in and he was slowly losing control on his endurance, both physical as well as psychological.
“Please help me, Pril!” he implored.
I felt completely helpless. Although he didn’t know I could switch off the light myself, he was trying to get me to push some soft surface to the center of the room, something like a cushion, he suggested.
“Pac, I’m sorry, I can’t.” I apologized. “If Onda finds out I’ve helped you she’ll kill me. You should have listened to me!” I shouted to him from my far below position. “Hold on there! You have to make it. You have to make it!”
A couple of times I ran to the living room to try and convince Saskya to put him down.
“You shut up”, she snapped at me, “before I hang you from this chandelier up here”.
A good full hour went by. Pac’s speech was becoming a blurred mess. I could hardly understand what he was blabbing. I started to fear he’d faint and just drop to the floor and break every bone in his body.
Finally I decided to take a last chance and, running towards Saskya, I knelt down in front of her and begged for his boyfriend’s life.
“Please, Saskya”, and I kissed her feet, “Have mercy on him. He’s only been shrunk for a few months and doesn’t know yet what his real stance is. I’m sure he’ll learn and become the good boy I am now. Besides, what’s a dead boyfriend good for?”
She looked at me with a derisive smile and said to Onda,
“Look at these two, going out on a limb after they couldn’t even stand each other” And to me, “OK, Mr. Lawyer, you’ve convinced me. Let’s go see how he’s doing over there”.
Once in the room, Saskya slowly got close to the light. Little Pac was almost unconscious, his legs clasped to the wire, his arms hanging aside, drops of sweat raining down to the floor. She easily reached up and took her defenseless boyfriend in her beautiful, powerful hand. Unaware of what was going on, he ridiculously tried to hold on to the wire. After plucking him out, she sat on the same chair as before and, lazily crossing her legs, put Pac’s flex body down on her lap.
Waky-waky”, she sang. “God, you’re hot!” she added.
He was hardly reacting, so she gently slapped his red face.
“Go, bring a glass of water”, she ordered me.
When I came back with it he was coming to.
“What? Where am I?” he said, confused.
“Drink this” she said, putting the glass edge on his mouth.
He sipped a little water first and then he drank it all avidly.
“So?” Saskya asked him. “Have you thought about how to escape from here yet?”
He looked up at her, now quickly remembering what everything was about.
“No”, he simply said.
“Oh”, she exclaimed. “If that’s all you have to say I think I’ll have to put you back up there to get a more comprehensive answer”, and she made a motion as to stand up.
“No!” he screamed. “Please, my princess, don’t. I won’t try to escape. I promise. I swear!”
“Oh, shame!” she said. “That means I won’t have the chance to chase you down. You sure you won’t try to run away?”
“Yes! Please, Sas-, er-, my princess. Please, please. I’ll be good. I swear”.
“Oh, you’re so cute when you beg”, she said, drying some sweat off his face.
Onda, who had also joined us, said to Saskya,
“Why don’t we leave the boys here for Pac to talk over his experience with Pril?”
“Yes”, Saskya answered. “That’s a good idea, don’t you think, Pac?”
“Yes, my princess”, he said.
She slowly pushed her tiny boyfriend up to her knee and his body, still sweaty, slid all the way down her long leg landing on her shoe. She then shook it a little to make him jump to the floor. Standing up in all her amazing, conquering beauty she said,
“Very good, gentlemen, I hope you spend the rest of your time together discussing some more er-, realistic issues”. And she left the room, followed by Onda.


23
Little B.

As you can imagine, it was inevitable that I meet Little B., Molly’s husband. You may remember that during these last three years in which I’ve been shrunk, Molly was the only person to ever mention another man my size, but because with her it was impossible to know, I had never been sure of his existence. Onda also kept pretty vague about the whole issue and, eventually, I just opted to take Molly’s word at face value in the hope that Little B. didn’t really exist. Because what she continually told us about him was hair-raising, to say the least.
After my crucial talk with Dr. Elde three weeks ago and the subsequent meeting of her little sentenced prisoner, then her husband and later Pac –Saskya’s boyfriend-, I knew for sure Little B. was far from being an invention. And, sadly, yesterday I had the opportunity to meet the poor devil personally.
Before going over to Molly’s house (her husband has never been allowed to go out since his shrinkage, 15 years ago) Onda saw fit to clarify a little point to me. She said Molly usually explains she shrank her husband because he had cheated on her once.
“That’s far from true”, Onda told me. “The guy not only cheated a million times with a hundred different women, but he also nearly kills Molly. She owes her present state of mind to him, because she used to be as bright as she is talented. If it weren’t for Dr. Elde’s treatment Molly would have certainly lost her brains forever. I guess the only way she can psychologically cope with the memory of what he used to do to her is by fooling herself into believing he just cheated”.
This brief explanation somehow made more tolerable what I was to witness a couple of hours later.
We arrived in Molly’s dwellings in mid afternoon. Onda let me out of my container right after Molly closed the entrance gate behind us so I could also see the surroundings. Our hostess was wearing a pair of simple, low sandals, and a miniskirt that exposed most of her thin, insipid legs. A regular T-shirt covered her flat upper body, and her face looked as plain as usual. Her hands, as I’ve already told you, are always noticeable due to the ten strong, long, perfectly manicured (and deadly dangerous) fingernails.
After the greeting procedures she ushered us through a wild, neglected garden into her house. She lives in a semidestroyed place where everything seems to be crumbling down. We entered the living room, which was a bleak mid sized square painted in some drab color. It contained only a few chairs around an old table, a torn big sofa, and two or three nondescript pictures hanging from the walls at slanted angles. The whole thing was depressing.
Molly offered us something to drink, but Onda said we had come mainly for me to meet Little B., and the sooner we did that, the better. So Molly, feeling a bit disappointed but never losing her good temper called,
“Baaaastard!”
A slight, thin, worn out little figure of a man raced into the room. He had scant, disheveled, dark gray hair, sunken cheeks and eyes, and sick-pale skin. He was also completely naked and there was hardly an area in his body that wasn’t bruised or swollen, surely a result of Molly’s ‘nail treatment’. A piece of old, filthy string was tied around his waist, the other end leading somewhere else in the house. I had never seen anyone in such bad shape standing on his feet.
He stopped his run right in front of Molly’s toes and, throwing himself flat on the ground started kissing each one of them back and forth, several times, muttering all sort of incomprehensible nonsense.
“OK, OK, stop that”, she said impatiently, and roughly pushed Little B. with her foot. He landed on his back, got up quickly again and started to talk to Molly’s feet. As you may remember, he’s forbidden looking at any part of his wife’s body other than her feet, unless she specifically orders him to.
“Molly, please, may I say hello to our guests, please, yes?”
His speech was as blurred as his appearance; his eyes were stuck on her toes. The whole picture was surrealist.
Molly had apparently decided to show me right there and then what their relationship must be like.
“What guests?” she asked, pretending no one was there.
“Er-, this lady and this little gentleman… here, next to us”, he answered with uncertain expression.
“Lady and little gentleman? I don’t see anyone here”, she said. “Do you?” she asked.
“Well, I think-, I mean-,”
“Oh, I see”, Molly concluded. “You’ve been drinking again”
“Me, drinking?” he said. “No, you didn’t tell me to”.
“So you’re lying, as well?” her voice became threatening.
“No, I’m not. I mean-; you didn’t tell-, no, you told me-, no-, I-,”
His eyes opened wide in fear as Molly proceeded to stretch her left hand open in front of him. She displayed five sharp nails resembling knives and, with a feline gesture, snatched Little B. off the floor.
“How many times have I told you not to drink?” she shouted at him with a crazy smile on her face.
“Many, many, many tiiiiiiimes”, Little B. sang.
My God. This was intolerable. I looked at Onda trying to read some sense somewhere. She looked back at me, but didn’t say anything.
Molly slowly closed her fist round her husband’s body, her fingernails stubbing him under his ribs.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch!” he cried.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch”, she repeated joyfully, giving the words some stupid melody.
Then she brought her right hand into the picture and started pricking Little B. on his chest, bottom, legs, feet… everywhere. Her torture continued for a long time. She poked, squeezed and pierced indiscriminately. And every new move left in him a red, blue mark; sometimes even blood. And all the way he continued to try to look at her feet. The whole thing was just unbelievable.
“Onda, please”, I said, “let’s get out of here”.
For a split of a second I saw doubt in her eyes, but she finally opted to stay put and told me to shut up.
After some long minutes Molly dropped her little husband to the floor. He was badly hurt, although he quickly got back to his feet. Looking at Molly’s, he said,
“Thank you, Molly, thank you”.
And then he fell on his knees and started to kiss her toes again. Once more, Molly kicked him away and snapped,
“What’s the matter with you, Bastard? Why don’t you say hello to our guests?”
“Oh, yes, yes. How stupid of me. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Ha ,ha ,ha.” He shouted.
And then ran up to Onda’s feet and started kissing them compulsively.
“Thank you, Little B.” Onda said. “Now, please say hello to Pril, my husband”.
He stopped dead and looked straight into my eyes. His face was that of a lunatic.
“You’re little”, he said, as if thinking deeply. “Have you been drinking?”
I was still looking for an answer when I heard Molly’s voice, sharp and loud,
“Oh, get out of here!”
Little B. disappeared from the room within a second.
I just stood there, trying to make head or tail out of that craziness.


24
Another chat with Dr. Elde

I was quite upset for a few days after our wretched visit to Molly’s. I understand the guy must have been pretty bad in the past, but I don’t see the point in keeping him under such eternal suffering.
“Why doesn’t she just step on him and finishes him off?” I asked Onda.
“Because her psychological balance is so dependent on him as his is on hers”, was my wife’s obscure answer. “And that’s why Dr. Elde also allows it to happen. If we lose him we’ll most probably lose her”, she added.
“We, we, we!” I exploded. “What’s all that ‘We’ I keep hearing from you and your Dr. Elde?”
Onda looked at me intently for a long time from her towering height until I started to feel uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry, darling”, I said to her. “I shouldn’t really take it out on you. It’s only that I feel completely frustrated. Can you imagine what is like to be in my condition? I’m forever at your or some of your friends’ mercy. I have no power, no saying, no… no dignity!”
As I talked Onda sat on a chair and crossed her legs in a most suggestive way. My speech came to a halt and a naughty smile appeared on her beautiful face.
“And you hate that, don’t you?” she said, her voice sweetening.
“Yes”, I said, unable to take my eyes off her gigantic body.
She gently took me in her mighty hand and delicately placed me on her lap. My heart started thumping violently as my wife unfastened my belt and took off my pants and underwear.
“You hate it so much that you’d change back to your original size right now, if you could”. Her voice was but the sexiest whisper, her touch absolute heaven.
As I began to feel the pleasures of her art my brain went numb and all I could think of was her, Her, her big, massive, huge her. I hugged her precious hands and kissed them frantically. Her massage became the most important thing in the universe and the endless stream of cum that spurted out of me drained me out of my strength.
“So, baby” my wife said, “are you ready to be your normal size again?”
I looked at her beautiful blue eyes and, unable to find the right answer, I just started to cry.
“Oh, baby”, Onda said. “It’ll be all right. It’ll be all right.”

Next day Dr. Elde and her husband came over for tea. Kail looked as happy and friendly as the first time I had seen him and we had a great time together. He brought along a chess set and board proportional to our size and taught me quite a few tricks I ignored, since my knowledge of that game was but basic. Then he also told me more about his life together with his incredible wife, their wonderful relationship, his eternal devotion to her.
He also carefully and politely avoided answering my most daring questions, very much the same way I had avoided answering Pac’s, a few days back. Maybe it’s a question of timing, or how long you’ve been shrunk.
“I’m sure my wife will let you know as much as you need to”, he just stated.
After a couple of ours, Onda called us to the living room and told me I was on for another chat with Dr. Elde. The latter said to her husband,
“Darling, I really need to talk to Pril about the Institute, so I think it’s convenient for you to do something else in the meantime. How would you like to spend your time?”
Little Kail thought for a few seconds and asked,
“Is it all right if I take your shoes to another room and polish them, darling?”
“I’m afraid that would be a little rude to our hosts, darling. Besides you’ve done that beautiful job only a few hours ago”, she answered. “How about writing a little poem?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Kail yelped. “A poem, a beautiful poem dedicated to you, my angel”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you”, Dr. Elde said. “Now, go over to my handbag and take from it your little pencil and pad, and ask Onda what room you’d be allowed to stay in for your writing”, she added.
After a few minutes of following his wife’s suggestions, Kail disappeared into the hall.

“So, Pril”, Dr. Elde said, “I understand you’ve been quite upset after meeting Molly’s husband”.
“Yes, Dr. Elde, I have”, I answered.
“I can see your point and I’d tend to agree with you. As Onda told you, Molly is a special case, probably because she was badly hurt for a long time and also because she is exceptionally faithful to our society and, thus, quite necessary for our procedures. I must add, though, that it is our policy to entrust the former victim with the care of her little husband or partner to do with him as she pleases. Of course there have been some sad cases that we regret, but all in all, it seems to work out pretty well, probably because of the directions they get from us before taking them home”.
“Dr. Elde”, I said, “may I ask what this society of yours is, or where and how it works?”
“Of course, Pril”, she answered. “Actually, that’s the very reason of our chat today. After we decide to submit a person to the shrinking process, we take them to our Institute”
“Your Institute?” I asked.
“That’s right”, the doctor said. “It is at this place that our educational process takes place. You could call it our headquarters. What I wanted to tell you today was that soon you’ll be paying it a visit to see it with your own eyes and later report it to your readers. The reason I mentioned your getting upset over Little B. earlier on is because you’re going to witness scenes that, in a way, are much harder to bear than what you’ve seen so far”.
“Oh, Dr. Elde, please”, I begged.
“Pril!” Onda warned me.
“It’s all right, darling” the doctor calmed my wife. “Look, Pril”, she said to me. “The Institute has been working for a long time and it’ll continue to do so with or without your reports. Only that you’re being given here an exceptional opportunity to stand a little above other people in your condition. When you see what others go through you’ll realize how privileged you are, so it’s up to you. One thing I’ll tell you, though: we’d love you to report on that, but if you don’t accept someone else will, and your privileges will just go away. So, what do you have to say?”
What could I say?