What a ridiculous week this has been. You probably won't believe this but Clayton actually broke up with me! I still can't wrap my head around it. Where does that meathead think he's going to find anyone who can even come close to my level when it comes to beauty and intelligence?

I guess I'm not too upset that he doesn't want to be my boyfriend anymore. Our relationship wasn't really one of romantic attachment, at least not for me. What I loved was how easily I could capture his attention, completely, with a slight adjustment of my posture or a slow crossing of my legs.

As intelligent as my Clayton is, he isn't the most competent when it comes to controlling his hormones. That was what I took advantage of, that was was gave me power.

So no, it's not that I'm going to miss anything romantic between us.

Instead, I'm miffed at the idea of anyone other than me having him! That boy, that power is mine and he's going to stay mine no matter what I've got to do to keep him.

Hmm, to keep him.. I think I've got an idea that will solve my property issues. It's a little something I'd been working on in my spare moments, but the time has come to put it to good use.

I've invited Clayton over for drinks and a "no hard feelings" talk tonight, and he's already accepted.

But you know me, diary. There are some hard feelings and I think I've got an idea about how to properly deal with them.

As I've yet to elaborate on here, I've been at work on a very special and unique project for several months now. Well, when I'm not allowing myself to become distracted by the amusing results of Clayton's lack of hormonal control.

It's a formula I've synthesized which, when consumed by two people, will create a flow of power from one to the other. Whomever holds the most sexual sway over the other will receive the power, while the one surrendering power is slowly reduced; physically, intellectually.. heh, socioeconomically, completely. Essentially, one becomes a god while the other is diminished to a microbe.

All I've got to do is put a little in our drinks, make a toast to remaining friends, and drink up. He won't see a thing coming, at least not with what I'm going to be wearing.

I'm gonna play that boy like a banjo.

See you later tonight, diary.

-

It's working.

I'm still all a-twitter over the initial results, but I'll do what I can to calm own and properly explain!

Before Clayton came over, I dimmed the lights just slightly to give my apartment a more intimate feeling, to help soften his concentration a little more. I got dressed in a tight red halter dress, the chest of which sports a vertical window of, well, cleavage.

A little on the nose, I know, but I'm not in the game of taking chances when it comes to matters of power.

A pair of black, open-toe platform heels completed my outfit, as well as a necessary illusion later to come into play.

Clayton arrived in rather casual attire; I suppose he thought this whole "just being friends" thing would truly work out as he planned. My poor, naive little whelp..

I greeted him at the door, smiling, and took in his expression as perhaps it dawned on him just what he was trying to give up. That dumbstruck look he gets when all the blood rushes to his dick is absolutely precious.

"Don't just stand there," I said after a moment. "Come on in."

He complied and finally tore his gaze off of me as he moved into my apartment and took a seat.

I grabbed our specially prepared drinks from the kitchen and came to sit across from him, being sure to offer a closer view of my chest as I passed him his beverage. His gaze rarely met mine, predictably, and much to my pleasure. My body was already far too distracting.

"So," I said, smiling as I reached out and held my glass aloft. "To mutual respect and friendship."

Clayton glanced at my face then, smiled a little himself, and nodded as he tipped his glass in my direction before downing half of it in one swig . My thirsty, predictable boy.

I watched him with a grin as I sipped at my drink. His obliviousness was just another rung of power for me to step up onto.

He had the formula in his blood now, traces of it at least. I could barely contain myself. I had to know if it would work as I'd hoped!

Leaning back in my chair, I was sure to take my time crossing my already long legs over one another. Clayton's eyes stayed glued on my lower body, and widened slightly as it seems he caught a glimpse of my panties. All according to my plan, of course.

"I'm going to miss having you all to myself," I mused aloud.

He gave a nervous sort of half-chuckle and murmured that he missed me too. His attention was still on my legs, much to my delight.

I rested a hand on my knee and gently slid my hand up towards my thigh, idly caressing my leg some as he watched my fingertips move over my exposed skin.

"Are you going to miss this?" I asked quietly as I traced my hand up my leg and over my hips, up to my breasts and then through my hair with a flourish.

It was like a magic spell.

Clayton's gaze roamed over my body, following my hand, and I could practically see the chemicals rushing to his brain. He grasped his glass a little more tightly and that's when it happened; his arousal combined with the potion with which I'd spiked his drink and both had reached a critical point together.

I was hit with a sudden rush of euphoria. Through the bliss I could feel my awareness expanding, as well as hear the seams of my dress pop and creak under the strain as my hips and breasts did some expanding as well.

Clayton seemed to shudder and I could barely see him sink into his seat a bit. I sighed, regaining my composure, and looked myself over.

My change was noticeable but barely so. The seams of my dress were still intact, but under much more stress at this point. I could definitely feel the difference; on top of having increased my cognitive abilities, my body felt like it was just barely keeping itself contained within my once form-fitting, now incredibly tight dress.

My amazement at my own genius was interrupted when Clayton dizzily stood. He murmured that he wasn't feeling well.

I stood also, and had to refrain from smirking. He had been a good nine inches taller than me, about six-foot-two, and he'd always stood a few inches taller even when I wore elevating shoes. At this point, Clayton was visibly shorter than me, by at least a full inch.

Watching his face, I could tell he noticed. His brow furrowed, he murmured that I looked taller.

"Is that so?" I inquired innocently. "Perhaps it's the six-inch heels I'm wearing."

They were only four inches, but he didn't give them a second glance, and merely nodded in response.

Now to attend to the downside of my experiment: updating my wardrobe to suit my new size.

It's a new day, diary, and I'm more than eager to continue my work with Clayton. Absorbing his height and abilities to focus has given me a feeling of incredible power already. In only half a night I was able to design and engineer a device I'll be using to monitor my growth, and his diminishment.

I've decided to confront him again today. That is, before someone else notices his changing height, or he somehow comes to realize it himself. As clueless as he can often be, Clayton's not a total dullard. So, I'll let him know exactly what's going on.

But only after I've had a bit more fun with his increased obliviousness.

This is going to be delightful.

-

Finding Clayton wasn't difficult. With his focus compromised, he didn't notice me following him back from his morning class, or slipping behind him as he opened the door to his dorm room. My ex-turned-subject seemed to move through the routine of his life in a slight haze; an effect of the power absorption of which I was happy to take advantage.

"Hey," I called, before he could fully step into his room and close the door.

Turning, he gave me a look of confusion, and asked me what I was doing there.

Wasting no time, I slipped past him and into his room, making sure to brush my chest across his as I moved by. I heard his breath catch in his throat when I did this; a sign of success. What can I say? I'm used to how he, and many others like him, operate.

"I wanted your honest opinion about something," I said, taking note of how much trouble Clayton was having in closing the door whilst balancing his attention between my words and my body. I finished with, "Do you think this bra is too small for me?"

He froze, and I struggle not to smirk. Though, even if I had, I doubt he would have noticed at the time. The already diminishing man's gaze locked on my chest and I felt as if a hypnotic beam were traveling from my breasts and directly into his mind.

He sputtered something, possibly trying to figure out whether or not he'd heard me correctly.

I took a step closer to him. "I bought it so recently, you see, and it did seem to fit at the time but today it feels like my tits may very well break right through it!" For emphasis, I lifted my hands to my breasts and squeezed them gently, as if protecting them from the imagined event.

Then I felt it again, and the event wasn't quite as imaginary anymore.

The rush of euphoria hit me first, followed quickly by a burst of mental energy and, finally, the delectable surge of height that brought me up another four inches. As I feared, my poor bra just didn't could stand up to the increasing weight of its load, and the entire thing, along with my top, fell away in shreds from my now, more powerful six-foot-six form.

Clayton staggered back into the door, now a mere five-foot-two in height, staring up in shock at his blossoming goddess of an ex-girlfriend. His expression read very clearly: "I have made a mistake."

Euphoria settling, I allowed myself to smirk triumphantly down at him, mine responding silently: "Oh, yes, you have."

He went pale, stammering, asking me what was going on. I relished in the moment, not answering him, letting him stew in his rising terror as I simply watched. It was fun to let his imagination fuck with his head a bit at first.

Still, I may have enjoyed the moment a little too long. He became a bit troublesome after that, and tried to open the door to escape.

In two strides, I'd slammed one of my hands onto the door to keep it closed. My other hand gripped him by the back of the shirt and threw him back across the room. It was incredibly easy! With his loss of height and muscle mass, now granted to yours truly, it was not unlike throwing a child. (Which one should never participate in or condone!)

Clayton scrambled to his feet and attempted to run. It was a dorm room, though, so even he soon realized that there were only two means of escape: getting past me, or climbing out the window.

Bear in mind, this window was on the third floor, and I'd just taken another significant portion of his cognitive focusing abilities. Logic held little sway over terror in my dear Clayton.

Luckily, I knew instantly what he was going to try, and arrived by the window before he could move to his feet.

"You can't win against me, Clayton," I stated, calmly. "Let's talk."

He made a dash for the door, which I also predicted. I was there before he could reach within a few feet of it, and I grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

When cornered, many animals result to the most desperate of struggles. This lad was no different.

He began swinging, weakly, unused to the lack of power with which I'd cursed him. Not to mention, his loss was very literally my gain.

Every pull of his muscles, every aim of his gaze gave him away. I slapped away his attempted punches with incredible ease. It almost felt like a game, and I began laughing!

This sound from me in response to his attempts to fight for his life were all the more terrifying for Clayton, and he thrashed about uselessly as panic overtook him.

I simply held him out at arm's length until he'd tired himself out. After a few moments he was staring up at me, pitifully, asking between breaths why I was doing this to him, and how.

Having not broken a sweat, it was easy work to drag his squirming body over to the bed and sit down. I held him in my lap and hugged him tightly to my chest, off of which the shreds of my top and bra still hung in tatters.

Clayton's head settled between my bare breasts and I felt him shaking. It was adorable.

I explained to him that this was all an experiment, and that if he played it cool and followed my orders, I would happily restore him to his former state at the end of the experiment.

His shaking and tenseness gradually waned over the course of my explanation. He seemed frightened still, but also convinced that I was telling him the truth. What a guy.

Once he was calm enough, I let him go, and watched him struggle now with his baggy clothing. That was for him to figure out.

I stood and opened his closet to take out one of his university hoodies. Clayton looked over and offered his hand, clearly expecting me to give it to him. Instead, I pulled it on and zipped it up over myself. The zipper strained against my chest, but the garment kept in place without tearing, which was the most I could ask for at that moment.

Puzzled and frustrated, Clayton opened his mouth to ask me why I was taking his clothes.

Before he could even begin vocalizing the question, I leaned over and tapped him gently on the nose once.

I cooed, "It wouldn't fit you anyway," and turned away to exit his room, laughing.

College really is a wonderful time.

This has been a great week so far. I've been engineering and selling my formula and devices--I mean, why not? They work!

In fact, I'm getting orders from people and companies all over the area. The money is wonderful, not to mention all the fame I'm receiving, both at school and in the local news.

My already buxom figure has taken me from a hot chick in physics class to a full-figured campus queen. No one can seem to look away from my shapely form, and all this attention has really boosted my confidence. I feel as if I own the world.

Which doesn't seem like such a far off dream, at this point...

All of my lady friends, and most of the female student body, made purchases of my work and have begun to outgrow their targets: mainly, their exes and those most attracted to them.

This hasn't had a very welcomed effect on those losing power to my fledgling goddesses.

All across campus, shorties are being bullied, and my Clayton hasn't been safe from the action.

Much to my amusement, of course.

He's been shrinking in smaller spurts, millimeters at a time, seemingly from the average random sexual thoughts many people have throughout the day. I'm not sure if he's noticed this happening, as his focus wanes every time he relinquishes his abilities and shrinks further.

I observed him yesterday afternoon as he rounded the corner from the library entrance towards the parking lot. He was fishing his car keys out of his pocket (still able to drive at this point, but we'll get to that), and not exactly paying attention to where he was going.

A friend of mine, Sheri, was approaching this same corner. She was one of the first to purchase my formula and one of the growth-tracking devices, and had already gained four inches in height.

The device she'd bought from me was in her hand, she was smiling, when Clayton rounded the corner and slammed directly into her. Sheri dropped her device, and Clayton's keys went flying.

He tumbled to the ground while Sheri simply regained her balance and glowered down at him.

"Learn to watch where you're going, little man," she growled as she snatched her device up from the ground. She also picked up his keys and smirked as she watched him scramble back to his feet. "Want these back, huh? Reach for them!"

I watched in sheer delight as Clayton leapt up over and over, attempting to grab his keys out from her grasp. Sheri laughed more with every flailing, hopping try he made.

After several jumps, he seemed to tire, which bored her. Sheri tossed his keys across the lawn and, when he turned his head to see them land, she turned her voluptuous body and slammed into his upper back with her expanded buttocks.

Clayton tumbled off of the walkway and across the lawn, as Sheri continued on her way, giggling. His face was beet red as he scrambled to take up his keys and make a mad dash to his car.

It looked like such easy fun, I simply had to enjoy tormenting him again myself.

My opportunity came the very next day as I made my way to the campus coffee shop. Just as I was opening the door from outside, little Clayton's hand reached out from inside. No doubt he was seeking the pushbar for the door, but what he got was a handful of the underside of my right breast.

We both froze and I smirked as I realized with whom I was suddenly dealing. Clayton went white as a sheet and tried abruptly to scurry around and past me. Quite easily, I grabbed him by the back of his shirt and held him in place.

"How's life going for you, short stuff?" I teased as I forcibly, and quite easily, turned him back around to face me.

His attempts to push me away were practically butterfly kisses, considering the pitiful state of his once moderately-muscular physique. He tapered off with a few weak slaps in my direction before sinking into himself and accepting his position as my entertainment for the moment.

Keeping him in place with one hand, I withdrew my monitoring device from my pocket and showed it to him. "You're just barely five feet tall now, you know. Shorter than any girl on campus; the entire female student body, my promising young goddess customers and friends, they're all superior to you now," I said.

Fear etched itself into Clayton's eyes and I observed with sadistic delight as he struggled to produce a response which might somehow save him from his predicament.

"In fact," I continued, over his desperate sputtering, "Take a look at my chest."

Of course, he obliged, perhaps even involuntarily. With his focus jeopardized as it was, his overactive sex drive was quick to take the reigns over his mentality. His gaze locked on my chest and I pulled him in closer, kneeling in front of him so that his face was mere inches from my magnificent bust.

"It's a chore to keep purchasing new bras for these beautiful tits.. They just keep growing, weighing down and bursting the seams and fabrics of every one I try. Why, they're larger than your head, by far!" I laughed, my breasts bouncing gently in his face as I did so.

His eyes glazed over.

In no time, I felt the sensations again. Euphoria, my mind expanding, my body surging with absorbed power and mass. Clayton shuddered in my hold on him and shrank further before my eyes. Overwhelmed, so very proud of my ongoing victory and growth, I resumed laughing and released him.

He was dazed, still staring at my chest as I turned my attention to my monitoring device. I held it to his eye level.

"Four feet, eight inches, Clayton. Thanks for the growth spurt."

I winked at him, and went on into the shop to get my morning drink. He stared after me in silent dismay.

What a surreal, delightful world I've created for myself.

Ah, today was just great. The girls and I have been discussing Clayton's increasingly pathetic state, sharing a stimulating cloud of schadenfreude, and comparing our fantastic figures. Among these gorgeous, powerful women, I always feel like a goddess queen.

We weren't all that far into our conversation today when I happened to notice the shortest man on campus himself wandering by. Speak of the dwindling devil.

"Clayton!" I called, and saw him freeze in place.

After a pause, he looked my way with blatant apprehension on his face.

I smirked and beckoned him over by calling him as one would a pet dog.

"Here boy! Come on over!"

It was obvious he wanted to resist, but even with his focus as it was, he knew not to disobey me.

The ladies and I giggled as he scurried over to stand, tense and rigid, before me. I already had my monitoring device in hand, and read aloud from its screen.

"Seven and a half feet as of this morning. Four foot nothing.. Can you guess which of us is which?" I asked, unabashedly basking in my power over him.

Clayton stared up at me helplessly. It would soon become his signature look.

The girls around me laughed and murmured, a few of them wanting to get in on the fun of teasing the little man before us.

"You used to date this hobbit?"

"He's shorter than my baby brother."

"Soon he'll be able to fit in your purse, Sasha."

We shared a raucous laugh at the idea, as Clayton blushed and cringed further into himself.

"Not a bad idea," I responded. "What do you think, babe? Want to be my little purse bitch?"

His face hardened in a brief flash of defiance as my words hit him. Somewhere, deep down, it seemed my boy still had a bit of fight left in him. How cute.

"Hmm, not yet, I suppose. He remains just a smidgen too tall.. Still, a vertically challenged cutie like this is good for something. Hold still, Clayton. Prepare yourself."

I turned and leaned forward just slightly so that my enormous thighs and ass were now in his face. He went rigid and stared, almost unblinking, at the sight before him.

"Make use of yourself and kiss my ass," I commanded with a smirk.

The voices of the girls around us rose in laughter, and amusedly scandalized murmuring.

There was a fraction of an instance wherein I could tell some part of Clayton was still trying to fight, but the sight of a massive goddess butt in front of him was far too much for his willpower to overcome.

He launched himself at me, face first, and buried his face in my ass as well as he could manage through the fabric of my skirt and the sheer weight of my cheeks. It actually felt quite nice, in more ways than one, and that pleasure was followed up by the rush of ecstasy I'd since come to eagerly anticipate.

The girls cheered when they realized what was happening; I was growing again, and Clayton was shrinking before their eyes. My form-fitting clothes ripped in several places but managed to remain on my body, if in scraps.

I felt Clayton's little hands clinging desperately to either side of my hips for a moment, his front resting along the crack of my ass, as he shrank and found himself lifted off of the ground. It tickled, actually.

Laughing, I shook him off and turned to smile down at him. He landed on the sidewalk, his clothes barely hanging onto his tiny frame.

Again I consulted my monitoring device.

"Let's see.. My, what a doozy. I'm eight and a half feet tall now, and you're down to just three. A whole foot exchanged between us; how generous of you, babe."

Clayton struggled to get himself to his feet and look back up at me, dazed. He clung to his clothes and, thanks to the looseness of them, was able to hide his erection.

"Oh, and you're late for your one o'clock class. Run along, my dear."

It took a couple of moments for the message to fully hit him, at which point he just barely seemed to do as told and stagger away.

We waved him off as he managed to make his way to the next building. It was at that point that a wonderful idea came to mind.

It was time to celebrate.

And also to change clothes.

-

So, I've decided to throw a little party with my fellow blossoming beauties. It's going to be a costume party, and I'm calling it the All-Goddess Soirée. It's going to be incredible.

All of my lady friends, and their friends--well, those of which had the wisdom to purchase my products--are coming together tonight to celebrate our victories. Nearly every male on campus has been reduced to a near-stupefied weakling, oh, what a glorious time to be alive.

There was a lot of shopping to be done before we could begin setting up the party. I went by his dorm room to retrieve Clayton so he could join me in my acquisition.

He made no attempts to resist me as I lifted him with my hands around his little waist. Once placed on his dorm room desk top, he was fitted with a bejeweled collar I'd picked up the day before. Then, I clipped on his leash and placed him back on the floor.

His tiny hands studied the collar as he stared at my legs and slowly lifted his gaze up the length of my devastatingly gorgeous form. I thought I heard him whimper.

"Be a good boy today, hm? We've got some errands to run," I cooed to him.

Clayton gave a small nod and crept timidly closer to my legs. I laughed and turned towards the door, lifting his leash to give him a gentle tug.

"Come along."

He scurried along with me as well as he could out to my car. By the time we reached the party supply store, he'd lost a few more centimeters simply from watching my chest as I drove.

Inside the shop, my boy struggled to keep up with my stride. No matter how much he tried, he simply couldn't match my pace with his now scrawny, almost prepubescent-looking legs. Half of the time it felt as if I were dragging him.

Which I was, actually.

It began to annoy me slightly by the third or fourth shop, how difficult he was making things by being so small and pathetic.

At the height of my irritation, while walking along back towards my car, I jerked on Clayton's leash to send him stumbling forward, at which time I simply turned my nearest leg so that he tripped spectacularly over my foot. He landed on his front and tumbled over helplessly, entangling himself in the length of the leash.

"Still losing centimeters and continuing to slow me down, Clayton. Tsk tsk. Can't you control yourself just a bit?" I asked, looking down at him and wondering just how much he grasped of what I was saying. I knew he wouldn't control himself even if he had understood; that's why this experiment has worked out so well, after all!

In any case, I'll give him the credit that he did try a little harder to keep up with me after that.

He fell asleep on the car ride home, exhausted from trying to follow his goddess around. Adorable.

While he sleeps it off on my sofa, I'll be getting ready for the party. This is going to be fantastic!

-

Oh, I love being right. Tonight was completely wonderful!

My costume was that of an eight and a half-foot tall Jessica Rabbit. I've always admired her style. I had the dress, gloves and heels made with special hyper-elastic fabric created especially for my growing consumer base and me.

In fact, my company is currently in the works for an entire goddess fashion line. Big things are in store, you could say.

The ladies arrived in gorgeous, drop-dead sexy costumes of their own. Nurses, police women, princesses, and more characters from popular media. It created quite the lighthearted atmosphere, as was my intention.

I delighted in welcoming my guests with little Clayton awake and now clinging helplessly to my knees as the beauties made their way inside. He seems dependent on me at this point, as if I'm his entire world.

Not that I mind in the least.

The ladies also brought along their exes, who were all in a similar state, though Clayton was clearly the smallest of them. Still, the more the merrier, and these dwindling boy toys were brought along for one reason and one reason alone: entertainment.

Soon, the festivities were in full swing. Throughout the length of the main hall, a catwalk had been constructed for our use, and the costumed goddesses lined up to parade their exes across it on leashes. (What can I say? I'm a trend-setter.)

The dumbfounded mini-men wandered timidly down the catwalk as they were led, looking up at their mistresses in uncertainty but still too helpless to try and escape them.

Then they games began! Our newer recruits, the shortest among we goddesses, brought in bins of stuffed toys. As the little men obediently marched along the catwalk, we began throwing the toys at them.

These shorties were getting toppled over left and right by the mere weight of our cotton plush toys! I laughed, observing from the sidelines with Clayton attempting to hide behind my legs.

One by one the little exes were pummeled off of the catwalk and sent sprawling to the floor. Their mistresses began gathering them up, giggling.

"It's time for Sasha's present!" I heard someone declare.

My brows raised and I observed my girls collecting their leashes and men together. As I watched, the men were stacked on one another and bound together carefully by the leashes until a makeshift throne of little human bodies had been created.

I was touched!

"Have a seat, queen Sasha!"

"This is all thanks to you!"

"We love you, Sasha!"

Smiling, I scooped up Clayton and held him against the side of my breast with one arm, as one would a pet.

"What a lovely gesture, ladies," I said as I stepped up onto the catwalk. The girls cheered, while the snugly-entwined men apprehensively observed my approach.

The ladies whooped and cheered as I stood before the "man-made" structure.

"Let's see just how long their structural integrity holds up," I murmured, amused, and inciting a bout of laughter from the surrounding partygoers.

The men shivered as they observed me turning to lower my massive, magnificent buttocks onto them. I eased my way down, carefully gauging how much weight they could withstand in their current formation. They began crying out, moaning, and whining underneath me as my ass settled on their backs, chests and faces heavily.  

There was a round of applause as I relaxed, smiling, onto my throne.

Still, our pets were dwindling due to their out of control sex drives, and this was an extremely easy method of setting that off.

Not even ten seconds later, I could feel the my squirming resting spot beginning to sink and become uneven. I laughed helplessly as my throne gentle toppled apart around and beneath me. Those who could wriggled free of their binds and began to crawl away to their mistresses, while the remaining groaned and tried uselessly to writhe away from the weight of my ass.

Feeling merciful, I rose up off of the weaklings and straightened my shimmering dress. A few of the little ones began pawing at my heels and ankles before they were gathered up by their goddesses once more.

I kept Clayton tucked against my breasts while my free hand fished my monitoring device out of my pocket. The readings were very pleasing.

"I've reached nine feet tall, Clayton," I spoke down to him, quietly, and with a smirk. "That would make you a mere two and a half feet in height. You're practically a doll to me, at these proportions. Did you ever imagine it would be this way?"

His eyes were wide, pleading and enchanted. I had become his world so easily, it almost made me feel sorry for him.

He nearly whimpered to me, "You're so beautiful.." as if it were the only thing he could manage to say.

I was charmed.

The pop of a champagne cork caught my attention. The girls were beginning to drink, spilling amber bubbles onto the heads of their victims as they cracked open and began to devour bottle after bottle.

A few rounds of presecco later, I realized my arm was beginning to tire from holding Clayton up. It'd be too much of an annoyance to keep track of the little whelp if he were on the floor, and I imagined it would be much more likely that I myself might trip over his leash should I try to utilize it at that point.

Instead, I lifted him above my chest and held him to face me. "Time to get tucked in," I slurred, giggling, before I pushed his little body down between my breasts. He gasped and squirmed when he realized he couldn't move, and his squirming only caused him to slip down further so that I could just barely see his face between the walls of my soft flesh.

"Perfect!"

By now, the girls were making up games with their tiny partners. I watched and applauded as a group of the men were tied together and dangled from a rafter by several lengths of interlaced leash. Once they were suspended from the ceiling, the girls interlaced their fingers behind themselves and held their wrists to their lower backs.

With their enlarged chests held out in front of them, the ladies began using their breasts to ram into the little man-piñata, causing the bundle of men to swing from one side of the room to the other.

More ladies gathered, laughing wildly as they stripped off their tops, and some of them their brassieres. The men were batted around helplessly from one side of the room to the other by the merciless, massive breasts of their ex-girlfriends.

My memory begins to fade at this point, I'm afraid, though a few fragments tell me that Clayton ended up shrinking further down into my dress until I couldn't see him for my breasts!

Entry Four
Ah, today was just great. The girls and I have been discussing Clayton's increasingly pathetic state, sharing a stimulating cloud of schadenfreude, and comparing our fantastic figures. Among these gorgeous, powerful women, I always feel like a goddess queen.

We weren't all that far into our conversation today when I happened to notice the shortest man on campus himself wandering by. Speak of the dwindling devil.

"Clayton!" I called, and saw him freeze in place.

After a pause, he looked my way with blatant apprehension on his face.

I smirked and beckoned him over by calling him as one would a pet dog.

"Here boy! Come on over!"

It was obvious he wanted to resist, but even with his focus as it was, he knew not to disobey me. 

The ladies and I giggled as he scurried over to stand, tense and rigid, before me. I already had my monitoring device in hand, and read aloud from its screen. 

"Seven and a half feet as of this morning. Four foot nothing.. Can you guess which of us is which?" I asked, unabashedly basking in my power over him. 

Clayton stared up at me helplessly. It would soon become his signature look.

The girls around me laughed and murmured, a few of them wanting to get in on the fun of teasing the little man before us.

"You used to date this hobbit?"

"He's shorter than my baby brother."

"Soon he'll be able to fit in your purse, Sasha."

We shared a raucous laugh at the idea, as Clayton blushed and cringed further into himself.

"Not a bad idea," I responded. "What do you think, babe? Want to be my little purse bitch?"

His face hardened in a brief flash of defiance as my words hit him. Somewhere, deep down, it seemed my boy still had a bit of fight left in him. How cute.

"Hmm, not yet, I suppose. He remains just a smidgen too tall.. Still, a vertically challenged cutie like this is good for something. Hold still, Clayton. Prepare yourself."

I turned and leaned forward just slightly so that my enormous thighs and ass were now in his face. He went rigid and stared, almost unblinking, at the sight before him.

"Make use of yourself and kiss my ass," I commanded with a smirk. 

The voices of the girls around us rose in laughter, and amusedly scandalized murmuring.

There was a fraction of an instance wherein I could tell some part of Clayton was still trying to fight, but the sight of a massive goddess butt in front of him was far too much for his willpower to overcome.

He launched himself at me, face first, and buried his face in my ass as well as he could manage through the fabric of my skirt and the sheer weight of my cheeks. It actually felt quite nice, in more ways than one, and that pleasure was followed up by the rush of ecstasy I'd since come to eagerly anticipate. 

The girls cheered when they realized what was happening; I was growing again, and Clayton was shrinking before their eyes. My form-fitting clothes ripped in several places but managed to remain on my body, if in scraps.

I felt Clayton's little hands clinging desperately to either side of my hips for a moment, his front resting along the crack of my ass, as he shrank and found himself lifted off of the ground. It tickled, actually.

Laughing, I shook him off and turned to smile down at him. He landed on the sidewalk, his clothes barely hanging onto his tiny frame. 

Again I consulted my monitoring device.

"Let's see.. My, what a doozy. I'm eight and a half feet tall now, and you're down to just three. A whole foot exchanged between us; how generous of you, babe."

Clayton struggled to get himself to his feet and look back up at me, dazed. He clung to his clothes and, thanks to the looseness of them, was able to hide his erection.

"Oh, and you're late for your one o'clock class. Run along, my dear."

It took a couple of moments for the message to fully hit him, at which point he just barely seemed to do as told and stagger away.

We waved him off as he managed to make his way to the next building. It was at that point that a wonderful idea came to mind.

It was time to celebrate.

And also to change clothes.

-

So, I've decided to throw a little party with my fellow blossoming beauties. It's going to be a costume party, and I'm calling it the All-Goddess Soirée. It's going to be incredible. 

All of my lady friends, and their friends--well, those of which had the wisdom to purchase my products--are coming together tonight to celebrate our victories. Nearly every male on campus has been reduced to a near-stupefied weakling, oh, what a glorious time to be alive.

There was a lot of shopping to be done before we could begin setting up the party. I went by his dorm room to retrieve Clayton so he could join me in my acquisition. 

He made no attempts to resist me as I lifted him with my hands around his little waist. Once placed on his dorm room desk top, he was fitted with a bejeweled collar I'd picked up the day before. Then, I clipped on his leash and placed him back on the floor.

His tiny hands studied the collar as he stared at my legs and slowly lifted his gaze up the length of my devastatingly gorgeous form. I thought I heard him whimper.

"Be a good boy today, hm? We've got some errands to run," I cooed to him.

Clayton gave a small nod and crept timidly closer to my legs. I laughed and turned towards the door, lifting his leash to give him a gentle tug.

"Come along."

He scurried along with me as well as he could out to my car. By the time we reached the party supply store, he'd lost a few more centimeters simply from watching my chest as I drove. 

Inside the shop, my boy struggled to keep up with my stride. No matter how much he tried, he simply couldn't match my pace with his now scrawny, almost prepubescent-looking legs. Half of the time it felt as if I were dragging him.

Which I was, actually.

It began to annoy me slightly by the third or fourth shop, how difficult he was making things by being so small and pathetic.

At the height of my irritation, while walking along back towards my car, I jerked on Clayton's leash to send him stumbling forward, at which time I simply turned my nearest leg so that he tripped spectacularly over my foot. He landed on his front and tumbled over helplessly, entangling himself in the length of the leash. 

"Still losing centimeters and continuing to slow me down, Clayton. Tsk tsk. Can't you control yourself just a bit?" I asked, looking down at him and wondering just how much he grasped of what I was saying. I knew he wouldn't control himself even if he had understood; that's why this experiment has worked out so well, after all!

In any case, I'll give him the credit that he did try a little harder to keep up with me after that.

He fell asleep on the car ride home, exhausted from trying to follow his goddess around. Adorable.

While he sleeps it off on my sofa, I'll be getting ready for the party. This is going to be fantastic!

- 

Oh, I love being right. Tonight was completely wonderful! 

My costume was that of an eight and a half-foot tall Jessica Rabbit. I've always admired her style. I had the dress, gloves and heels made with special hyper-elastic fabric created especially for my growing consumer base and me.

In fact, my company is currently in the works for an entire goddess fashion line. Big things are in store, you could say.

The ladies arrived in gorgeous, drop-dead sexy costumes of their own. Nurses, police women, princesses, and more characters from popular media. It created quite the lighthearted atmosphere, as was my intention.

I delighted in welcoming my guests with little Clayton awake and now clinging helplessly to my knees as the beauties made their way inside. He seems dependent on me at this point, as if I'm his entire world.

Not that I mind in the least.

The ladies also brought along their exes, who were all in a similar state, though Clayton was clearly the smallest of them. Still, the more the merrier, and these dwindling boy toys were brought along for one reason and one reason alone: entertainment.

Soon, the festivities were in full swing. Throughout the length of the main hall, a catwalk had been constructed for our use, and the costumed goddesses lined up to parade their exes across it on leashes. (What can I say? I'm a trend-setter.)

The dumbfounded mini-men wandered timidly down the catwalk as they were led, looking up at their mistresses in uncertainty but still too helpless to try and escape them.

Then they games began! Our newer recruits, the shortest among we goddesses, brought in bins of stuffed toys. As the little men obediently marched along the catwalk, we began throwing the toys at them.

These shorties were getting toppled over left and right by the mere weight of our cotton plush toys! I laughed, observing from the sidelines with Clayton attempting to hide behind my legs.

One by one the little exes were pummeled off of the catwalk and sent sprawling to the floor. Their mistresses began gathering them up, giggling.

"It's time for Sasha's present!" I heard someone declare.

My brows raised and I observed my girls collecting their leashes and men together. As I watched, the men were stacked on one another and bound together carefully by the leashes until a makeshift throne of little human bodies had been created. 

I was touched!

"Have a seat, queen Sasha!" 

"This is all thanks to you!"

"We love you, Sasha!"

Smiling, I scooped up Clayton and held him against the side of my breast with one arm, as one would a pet. 

"What a lovely gesture, ladies," I said as I stepped up onto the catwalk. The girls cheered, while the snugly-entwined men apprehensively observed my approach.

The ladies whooped and cheered as I stood before the "man-made" structure.

"Let's see just how long their structural integrity holds up," I murmured, amused, and inciting a bout of laughter from the surrounding partygoers.

The men shivered as they observed me turning to lower my massive, magnificent buttocks onto them. I eased my way down, carefully gauging how much weight they could withstand in their current formation. They began crying out, moaning, and whining underneath me as my ass settled on their backs, chests and faces heavily.  

There was a round of applause as I relaxed, smiling, onto my throne. 

Still, our pets were dwindling due to their out of control sex drives, and this was an extremely easy method of setting that off.

Not even ten seconds later, I could feel the my squirming resting spot beginning to sink and become uneven. I laughed helplessly as my throne gentle toppled apart around and beneath me. Those who could wriggled free of their binds and began to crawl away to their mistresses, while the remaining groaned and tried uselessly to writhe away from the weight of my ass.

Feeling merciful, I rose up off of the weaklings and straightened my shimmering dress. A few of the little ones began pawing at my heels and ankles before they were gathered up by their goddesses once more.

I kept Clayton tucked against my breasts while my free hand fished my monitoring device out of my pocket. The readings were very pleasing.

"I've reached nine feet tall, Clayton," I spoke down to him, quietly, and with a smirk. "That would make you a mere two and a half feet in height. You're practically a doll to me, at these proportions. Did you ever imagine it would be this way?"

His eyes were wide, pleading and enchanted. I had become his world so easily, it almost made me feel sorry for him. 

He nearly whimpered to me, "You're so beautiful.." as if it were the only thing he could manage to say.

I was charmed.

The pop of a champagne cork caught my attention. The girls were beginning to drink, spilling amber bubbles onto the heads of their victims as they cracked open and began to devour bottle after bottle.

A few rounds of presecco later, I realized my arm was beginning to tire from holding Clayton up. It'd be too much of an annoyance to keep track of the little whelp if he were on the floor, and I imagined it would be much more likely that I myself might trip over his leash should I try to utilize it at that point. 

Instead, I lifted him above my chest and held him to face me. "Time to get tucked in," I slurred, giggling, before I pushed his little body down between my breasts. He gasped and squirmed when he realized he couldn't move, and his squirming only caused him to slip down further so that I could just barely see his face between the walls of my soft flesh. 

"Perfect!" 

By now, the girls were making up games with their tiny partners. I watched and applauded as a group of the men were tied together and dangled from a rafter by several lengths of interlaced leash. Once they were suspended from the ceiling, the girls interlaced their fingers behind themselves and held their wrists to their lower backs.

With their enlarged chests held out in front of them, the ladies began using their breasts to ram into the little man-piñata, causing the bundle of men to swing from one side of the room to the other.

More ladies gathered, laughing wildly as they stripped off their tops, and some of them their brassieres. The men were batted around helplessly from one side of the room to the other by the merciless, massive breasts of their ex-girlfriends.

My memory begins to fade at this point, I'm afraid, though a few fragments tell me that Clayton ended up shrinking further down into my dress until I couldn't see him for my breasts!

This morning I awoke with Clayton draped across my stomach. He was barely a foot tall, and oh so cute in his sleep.

I picked him up with one hand and moved him aside as I stretched and stood to get ready for the day. At over ten feet tall, with the world's largest breasts and most devastating ass, I felt more like a queen than ever before. Moving my ever-growing body in any manner brought me a feeling of power, simply knowing how massive and intimidating I was to the rest of the world.

I stood straight and admired myself in the mirror, turning and posing with my chest out and my arms on my hips. I loved the way I looked.

Judging by the attentive stare I caught watching me throughsee x the reflection, Clayton also loved the way I looked.

"Good morning, sunshine," I called to him.

He walked carefully to the edge of my bed, as close to me as he could get without falling down, and watched me obsessively. I laughed and began taking off my clothes, making sure to toss them in his direction with article I removed. My negligee ended up over him like a translucent tent, and my panties nailed him right in the torso, knocking him onto his back.

A little moan escaped me as he surrendered another few centimeters of his height to me, likely driven by the scent of my panties now pinning him down. Feeling generous, I went to scoop him up from my bed and carry him with me to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and allowed him to follow me inside.

As we stood within the custom-built shower and let the water flow over my beautiful behemoth of a body, I could feel Clayton's dedicated gaze upon me. I looked down and poured a dollop of my shampoo on him, causing him to lose his footing and fall onto his backside.

Being covered in shampoo caused him to slide about on the floor helplessly. I observed him slipping about while I washed my hair until he came to settle directly underneath me. He was lying on his back, staring straight up at my naked body from between my ankles.

Another inch of his height was relinquished to me. As he'd long-since shrunken out of his clothes, Clayton's little erection was visible, though it took some squinting on my part to properly identify it.

"Why thank you," I chuckled. Rinsing my hair and body and watching him flail about in the barrage of bubbles flowing down me provided another bout of entertainment.

Suddenly, an idea struck me. I was having so much fun tormenting my little Clayton on my own, why not share this joy with my consumer base?

While I finished up with my shower, I was sure to trip up dear Clayton each time he attempted to stand. Seeing him toppled so easily by a mere twitch of my ankle or a sweep of my toes was inspiring, to say the least.

And each time he fell, he scrambled back to his feet to stare dutifully up at me, admiring me, as if he had become obsessed.

Perhaps he has?

We exited the shower, and I had to dry his little body with a hand towel. He quietly touched my hands and fingers as I worked, mesmerized, it seemed.

My amusement with his helpless little mannerisms and infatuated ways was a lingering reminder to set up our livestreaming video project.

-

For our first vlog together, I did a fashion tutorial targeted to women like me; those who are "on the rise", so to speak. It would also serve as an announcement for my soon to be fashion line, which I'd lovingly named Empowered by Sasha.

We began in my bedroom. Clayton was wearing only a t-shirt, one which I would soon have to replace, as he watched me longingly from the bed top. I wore one of the expansion - withstanding underwear sets from my premiere fashion collection for our growing women, and stood between my bed and closet door.

As I began to try on the clothes, I explained to the audience that the outfits were chosen by me, and that they'd be available in stores and online within a matter of days. I modeled them each proudly, crediting the designers and emphasizing what I liked most about their styles.

Meanwhile, I was working towards another goal. While speaking about the clothes, I would casually turn to Clayton and ask him what he thought of various traits.

"Does this make my ass look even larger? How about this bathing suit? Do you like the bustline?" I would ask, running my hands along whichever area I wanted to lead his gaze toward.

Predictably, and exactly to my intention, each of these attempts resulted in centimeters to inches being exchanged between us, thus enabling me to demonstrate the expansion - withstanding abilities of my specially - engineered fabric.

With every outfit change I made, I would idly, though not accidentally, toss the previously worn choice onto Clayton on the bed. It entertained me, and my dear audience, to watch him struggle to resurface. He was a little smaller each time, and I could see ladies in the comments laughing about how much more difficult his labor was becoming.

"What a weak little douche!"

"Is that your ex? He used to be huge! Wow! He's such a little guy now!"

"Careful you don't sit on him! He might not make it!"

Once Empowered hit the shops, my net worth skyrocketed.

I feel like the biggest thing the world has seen yet.

Pleased with how my first steps into the world of vlogging had gone, I soon hosted another stream.

This time, I sat at my desk, with Clayton standing on the desktop at six inches in height. I announced that we'd be doing a make up tutorial, along with some tips on living with our tiny charges.

As I spoke about the joys of having my little admirer around at all times, I had Clayton paint my nails for me. He had to hold the brush between both of his hands, something I and those in the comments found quite adorable. His work was a little sloppy, but he did look so cute doing it!

It took some time for my nails to dry afterwards, but the livestream continued, and so I ordered Clayton to put a necklace on me. Under my direction, he pawed compliantly through my jewelry until I gave the word. Then came the difficult part. Well, for him.

I unabashedly rested my enormous bosom on my desktop and ordered him to climb up to put the chain and clasp around my neck. Clayton gulped at the task before him, clutching the chain to his chest, as intimidated as he was drawn to the sight.

Then, he began to climb.

I moaned a little as his ascent started with him clamoring up the front of my bust. He clung to the fabric until he reached my bare chest, and promptly hopped onto the round of my right breast. There, he froze.

Another moan escaped me as the rush of euphoria hit and I grew, as he shrank, another inch. Clayton was face down on my breast, nuzzling his face into my flesh and holding on with all he had.

The video comments erupted.

"Get some, little guy!"

"You're gonna need a better camera, Sasha! Soon we won't be able to see him!"

"I have that shirt! #Empowered"

Unable to use my hands, as my nails were still wet, I had to use my wrists to rouse and jiggle my breasts to get Clayton's attention. He clung more to my skin and looked up at me. I blew him a kiss, and was granted another few centimeters in response.

Laughing, I thanked him and told him to get back to work.

He carefully continued on his way up to my neck and began trying to loop the chain around. At his size, however, his arms just weren't long enough to connect the clasp. Try as he might, all Clayton could do was hug at my neck with increasing exhaustion until he whimpered and collapsed against my chest, too tired to go on.

Ladies in the comments took pity.

"Aw, poor thing!"

"He's just too little!"

"He did his best!"

An idea came to mind and I tilted myself forward, causing Clayton to go sliding down my chest. He slipped down into my cleavage with the necklace, and began wriggling to disentangle himself from the chain and my breasts around him.

I watched his struggle and blew on my nails to quicken their drying; I had another idea.

Soon, my nails were dry, so that I could lift the chain of the necklace up from my cleavage, and Clayton with it. He was wrapped up and tangled so that he almost resembled a necklace himself!

"Perhaps I should just wear you around my neck," I mused as he dangled helplessly before me. He'd shrunk right out of his shirt, and I'd yet to provide him with any new clothes, so his little erection went exposed to the world.

On a whim, I blew at Clayton's body, causing him to twirl around, dangling from my fingertips, and suddenly shrinking even more. I gained another inch of his height and he slipped free of the chain to fall directly back into my cleavage.

I heard him moaning as he bounced down between my breasts and became pinned further down in their grasp. I thought for a moment that he might slip right under one of them and shrink away into nothing.

He's been rapidly shrinking, approaching a height that would be more difficult to keep track of. It's time to make special preparations for my little guy.

-

My livestreams of Clayton's ongoing humiliation and enslavement continued as I worked off-camera to prepare for his imminent microscopic state.

It happened during another vlog creation, actually, one wherein I had decided to challenge Clayton to a playful wrestling competition. I used one of my hands to toss him around and pin him down atop my desk. Once I had him pinned, I would poke and prod at his little body until he managed to squirm away.

Centimeters continued escaping him, until I pinned him down by pressing my whole hand against his body. He couldn't move a bit under my resting palm. Perhaps it was the scent of my sweat or the feeling of submission, but he shivered and shrank further so that I had to lift my hand to be sure I wouldn't crush him with the weight of it.

"Helpless little bug.. Don't worry, I'll take care of you," I cooed down to him as I picked him up gently between two fingertips. "Until you dwindle down, down, away into nothing.."

I had become everything to Clayton, taking up the whole of his perception and attention. When I wasn't holding him, he stood at the edges of surfaces or against the walls of containers, pining openly for me like a lonely puppy.

All the while, he continued to shrink, and I continued to flourish.

I'm now nearly eleven and a half feet tall, the largest woman on the planet, the head of my own multi-billion dollar company, not to mention budding fashion mogul, and I've recently poured a great deal of my resources into developing the strongest possible microscopic cameras known to man.

Today, I moved Clayton into the petri dish which will become his final home. He's so small now that I can scoop him up easily with one fingernail, but soon that might be too risky.

I'll miss handling him with my bare fingers.

-

I could still see Clayton with my eyes alone for another day or so after his move into the petri dish. All the while, whenever I was near, he continued to watch me as well as he could. It was as if his size and the rest of the world around him didn't matter anymore; I had become the subject of every ounce of focus he could muster.

He'd given me his mass, his cognizance, his ultimate devotion. I couldn't be more flattered.

This morning, however, may have been my final encounter with him. My brand new microscope, the strongest in existence, had been brought into my private lab so that I could get a better look at my nanoscale ex-boyfriend. He didn't seem to try to move or speak anymore at this point, he only continued to stare up in my direction, obsessing and seeking me.

I consulted my monitoring device.

"Less than a micron.. Why Clayton, you're even smaller now than last night," I commented, curious as to whether or not he could even understand my words at his scale. "I thought my bra was feeling just a little tighter today."

It's possible that he had understood, or perhaps it's just my wishful thinking, but a mere moment after the words left my mouth, little Clayton shrank right out of view, and possibly even out of existence.

I toasted to him silently with my glass of wine at dinner.

Cheers to you, dear Clayton. Thanks to you, my bank account and my bra cups will always be full to the brim.