Tonight was hard for Megan. I can tell that, already. From the moment I was struck with this illness, she has wanted me to do nothing but relax and let her take care of me . Were I to not say anything, I could probably have her waiting on me, hand and foot, doing anything and everything for me. I could be truly served by her, my "disability" the reasoning for being babied and cared for. Were I to choose, I could practically make her into my maid. I am sure that is the dream of a lot of guys, too. Not the shrunk part, but having a woman waiting on them, like that.
I lay in bed, thinking on this. I am naked and wrapped up in Megan's arms. She holds me, laying on top of her chest and stomach, as she sleeps. Like a mother protecting her child, she envelops me in her arms every night, keeping me close to her. She has always done this, but it is much stronger since I got shorter. I can feel her breasts pushing against my back, every time she takes a breath. I can feel her heartbeat beneath me, and as I look back at her smiling, sleeping face, I cannot help but smile, myself. Those things about taking care of me. She really would do that.
I sigh as I look to the ceiling and think to myself. As nice as it would be to be pampered, I could never let Megan do that. I know she wants to, and I really appreciate that. She loves me so much to be willing to do that for me. I just can't become like a baby, always being cared for. Even though she towers over me, Megan is still my girlfriend, and I am still her boyfriend. I am a man. A man who has to be able to take care of himself, and not rely on her for absolutely everything. If I couldn't take care of myself, I would wear her out in no time at all.
That isn't a factor here. I cannot imagine living a life like that. It would be so boring to sit around and not do anything. Other than the problems I am having with being so short. Being this small is taxing on me. Everything feels stronger, especially Megan. Before, I could wrap my arms around her and lift her into the air to get a good giggle. Or, I could meet her at the door when she got off work and carry her up to bed like a princess. I can't do that anymore. It is her who can pick me up with ease. I feel so weak in this state. So helpless.
I suppose I should consider myself lucky. This disease isn't exactly well-known, but I did some research on it after what happened. I was in the hospital for awhile, and I got curious. Cases like mine happen fairly often among the illness. There were other cases where the patient wasn't so lucky. In Asia, there was a case where a woman had become only inches in height. Apparently, it happened overnight, and her husband rolled on top of her. All that was left was a tiny, bloody stain on his back.
Those things make me shiver. What would life be like if I were inches tall? I think Megan looks big right now. I cannot even begin to imagine what she would look like were I only a few inches in height. I shake my head and try to get those thoughts out of my head. I am lucky. I am still 3 feet tall. I am lucky. So why doesn't it feel that way? Why do I still feel so helpless and weak when I am around anyone? It feels like everyone is so big and above me. Like they can do what they want, because they're bigger than me.
Maybe I should stop thinking so much. I don't know why I worry about what everyone else thinks of my condition. The only people I am ever around a lot, other than my family, are Janet and Megan. I don't think their opinion of me will change, no matter what size I am. If I were six feet, three feet, or three inches, I am sure they would never stop viewing me as a friend and, in Megan's case, a lover. I sigh as I think more on this, realizing that I worry myself over something that should be nothing at all.
As I stare and get a frown on my face, thinking on all of this, I feel movement from behind me. "Honey, are you okay?" Megan's voice is nothing less than powerful to me. It shines with the compassion of a protective mother, but with the love of a goddess. My head turns to look up at her, as we lay together. I nod my head towards her, hoping I would be able to convince me that nothing is wrong. It doesn't usually work, but I need not stress her too much.
"Yes, Megan. I'm fine. I am just thinking about everything that has been going on. What we have done, how short I have become. What we can do. You know how my mind wanders at night." Not a single second goes by from the moment I end my statement to feeling her hands and arms moving. She puts her hands at my sides and sits me and herself up. I sit on her lap, my eyes level with her. Her face comes forward and my lips are enveloped by hers.
Upon ending her loving kiss, she shakes her head at me. "Don't stress yourself out so much, Trent. Now I can see what is down inside you past that bravado you showed me earlier. I know you want to be able to do things on your own. But, I also can tell how much this is affecting you. Being so short has to be hard on you, sweetie. You used to be six feet tall. I used to be eye level with you. But don't worry, okay? We are going to make this work. If you were the size of my finger, we would find a way to make it work."
Megan's words are powerful, yet wise. She needs me, just as much as I need her. I lean to give her a quick kiss and respond to her little speech. "Thank you, Megan. Thank you." She gives me that adorable smile she always does. Laying herself back down, she cuddles me up against her chest again, letting me use her bosom like a pillow. We spoke for a few more minutes, before both managing to fall asleep. If there is one person that can help me to not stress, it is her.
Giantess World
The Illness by L2K7