Sammi was deposited into the dollhouse-birdcage she shared with Lucy and Ryan, and immediately sought out her two friends. She had a raging question in the back of her mind.

"Lucy!" the two-inch blonde called. "I'm home!"

"Ha, ha," Lucy laughed sarcastically, climbing down from the second level of their home within Naomi's bedroom. "Never heard that one before."

"It's the only joke I have," Ryan said defensively, climbing up the miniature spiral staircase built into the leg of the table their cage rested on.

"There's something I have to know," Sammi said quietly, craning her neck up at her six-inch roommates, who were still tall enough that she looked up at their crotches.

"Shoot," Lucy said, and she and Ryan took a seat so their little friend would no longer be looking up at them.

"So, you guys know how I shrank," Sammi began.

"No, I don't, actually," Ryan interjected, but Lucy smacked him on the back of the head and motioned for Sammi to continue. 

"But I don't know your stories," Sammi finished her sentence. "Why are you guys this small, and why are you so cool with it?"

Lucy smiled softly. "This is a long story, so I guess we should start at the beginning, around 17 years ago. It was Naomi's 13th birthday . . ."

\17 Years Ago//////

Lucy Young gulped quietly. The fourteen-year-old brunette might not have developed physically as quickly as her best friend (seriously, what 13-year-old is a C cup), but she was definitely mentally more mature, and had known for a little over a month that what she felt for Naomi Cruz went beyond friendship. She hadn't intended to tell her that, though.

And yet, when the ever-so-trusting ravenette had asked her parents to invite Lucy in in her stead as she was in the shower, the slightly older girl poked through her friend's stuff, looking for some indication that Naomi had at least started developing sexual attraction, period.

No such luck; Naomi was, mentally at least, still firmly in the realm of childhood, with toys strewn about haphazardly, and a dollhouse set up with such delicate care you could tell the girl playing with them fully believed they were people. It was at that point that Lucy began flipping through Naomi's sketchbook (she was actually a pretty good artist), and the girl herself returned.

"You're looking through my drawings, Lucy?" Naomi asked, her tone one of confusion, mixed with pride in her artwork (a hobby she'd sadly drop in high school, mostly due to a rather vicious rant from her father that she would never be a famous artist, crushing her dream entirely).

"Y-yeah," Lucy stuttered, disappointed. Naomi was just too much of a kid to return her feelings.

It was then that Lucy got an idea- she'd figure out if she had a shot by playing with the girl and making "idle" chatter. It'd be foolproof. 

And, surely enough, Lucy found out that while Naomi had yet to experience sexual desire for herself, was surprisingly knowledgeable about sexuality, and was open-minded and good-hearted to a fault. As honest as Lucy had been raised to be, she had a stray devious thought of guilt-tripping Naomi into dating her.

(((Now)))

"Oh, really?" Naomi smirked, having been listening in on Lucy's story for the past several minutes. "You're saying that even if I wasn't attracted to you, you would've tried to find a way?"

Lucy went red, and backpedaled- she had never intended for Naomi to hear how close she had come to being Naomi's first manipulative girlfriend. "I- I can explain-"

"That's adorable!" Naomi squealed, and the entire dollhouse watched as Naomi's features scrunched in excitement, and her joy had her massive assets bouncing. 

Lucy let out a sigh of relief, and continued.

\17 Years Ago//////

Eventually, the conversation went somewhere interesting. 

"It's kinda sad that I can't BE a doll," Naomi sighed.

"Why?" Lucy asked, intrigued. 

Naomi looked at Lucy, with a powerful look in her chocolate colored eyes that made the budding bisexual squirm internally. "Think about it- dolls never have to try hard to do anything! They never have to get up early or do homework, and all they have to do is sit around and look pretty! They just have to make whoever owns them happy!"

"I wish I could be your doll," Lucy blurted, covering her traitorous mouth with her hands.

"What?!" Naomi asked, her voice a mess of emotions: confusion, excitement, tenderness. She put a hand on Lucy's shoulder to ask her to clarify what she had meant.

Then Lucy's world went bright.

Suddenly, she was somewhere alien. It was like she was in a field of scratchy cotton, and there was a huge, purple-and-yellow house dominating her vision. But what was casting that shadow? 

Lucy followed the shadow's source, across the white ground, up to Naomi's titanic form, a heart-wrenching expression on her face. She was crying, her face a mess of fear and guilt.

"I'm sorry!" Naomi whispered, distraught. "I don't know how I did it, I'm sorry for not warning you, I'm sorry for being an Unbound . . . and I'm sorry for what I'm about to do," she finished quietly. 

The tiny teenager almost questioned what Naomi meant, but her friend's now-massive, very soft hand picked her up gently, and placed her inside the dollhouse before shutting it, taking away most of the light. "No! PLEASE! Let me out! Naomi, I'm scared!" Lucy shook with her fear- she had a paralyzing phobia of the dark.

With a quick motion, the plastic clicked back open, and Lucy found herself clutched tightly to her raven-haired friend's soft breast. "I can't do it!" Naomi cried. "I can't be mean to you like that, please forgive me, Lucy . . . I just don't wanna die!" 

Lucy froze, realization tracking it's way into her mind. To do this, Naomi had to be an Unbound, and given that there had been a very recent news story about an Unbound girl no older than 8 being brutally beaten to death . . . Naomi had every right to be scared. Lucy comforted her now-gigantic friend. "I'd . . . I'd never tell, Naomi. Don't cry. Shh. Everything is going to be alright. I got my wish now, on your birthday."

Naomi looked down at her friend in confusion, tears dripping from her eyes. "Wh-what? Your . . . wish?"

Lucy nodded, accepting the role fate had given her. "I'm your doll now, Naomi. Your pet. Keep me safe, keep me fed, keep me warm, and I'll look pretty and make you happy. I did ask to be a doll, remember?" She hugged Naomi's soft breast as best she could, trying to comfort her friend, her crush. Her new owner.

A shiver went down Lucy's spine at the thought.

Naomi's bright smile appeared, and she hugged Lucy even closer. "You'll be my favorite doll," she said, her voice set and determined. "I'll never put you away in the toybox, you sleep with me. I'll take good care of you, Lucy. I promise."

Lucy blushed like crazy.

(((Now)))

"And I did," Naomi said proudly. "Even when my parents punished me and sent me to bed without dinner, I would find something for Lucy to eat. She's my favorite little pet, isn't that right?" Naomi's long finger extended through the bars of the cage, stroking Lucy's spine and making the six-inchbrunette purr in pleasure.

Lucy nodded, her face split by a huge, goofy smile. All these years later, Naomi could still make her blush.