Fortune reversal

Harshada woke up at the sound of her alarm clock, yawning and stretching. The petite girl, reaching 1m61 (5f3) hated morning, especially on week days. Going to school was always terrible. With her heavy frame and dark skin, the little Indian girl was the subject of much bullying in her Boston college… well, she had been, she corrected herself. Since two weeks, she had suitors from all around the world asking for a chance to be with her.

The slightly obese girl didn’t know who to thanks for that. Ten years ago, the first outbreak of the Resizing Pandemic had broke out in Africa, and then had spread at an alarming rate to the rest of the world. At that time, one in ten people ended affected, losing almost all their size to reach 3 cm (1 inch) max… Then new strains of the virus had come, stronger and more impressive, leaving their victims at 5 millimetres tall (0,2 inch) and only one in ten peoples was immune to it. 

What was terrifying with this virus was that its effects were immediate, and it spread to all living humans near the first victims. In minutes, hundreds of normal peoples could be reduced to bug-sized individuals, commonly nicknamed “crushman” for the sound they made when trotted upon. For a decade, Harshada had been terrified to be turned into one of them and made into a thing, a toy or decoration or a pet or… whatever humans could turn crushmen into.

Thankfully, she had been diagnosed as a Complete Immune three weeks ago. When the results of her test were made public, one week after she had received them herself, at the onset of the most powerful outbreak of the Pandemic ever, it had enraged Mary. The tall and lean brunette, with her white as fair as snow and her piercing icy blue eyes, that everyone nicknamed Snow White, had always been Harshada’s biggest bully.

Snow White had spent the last three years mocking the petite and curvy Indian, telling her how she would crush her, eat her alive or insert her in her asshole once she would have turned into a crushwoman. It had terribly pained Harshada, because the two of them had been childhood friends, and things had changed only in the last year of High School, when Mary had understood how beautiful she was. To fit among the arrogant assholes which comprised the vast majority of the superior clique, she took to harassing her former friend quite enthusiastically.

Harshada remembered vividly how Snow White had barged in the restroom, forcing the Indian woman to follow her; how she had bellowed at her, told her that it changed nothing, that being a Complete Immune was nothing to be proud off, because she too, would be found C.I. and that their lives would continue the same.

Then, Mary had froze and shrank before Harshada stupefied eyes. The once tall brunette had ended at 5mm, the smallest size possible for a crushperson. The Indian girl had hesitated only for an instant, before seizing the white girl, screaming incoherently (from the few she could heard) in her palm and she had rushed to the Principal. Once there, she had followed the usual instruction and obtained complete possession of Crushwoman Mary Adeline Jefferson.

The rest had been quite she had wanted to do anyway. She really wanted once of those piercing in the tongue, she knew it would make her look cooler and edgier, especially with the kohl she liked to wear. Making sure that Snow White had been correctly prepared to fit there was almost nothing, money wise.

Ten years ago, such luxury was incredibly hard to pay for, but technology had progressed leap and bounds and crushmen could now be turned into living jewellery with such ease that it was almost free. Harshada had only waited one hour, while the staff prepared Mary, injecting her with painkiller as they inserted her legs knee deep into the molten gold of her owner’s removable piercing.

The Indian college student had hesitated, afraid that she could gulp down her crushwoman without noticing if the piercing came undone, but the vendor had assured her that it wouldn’t happen, and that anyway, assurance to ensure replacement of the crush’ would only cost her ten more dollars, so Harshada had accepted.

Since then, she had had three piercing done; her tongue, her nose and, the one she liked the most, her clitoris. It had hurt like hell, it even still stung, but by all the Gods did Mary felt great, rubbing against it. It made Harshada feel so powerful, that ability to simply clasp her former friend to those very private parts of her body, whenever she wanted. Of course, she had a lot of games with her crushy, but nothing came close to the power-trip which accompanied an act as casual as pushing her tongue against her palate and hear the minuscule squeals of her jewellery.

Still, one of her favourite games consisted in attaching Mary’s pin to a long metallic chain and trails it along her curvy body. Seeing the minuscule white girl get lost in her belly flops or between her enormous and flabby tits, clawing desperately at this dark skin she had mocked so much for the past years, before putting her back in her mouth to savour her newly acquired “natural taste” as she joked about, was awesome.

Even so, she envied those who had a Type 1 crushman, those could reach up to 25cm (10 inches) and Harshada had heard that they made for fantastical sextoys, often willing to please their masters in the hope of achieving some form of god-like roleplay with other curshmen, especially Type 6 specimens like Mary.

But so far, Harshada was quite happy with just her and Mary. Truth been told, she was bisexual and had fantasized for a long time about a threesome between her, Mary and a third, indefinite, person. In her fantasies, she was Type 1, Mary was normal and the other was Type 5. Now, the roles would clearly be different but it didn’t change her arousal when she put Snow White against her engorged and overgrown clit.

“Plays with it until I remove your from it or else…” she usually threatened and it was sufficient to sent Snow White into a servile frenzy, pleasuring her for hours on end.

Truth been told, she had no idea what she could do to the crushwoman which wouldn’t render her useless if she didn’t do her job, but the little thing clearly hadn’t thought of that and Harshada was taking all the precautions in the world to be sure that it didn’t change. Her Sunday, when Mary had massaged her clit for five hours straight was too good to risk it.

Fully awake now, the Indian girl opened her phone to browse at Instagram. Like always, she was assaulted by pictures of abused crushies. One girl had four used directly as piercing on her nipples and their little faces were contorting in agony. It made Harshada a little uneasy, how hot this picture made her and she quickly closed the app. She needed to prepare for school anyway.

Moving her nose piercing, she smiled as she felt Mary’s feeble attempts at pushing her index and thumb away. Even two weeks after being shrunk, she still put up a fight. She had read a lot of blog telling that crushies had to quickly learn their place, but Harshada actually liked Mary like that. Sometimes, the little think would bit her colossal owner and it would usually end badly for the crushwoman, and yet she kept going at it, it was awesome.

In a way, Harshada felt that they had become friends once more, except that instead dof pretending to be responsible adults dealing with their everyday lives as they did when they were in kindergarten, they were playing the Goddess and the Slave… except that it wasn’t really a roleplay, thought the Indian girl, before getting ride of the thought. She was quite certain that Mary was more than happy to eat her bogeys, since she herself was vegan. In a way, she was helping her former friend purge her bad karma. In the next life, they would probably both be reincarnated in higher spheres…

Still, Harshada hoped that Mary would remain hers to use and abuse, no matter what…