Debra heard her alarm go off, and she groaned. She forced
herself to stay on a regular schedule, even on her days off. She opened her
eyes, seeing nothing as she had for years. She fumbled on her nightstand for
her sunglasses, more for the benefit of everyone else than for her, and slipped
them on.
The accident years ago had taken her sight, but she’d made
the decision to keep on living, it was all one could do really. As she moved
through her house she felt a certain ease, everything here was set exactly
where she wanted it, it was one of the few places she could almost feel normal.
No bumping into things or tapping with her cane, in her mind’s eye could almost
see the furniture and materials around her.
Well, there was one thing that wasn’t always where
she’d left it, but it was something that she enjoyed finding. She smiled,
listening keenly for the small footsteps.
“You’re in this room,” she said calmly. She scrunched her
toes against the carpet, knowing that wherever he was, he’d probably be looking
at them. She sniffed slightly, she very deliberately bathed him in a very
strong-smelling body wash, and her nose twitched as the faintest hint of
vanilla reached it.
He’s close then, she thought, stepping casually
through the living room and pretending she wasn’t looking, probably within a
few feet… She kept moving through the kitchen, that tiny waft of vanilla
seeming to follow her. Oh, he’s following me… or leading? She tried not
to give away her calculation as she turned on her coffee machine. The smell
would cover up the target of her pursuit, but once he was on the kitchen tile
the game was all but over anyway.
Her smile became a full grin as she heard the soft pitter
patter of his feet on the tiled floor. She kept facing bubbling coffee machine
a moment, letting him think she hadn’t noticed him.
She heard a stifled giggle, oh, that was a mistake, she
thought with a smirk. She twirled around and brought her bare foot down right
on the spot where she’d heard the laugh from. There was a cry of surprise, and
her toes scrunched around the squirming form of the tiny man.
“Okay!” Thomas shouted, “you win!”
Debra lifted her foot off the ground, the tiny man squirming
as her toes gripped him. Her hand reached down for him next, and her slender
fingers gripped his entire body between her thumb and forefinger. She brought
him up to her face, more for his benefit than hers, she couldn’t see him
anyway, but she could feel the pinpoints of his legs as he stood up in her
palm. The vanilla scent on him was slightly marred by the slightly tangy odor
of her feet, but that was okay… Thomas getting dirty just meant an excuse to
scrub him down later.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” he asked, speaking as
loudly as he could without shouting.
“We need a few things from the store,” Debra said, “and
there’s a concert in the park this evening, what do you think?”
“I’m in!” he shouted.
She smirked, gently bringing him up to her ear. He was able
to ride semi-comfortably behind it, shielded by her hair. More importantly, he
could speak to her without shouting, largely unheard or unseen by anyone who
didn’t know to look for him.
At one-inch-tall Thomas was a particularly small tiny, even
most of his peers towered over him like giants at anywhere from five to six
inches. In the aftermath of the shrinking plague those affected had segregated
themselves off from “larger society,” and lived in specialized colonies,
everything and everyone there being relatively close in size. For Thomas
though, only coming up to the knees of even the smallest other tinies, it
hadn’t offered a real sanctuary at all.
Left with the option of being a charity case and a curiosity
even in the small world, Thomas had looked abroad for any kind of opportunity
he could find. That was when he’d heard about seeing-eye tinies, as companions
for the blind and visually impaired even people a few inches tall, or in
Thomas’s case one, could find dignified work and value to society.
Most of those who took the job were, like Thomas, looking to
stay in regular-sized society for one reason or another. Tinies weren’t
particularly common around here, especially not extremely small ones like
Thomas, and with his size it made speaking to full sized people difficult, even
six inch tinies usually had to raise their voices to be heard.
Debra on the other hand, had such keen hearing that she
could almost always hear him. She could even track him on some surfaces, and it
had been nice to be acknowledged in a world that now loomed over him. The two
lived lives centered around each other from the time of his assignment, and it
wasn’t a surprise that they’d quickly found feelings for each other.
The trip to the grocery store was easy and uneventful,
“Stop,” Thomas said, peering out at the crosswalk sign, “and… walk sign’s on.”
As she pushed her shopping cart through the aisles, she was
reminded of one of the advantages that a tiny had over the traditional seeing
eye dog.
“There’s a new flavor of that cola you like,” he said,
eyeing the promotional display. She stopped, intrigued, “chili lime?” he explained,
“ugh, there’s a little cartoon of a lime-guy on fire.”
“A lime guy?” she asked, her mouth quirking slightly, “like…
what’s he look like?”
“A lime, with arms, legs, and a sort of face, he’s got a
chain and a beanie cap, I think he’s supposed to be a rapper,” Thomas
explained, “he says, this cola is hot, and hot is written in flaming letters.”
“Hmm…” she mused. She personally loved spicy things, but in
a cola? “Where is it?” she asked, a smile on her face.
“About five feet to your left,” Thomas sighed, “get that
stuff if you want Debra, but keep me away from your mouth after you drink it.”
“Aw, don’t like spicy stuff?” She cooed, placing the drinks
in her cart.
“I don’t mind eating it,” he laughed, “but having it coat
your whole body is… it’s not a fun experience.”
They went through the rest of the store, Thomas knew her
tastes well, and he could guide her not just to the items she wanted, but he
would give her advice on what variants were available, and what was on sale. He
was her private little voice, whispering in her ear and helping guide her
through the store.
“Get the coconut shampoo,” he said, “two bottles over.”
She paused, giggling, “I really prefer the strawberry.”
“You don’t ride in your hair for hours every day,” he said,
stroking one of the strands hanging around him, “I think that, in exchange for
my services, I should get to pick what my workplace smells like.”
She shrugged, and tapped two bottles over to grab the
coconut shampoo. If her tiny man wanted a more tropical fragrance, it was a
small thing. She always picked his soap after all, always the strongest scents
she could find to make his tiny form easily trackable, and she would strip him
down and wash him with those in the sink sometimes up to three times a day,
keeping the smell fresh and lingering.
Later, as they were entering the apartment, he called for
her to stop, “There’s a notice on the door,” he said, “it says… maintenance
will be by next week to change the air conditioning filter.”
“Good to know,” she said, turning the key as they walked
inside. Having a seeing-eye tiny was certainly a luxury, she wondered for the
millionth time how she’d ever functioned without Thomas.
After putting her groceries away, she lifted Thomas out from
his perch behind her ear and placed him down on her coffee table. She took her
phone out of her pocket, casually using voice activated searches to check her
favorite recipe blogs. She placed her phone down on the table and let Thomas
peruse them quickly.
“Okay, Charlotte’s Kitchen has nothing, Cooking with Tom is
still on that Indian food kick, and Elsie’s Recipe World has…” His voice picked
up a little, “a cherry brandy chocolate cake?”
“Hm…” Debra thought, “do we really need more sweets?” She
jokingly reached down a finger the size of his torso and poked his belly.
“How would you know what shape I’m in?” Thomas said
defensively, “for all you know, I have a six pack!”
“You don’t,” she giggled, pushing him over completely and
letting her finger roll over his body, “you’re actually getting just a little
chunky! Too many cookie crumbs, I think.”
She paused, letting the pad of her finger linger on his
face. He was so small that it took a lot of time touching him to get a real
idea of what his face looked like. She imagined him as somewhat boyishly
handsome, and while she’d never seen them, she pictured him with kind eyes.
She paused, suddenly realizing something, “Thomas,” she
asked, “what color are your eyes? It seems strange, to know you this long and
not know that…”
“They’re green,” he shouted, fighting the fingertip
wrestling him against the wood.
“Green,” she mused, updating her mental image of him, “I
like it!”
“T-That’s great!” he shouted, fighting against the single
digit as she continued to touch him, “can you let me up now?”
“Hmm…” she thought, “what time is it?”
“Two thirty,” Thomas grunted, still struggling against her
finger.
“I think you’re due for your next washing,” she giggled,
pinching him up and carrying him to the bathroom.
“Oh come on,” he muttered, “already?”
“We’re going to the concert tonight,” she said sweetly, “I
want a fresh scent on you every time we go out, you know if we get separated
it’s going to make finding you much easier.”
“All right,” he muttered. She set him on the edge of the
sink, and he began stripping his clothing off. At his size, clothing was hard
to come by, even normal tiny-tailored items wouldn’t fit him, and he carefully
put them in a small hamper next to the faucet.
“You ever rethink just going without clothes?” she giggled.
She knew the answer was a hard no, but it was something she liked to tease him
about. “I mean, it’s not like you need to worry about me seeing you naked…”
“What about everyone else?” he laughed, stepping into her
palm, “and besides, you’d still find plenty of ways to perve on me.”
“I grow my hair nice and long so you can hide in it while we’re
out,” she said sweetly, “most people don’t even know you’re up there by my ear,
let alone what you’re wearing.”
She paused a moment, trying to decide which soap she would
use on him this time. She had the bottle order memorized, and her hand lingered
on the second to last one in the row. Lemongrass, she decided, squirting a few
globs onto the tip of her finger. She briefly ran him under the warm water,
then, just like before, her finger came down, easily pinning him to her palm as
she rolled the scented suds over his tiny body.
This was how she got her best feel for what he looked like,
and she savored these “bathtimes,” casually scrubbing down every inch of him
with just the tip of her finger. She explored every part of him, down his back,
his little butt, his feet… she even liked to trace up under his armpits,
enjoying the slight giggle as she scrubbed him powerfully.
For Thomas, these regular washings were a reminder of how
much control he’d lost, and at the same time reinforced how much he loved and
trusted Debra. With just the tip of her finger she could force him down,
manipulate his whole body. The powerful padded tip wouldn’t even notice his
feeble resistance if he tried, and being forcibly coated in Debra’s scents of
choice was another layer of lingering influence his giant girlfriend would
exert over him, one that would fill his nostrils and remind him of her the
entire day.
“Scent marking” was a popular technique that visually
impaired individuals would use with their seeing-eye tinies. The idea was that
it would be easier for someone to locate and track a tiny without the use of
sight if they were coated in powerful odors. Dipping the tiny in question in a
cologne or perfume regularly was one way to go about it, and while Debra did
keep a bottle of Calvin Klein in her purse for emergencies, she much preferred
to simply scrub him down with heavily scented soaps and body washes as often as
possible, usually at least twice a day.
Debra’s choices were often quite girly, and the Lemongrass
today was a nice break from vanilla and strawberry swirl. Sometimes he wondered
if she deliberately chose the scents she knew would be the most embarrassing for
him, taking joy in covering him in scents that sounded like pop song titles,
“Champagne Kisses,” “Night with the Girls,” and “Fruit Smoothie Afternoon,”
being some of the more notable offenders. Compared to those, Lemongrass was
downright manly.
Debra’s finger traced down his stomach, giggling a little as
she spread the soap down. The tip made contact with his waiting erection, and
she did a mock gasp as she let the pad of her finger circle over it, causing
her tiny captive to squirm slightly.
“Oh, looky here!” she cooed, picking up speed slightly,
“hold on Thomas, I need to get a good feel for this part.” She bit her lip, an
expression of mock focus coming over her. “Oh yes, it’s very big… very hard, oh
my, it’s a nice one, I need to feel it a little more…”
“You’ve been t-trying to get a feel for it for years now!”
Thomas said, a mix of pleasured grunts interrupting his words.
“Don’t worry,” she said mockingly, “I’m sure I’ll have a
good mental picture of it any time now!”
She kept going, the powerful fingertip was slick with soap
as the movement quickly brought the struggling tiny man to orgasm. He screamed
in pleasure, and she just giggled as she kept working at him, rubbing his seed
away into the lemongrass sea just as quickly as it came out.
She had a good mental image of his whole body of course,
cock included, but she loved using washing time as an excuse to play with it.
It was one of the few ways she could pleasure him directly at such a tiny size,
and she felt like adding in the occasional “release” helped justify the regular
scrubdowns with scents that most men, of any size, wouldn’t be caught dead
using.
“There we go,” she laughed, rinsing him off with warm tap
water. She brought a small tissue down and dabbed him dry, the new smell of the
lemongrass quickly filling her nose as she ran his tiny body under her
nostrils. “Now you’ll never escape,” she teased, “I’ll just sniff you out!”
“I’ll hide in one of your shoes!” he retorted, “even the
nicest soaps in the world won’t be enough to let you smell me there!”
“Hmm… a good idea until the evil blind woman who keeps you
as a seeing-eye slave puts on her shoes to go looking for you.”
“Blast, foiled again,” he said with a chuckle, “I’ll have to
bring my escape plan back to the drawing board.”
The concert she wanted to attend was a free affair hosted by
the city, the band itself was just suburban dads doing classic rock covers, but
it was an excuse to get out of the house. She smelled the festival food on the
wind, and felt her stomach growl as her tiny assistant helped guide her there.
“And, cross,” he said, guiding her across the street, “Okay,
it looks like food trucks are to your left, a few hundred feet.”
“Anything stand out?” she asked.
“There’s a nacho stand, and that fancy burger place you like
has a truck,” he said.
“Burgers!” she said excitedly, “guide me in!”
He chuckled from his perch up behind her ear and began
relaying directions on the most effective way to reach the truck. She heard the
chatter of the crowds around them, and smiled hearing the excited shouting as
families ran and played. It was nice being out, and as the line moved and she
reached the order window, she thought over her tiny passenger. He usually just
ate bits of whatever she was having, but she still liked to get him his own
food sometimes, it always made him so happy…
“So, about those nachos,” she said casually, “if I get some,
do you PROMISE not to jump into the cheese again?”
“It’s like a hot tub, but with cheese!” he insisted.
“You’ll get filthy,” she giggled.
“Then you’ll suck it all off me, and then you have an excuse
to “re-scent” me as soon as we get home!”
She smiled wider, those were both good points, “You’ll get
my hair all sticky after…” she said, a smile on her face.
“Please Deb!” he begged, using the pet name he knew would
weaken her resolve, “a lot of food has a weird different texture after you
shrink, nachos still taste the same, you break off a little bit of the chip,
dip it, and you wouldn’t even know you’re tiny!”
“I know,” she sighed, “okay, how many people are in the
line? Do we have time to get some before the music starts?”
“There are only three people in it
now, about ten steps to your right!”
She smirked as he guided her into
the next line. She could hear his breathing pick up as they got closer, and
just the teeny tiniest little growl of his stomach as the smell of the
processed cheese wafted over them. The vendor quickly finished their order,
giving her a carrying tray so she could balance both the nachos and her
hamburger.
“Okay,” Thomas said, “just move the
burger over to the left a little more and… yeah, you should be good to carry it
now.”
“All right,” she said, hefting up
the tray. It felt balanced enough, her tiny pair of eyes had served her well.
“Now, where’s the best place to sit?”
“Okay, go to your left about fifty
feet, there’s a paved path to follow and it leads to the far side of the
theater, there’s a big section of empty seats.”
“I want to sit on the grass,” she
said.
“In that case go to the path, and
when we get close to the stadium seating, I’ll tell you and guide you to a nice
grassy hill overlooking it, sound good?”
“Sounds great,” she said with a
smile. She felt his tiny body grip her ear as she began to move, and he felt
her soft hair sway around him like curtains as he gave her directions. It
didn’t take her long to reach it, and she sighed contentedly as she sat down,
setting the tray next to her.
Idly she reached up to her ear, her
fingers pinching Thomas’s small form and lowering it down to the tray so that
he could reach the titanic nachos.
“Are you able to climb up to them,
or do you need me to put you in the tray?”
“I’ve got it,” he said, hefting
himself up with a grunt. He smiled as he saw the jagged field of chips larger
than his whole body, and a lake of cheese waiting, “besides, if someone is to
be believed I need the exercise.”
“Suit yourself,” she said with a
smile.
She started eating her own meal as
the concert began. The band was decent, and the crowd was going wild as the top
hits of years past were played one after the other. Debra found herself
cheering along with a crowd she couldn’t see. It was getting dark, she knew,
the temperature was starting to drop, and the crowd was steadily growing subdued
as the final songs of the evening were played.
“Uh, Debra,” an embarrassed Thomas
called in between songs.
“Yes?” she said, “are you ready to
go back in my hair?”
“I kind of… got in the cheese,” he
admitted.
She stifled a giggle, “Oh no!” she
said in a playful voice, “well you just climb into my hand and-“
“I’m stuck in it actually,”
he said with a sigh, “I got in at the start of that last song, and I just kind
of sat in it, and now the cheese is all solid around me. I don’t think I can
get out.” She started laughing, mentally picturing the tiny man stuck in the
rubberized nacho cheese. It took her a few minutes, and no doubt people around
her were wondering why a woman, seemingly sitting alone, was suddenly laughing
like she was mad.
“Okay,” she wheezed, “hold still.”
Her hand drifted down to the tray.
Her fingers grazed over the chips, obviously Thomas hadn’t really touched them,
he’d probably just torn some pieces off of one, tiny morsels that one wouldn’t
even notice unless they looked closely. She selected one of the chips, a more
intact one by the feel of it, and tapped it along the edge of the plastic tray.
She felt the yield of the gooey cheese, and with a smile scooped it through the
yellow goop as deep as she could.
“Whoa!” Thomas shouted as he was lifted
up. He struggled feebly, he was still stuck in the cheese as the chip lifted
towards her mouth. He braced himself as the enormous cavern opened up, and the
mammoth pink tongue waited eagerly for him as he passed her lips, the air
growing suddenly warm and humid.
Debra slowly bit down, savoring the
crisp crunch of the chip and the savory flavor of the nacho cheese. She chewed
slowly, deliberately, making sure there would be no “accidents” as her tongue
searched out her prize. Tiny and light though he was, Thomas’s body was
surprisingly hard when pressed, and a moment later something almost like a
pebble was caught by her molars.
For Thomas it was like being
churned in a massive blob of wet blankets, the chewed mass of the chip and the
liquid cheese flowing around him with her movements, leaving him powerless to
control his motion. When the teeth finally had him, he felt the familiar harsh
suction, pulling all the food away from him as her tongue darted for him like a
hungry viper. He was scooped up, plopped up on it, and then carried out into
the late evening glow of the park air once more. Her fingers came down to pinch
him up, running over his spit and cheese-soaked body as she felt him to
determine how filthy he’d gotten.
“I knew it,” she sighed with a
smile, “you’ve got another scrubdown coming as soon as we get home, in fact you’re
probably going to get my hair gross riding home in it… might as well shower
together I guess.”
“If that’s the penance for swimming
in a pool of nacho cheese, it’s worth it,” he said with a smile.
“Glad you think so, now I want to
hear the finale,” she giggled and lowered him towards her exposed cleavage. She
brought him close, almost to the point of contact, before dropping him in, and
her finger swooped down on his struggling form to bury him deep between her pillowy
breasts, silencing any further protests.
She hummed along with the opening
chords of the song the band began on the stage, and a moment later she joined
in with the crowd as they repeated the iconic opening chorus. Deep in her
shirt, her tiny captive heard it too, though it was muffled by her warm skin, sweaty
from the muggy summer evening.
Life is good, she thought
happily, listening to the cheers of the crowd in the theater below.