The shrunken man came in an unassuming metal box, but she could tell from the motion inside that he was already awake. They had said that he would have no idea where he was or what had happened to him, so she would have the privilege of teaching him that he belonged to her now. He would probably try to escape or to rebel, but she had so much control over him that it wouldn’t matter.

Already she knew exactly where he was and what he was doing, even with the box closed. A passive sensation that was the same as knowing where her limbs were, and one that she could forget about just as easily. He was crawling around, unable to keep his feet in the unpredictable motion of the box, looking around in the absolute darkness, though still able to see as if there was a dim light. The fact that that was irregular probably didn’t occur to him, but the process that had shrunk him had given him a few gifts, and given her a few powers.

The vision even without light was given so that he would see what was happening to him at all times. Even better, his vitals were tied to hers, so she could do literally anything to him and he would not suffer injury. He was functionally immortal, and she had had his pain threshold maximized; she was looking for a toy to humiliate, not to torture.

To accomplish that, she had complete control over his movement and size both. She could change his size merely by thinking about it, from microscopic to his full, natural height. She could move his limbs as if they were her own, or even completely lock out his movement if she wanted. The greatest part, though, was that she could share his senses, or give him her own. Effectively, she could trade bodies with him, and still keep full control over both.

She refrained from doing that, though. At least for now. She wanted his first realization of his status to be when she opened the box. They said that she could take him back to get his memory wiped, to relive his first discovery of being tiny as many times as she liked, but there was something special about the very first time. She would eventually wipe him, though. She wanted him to keep the fierce energy of denial and resistance, before finally resigning himself to his fate.

It hadn’t been cheap, nor was it strictly legal. It was another person, after all, and, even with her income, she had been saving for a long time to afford this. And she could only imagine the consequences if the world realized that Emma Watson had basically bought a sex slave. 

Aaron felt his container stop moving, and he finally was able to climb to his feet. He had no idea where he was and no memory of how he had gotten here. His last memory was of falling asleep in his own bed, and he had woken up bare naked to the jostling of the box. The metal under him was warm and the air was stale. He couldn’t see much, but he could tell that something was off. The grain of the metal was too big, the motion of the box too jerky and sudden. Something seemed unnatural and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

He stood up and looked down at his body, wondering where his clothes went. Maybe it was the low light, but it felt like he looked better than he was used to; less fat, clearer muscle definition, the farmer’s tan lines were gone, and all of his body hair had been shaven. Maybe it was the lack of hair, but it seemed like his dick was even bigger, too. He grabbed it and found that it definitely did feel bigger in his hand.

What the hell had happened to him? Panic started to grow, and was immediately replaced with fear as the top of the box swept open, flooding the room with light and explaining instantly what had happened to him.

The face that stared down at him from above was gigantic. Each of the eyes were larger than his head, the mouth big enough to swallow him whole. It was a woman, and either he was tiny or she was gigantic. He didn’t recognize her at first, but as the two of them stared at each other, Aaron in fear and the woman in satisfaction, it clicked into place.

The wispy, auburn hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Intense, brown eyes with a slightly hungry look to them, and lightly freckled skin. High cheekbones, full lips drawn up in a satisfied smirk, and a slightly pointed jaw. The woman was Emma Watson.

The shock of it sent Aaron straight back down to his ass. He was tiny, probably no more than four inches tall, sitting in a box with fucking Emma Watson staring down at him like a piece of food. She saw the stunned look on his face and her grin grew a bit. 

“Hello, there,” she said, her British accent coming through even those two words. Her expression shifted to sympathy, looking down at him like a dog she had accidentally stepped on. “Oh, come on, stand up.”

Maybe it was the shock, but Aaron felt himself rise, unbidden, to his feet. He had not moved himself, at least not willingly. Had his limbs moved on their own or had he just been too overwhelmed by the impossibility of the situation?

“There we go, that’s better,” she said, her face brightening. “I’m Emma, your new mistress. I own you now, so you do what I want, you understand?”

Aaron shook his head slowly, unbelieving. Emma’s smile became hungrier and she reached into the box. Her giant hand moved with frightening speed and wrapped around his body before he could react, and she pulled him from the box, lifting him to head level, what seemed like miles above the ground, or, in this case, the bed.

Emma stood, naked save for a thin pair of lacy black underwear, over an unmade bed in a large room. Lit by sunlight streaming in through a single window, the furniture and decorations, mostly everything white or pink in color, made it seem like it was her own bedroom. It was a bit messy, some clothes on the floor and some hanging off the dresser. Her bra, black like her underwear, was strung over the bed’s headboard. 

She had a body that deserved to be admired, thin and athletic, with long legs and small, close-hugging breasts, pale skin with light tan marks from a bikini. Her nipples were small and pink, with tiny bumps on the areolae. Her left nipple was slightly larger than the right, but both sat pointing slightly outwards from the center of her breasts.

But Aaron was too terrified, too overwhelmed for admiration. His eyes were locked on hers, and she inspected him like a piece of meat. “I own you,” she repeated finally, drawing him close to her face. “You do nothing without my permission, you do exactly as I say, is that clear?”

Aaron tried to open his mouth to protest, or to even ask what was going on, but he found that he couldn’t. Instead, he nodded, and his eyes widened in shock. He was absolutely certain that he had not tried to nod, but his body had moved anyway.

“That’s right. I can control your every move,” she said. Suddenly, he was her, staring through her eyes, feeling his own terrified body in her fist. “I can control your senses,” she said. He felt her voice as if it came from his own throat, and it was bizarre and terrifying.

Without warning, he was back in his own body, struggling helplessly against her fist as it tightened around him. It grew tighter and tighter, to the point where he could no longer draw breath, and she brought her other hand up and squeezed him even tighter between both hands. The pressure was phenomenal, but it never seemed to escalate to pain. Her hands were shaking from the effort, and then she suddenly relaxed.

Aaron took a deep, relieved breath, and Emma continued, “Your vitals are tied to mine. You can’t die, but I can make things very uncomfortable for you if you do not obey me, do you understand?”

Aaron nodded weakly, this time of his own volition. He didn’t know what her threats meant, but he didn’t want to piss her off until he could figure out what to do.

"My first job for you," she continued, "Will tell me how useful you are. I spent a lot of money, so you'd better do it right."

The sudden sensation of motion was dizzying. Faster than he could believe, he was swept downwards across her entire body, until he was at a level with her hips, staring at the line where her panties met the pale skin of her stomach. Her fist twisted sideways a little bit during the motion, and now he was almost parallel with the ground.

With her other hand, she pulled open the waistband to her underwear. As close as Aaron was, he could smell the odor that spilled out of them, and, as small as he was, it hit him like a freight train. The heady, fishy smell seemed to displace all the air around him, and he hardly heard Emma speak when she told him, "You are going to make me come."

Her belly twitched when she spoke, a subtle flexing of her diaphragm that he never would have noticed had he been full size. But, at this scale, at this distance, it was impossible to ignore, showing him exactly how pathetic he was next to the giantess.

But he didn't have much time to think about it. With her command, Emma opened her fist, and Aaron tumbled down her spread fingers and directly into the waistband of her panties. The heat multiplied and the odor grew overwhelming as he descended. He bounced once off the springy cotton, struck flesh, and stopped.

Without any further prodding or explanation, Emma let the waistband to her underwear snap shut, and his thin supply of fresh air disappeared, leaving him in a world of heat, flesh, and body odor. 

Claustophobia set in immediately, and he began to struggle. The flesh in front of him was solid, and the panties at his back were snug and unyielding. He couldn't gain purchase against anything around him, and his panic grew, making him flail wildly, with absolutely no effect.

"You're not gonna do anything up there," Emma's voice boomed from above. The skin that pressed against his face shook with the strength of it, twitched with the flexing of her muscles, and he slipped down another inch or so.

Aaron tried to swallow his fear and figure out what he could do. He certainly couldn't escape, but make her come? How the hell was he supposed to do that? He pushed as hard as he could and managed to get enough distance to see that he was within arm's reach of the cleft that led down between her legs. But he knew that the more sensitive flesh was further on, and he'd have to struggle towards the source of that overbearing stench to find it.

Did he really have to do this? He didn't want to see what would happen if he didn't, so, with a groan, he twisted himself around, working against the pressure of the underwear against his back until he was upside-down, his head level with the cleft. He brought his arms over his head and started to dig into the flesh. His hands met a warm, sticky moisture, and he stopped to look at it. Lubricant. He tried to wipe it off on the dryer skin around him, but it wasn't really coming off.

Disgusting. But he carried on, seeking with his hands for something that would feel like a clitoris. Eventually, Emma spoke again, "Are you having trouble finding it? Maybe it would help if it was bigger, then?"

Without warning, or without even a sound to accompany the sudden transition, the entire world around him became larger. The skin underneath him grew closer, the stitching of her underwear seemed to grow more coarse, and the wet groove he was digging his hands through hungrily consumed him all the way to the elbows, multiplying in size before his eyes.

Christ. She could control his size, too? That would make her the only person who could return him to normal, though. Maybe, if he made her happy, she would let him walk away.

No choice but to do what she asked, then. With a noise of disgust, he slowly started pulling himself forward and downward. The pressure of her panties at his back made it hard to keep his head out of the crack, but the skin was growing pinker and wetter as he moved on, so he knew he was going in the right direction.

Her labia was larger than him now, and by a good amount. Her clitoris might well be the size of his head, and it would be beneath more skin than he could reach by just blindly searching with his arm. He didn't have to stick his face in there, did he?

But Emma made the decision for him. Suddenly, there was an immense pressure on his back, through the panties, and his whole body sank between the lips of her labia. The wrinkled flesh parted willingly to accept him, slathering every inch of his body in her fluids, and his face was pressed mercilessly against smooth, bright pink, soaking wet skin.

There was no air here, only lubricant. He fought the urge to panic as it filled his mouth and he coughed and sputtered. The thick, almost savory taste filled his mouth, combining with the overpowering fishy odor to create a truly suffocating mixture. But, as he fought to pull his head back enough for a breath of fresh air, he realized that his lungs were not burning for oxygen. Between coughs, he had been breathing comfortably, and it was mostly frothy lubricant that had slid down his throat.

He didn't drown, and it didn't even hurt. The realization calmed his panic but made him realize how hopeless his situation was. She controlled everything about him, he couldn't even die down here. He grit his teeth and tried to figure out where she had pushed him.

He felt a firm pressure on his stomach, a smooth object that he guessed was her clitoris. He worked his hands down and started to massage it, praying that he was going for the right thing, and waiting desperately for some indication that he was making progress. Even the slightest motion was tremendous down here, though. She spread her legs slightly, and he could feel her muscles moving, her labia shifting around him. Her heartbeat was very clearly audible, and he could feel it through her skin if he focused on it, but it was steady. Was this doing anything for her?

Suddenly, his whole world shifted violently. The unpredictable sense of motion was nauseating, but he realized from its regularity that she was just walking. Her hips swaying with every step, rocking him back and forth in his panty prison, the impact of her heels hitting the ground vibrating the world around him.

Then, with a tremendous impact, she crashed onto her bed. His orientation shifted with dizzying speed, and he was hanging upside-down, held tight in place by the combination of her panties and the flesh around him. On her back, she spread her legs wide enough that her labia started to give way, and he just sank deeper into it, all but drowning in her hot flesh.

"Well, you tried," said her booming voice. "Let me show you how it's done."

Before Aaron could realize what she was about to do, Emma's hand dug into her underwear. The casual motion for her was absolute chaos for him. Her slender fingertips immediately filled his entire world, effortlessly moving aside the flesh and cotton walls of his prison. Her middle two fingers pressed against his back, shoving him hard against the flesh of her crotch, which parted and welled up around him.

The pressure was tremendous, and then she started masturbating, drawing lazy circles over her crotch with her fingers, and him caught between the two. He slid torturously over lubricant-soaked flesh, every ripple grabbing and twisting at his limbs, fighting in vain against the absolute control of a giantess.

He squirmed, kicked, and punched, but he may as well have been not moving at all for all the good it did him. If anything, she seemed to enjoy it more. With his face being ground mercilessly into her flesh, he could hear her heartbeat picking up its pace. Just barely, through the deafening squelching of wet flesh, but it was distinct. Her hips started to rock, but he could barely tell through all the motion, and, if he wasn't mistaken, he thought he heard a soft moan pass her lips. 

But, God, this was taking forever. It would have been erotic if it had not been so terrifying. The dark wrinkles and wet pink flesh of her crotch ripped over his face in a blur of speed, his entire world replaced with heat, noise, and motion. As time went by, she pushed harder and moved faster, making the exercise more torturous for him with every passing second. 

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but it felt like hours. He could definitely hear her moaning now, moving faster and pressing harder, making the whole thing, if anything, even more painful. Just when it got to the point that he was starting to get used to it, almost even bored of it, she came.

She let out a cute, choking gasp, and her hips bucked once or twice, more of a twitch, still holding him facefirst against her pussy. And then she let out a long, relieved sigh, and her hand pulled free of her panties, leaving Aaron still trapped between her sopping wet labia.

"Mmm, yeah, that's how you do it," she breathed, her soft voice barely reaching him through the flesh around him, the words barely audible over the pounding of her heartbeat. "You just stay down there for now, see if you can figure it out yourself."

Wait, was that it? A few minutes of sexual torture and now he just had to hang out in her still-wet panties all day? Of course he did, it didn't matter to her that he would by lying here in the heat and stink while she went about her day. What if he needed to eat? Or drink? Or sleep?

He realized with a growing sense of dread that he probably didn't need to do any of those things. She had just put him through a torture that should have killed him at his size, and lubricant had flowed freely down his throat and into his lungs without him even noticing. He couldn't die, and he couldn't escape, he could only lie there and wait for Emma to want another round.

She got off the bed, the motion chaotic and unpredictable, the flesh around him shifting with soft, wet noises as she did so. He finally wound up face-up, his upper body buried so deep in her labia that he was staring at the entrance to her vagina, and his legs below the knee both free, though twisted around each other and pressed up against her flesh by the pressure of her panties. The heat was phenomenal,  making it hard for him to think about anything but how hot it was, and he couldn't tell if he was sweating or just soaked head to toe in lubricant. 

He rocked back and forth with her hips, unable to move his limbs to seek a more comfortable position for the force of the flesh that surrounded him. With every step, he felt the vibration and heard the soft thump of her heel striking the ground. Her cadence was irregular, but, after a few minutes, the predictable, repetitive rhythm of her every step was something that he thought he could get used to.

Then, abruptly, he was her. Looking through her eyes, feeling cool air on slender limbs. An unfamiliar pressure on his chest that he realized was her bra. He couldn't control anything, and the realization was a new kind of claustrophobia. Trapped in his mind, or, rather, in someone else's, an audience to her life but unable to so much as blink.

She pulled a T-shirt out of a drawer and slid it down over her head, then picked a skirt off the ground and put her legs through it, buttoning it up and straightening out her outfit with mechanical efficiency. She turned and looked at a wall-length mirror, and it still came as a shock, seeing the reflection of Emma Watson through what felt like his own eyes.

She grinned and hiked up her skirts, and a single hand went down between her legs, her middle finger sliding gently over her crotch. He couldn't feel anything there except wet cotton, and he realized that he really couldn't feel more than a slight pressure in his... her crotch. She was basically able to ignore that he was even there.

"That's you," she said delightedly, the voice felt beyond bizarre coming from his own lips. "Now, don't make me come down there, okay?"

Then, just as suddenly as he had been transported into her mind, he was back in his. The assault of heat and pressure and sound and stench was so sudden, and made worse by the few moments he had spent as a regular person, that he yelped and recoiled. Or, at least, he tried. The flesh surrounded him so thoroughly that the shout came out hopelessly muffled and the jump was more of an impotent twitch.

Oh God. Was this his life now? Trapped in this suffocating world while his captor went about her life, completely forgetting about him while every minute spent down here was torture? And what the hell did she mean, come down here? She was going to masturbate with him again, guaranteed, but that threat seemed different.

Emma was never really able to forget about the little man in her pants, at least not over the next hour or so. Just walking around outside was erotic, knowing that she had a secret tucked away, that her pussy was someone's whole world right now and the strangers passing her in the street would never know. She knew that the industry, though illegal, still processed a decent number of shrunken men. They might be rare, but Emma found herself looking at faces for a sultry smile that matched her own, wondering of anyone else had the same little toy.

Less than sixty minutes had passed, and her crotch was still absolutely oozing lubricant, to the point that she was sure that it would start running down her leg, or worse, stain her skirts. She was still slightly tender from before, but already uncontrollably horny. God, this little toy was going to be a liability. If she kept on like this, she'd wind up tackling a total stranger and fucking him right there in the street.

She found the first clothing store she could, bought the cheapest set of panties she could find, and immediately retreated to the changing room. Setting her skirt aside, she sat down and looked between her legs at a crotch that was soaked through with lubricant.

She closed her eyes, leaned back, and transported her mind into the man's body.

The sudden onslaught on her senses was beyond overwhelming. She had no idea how miserable it was for him to be down here. She had planned on masturbating as him for some sexual release, and just trying to forget about him until she got home, but this was too much.

The heat, the stench, the pressure. Her mouth was filled with the taste of her own flesh and fluids. Everything she could see was pink and wet, every inch of her skin was enveloped by the soft flesh of her own genitals. Directly in front of her, her vision was filled with the dark maw of her vagina, rippling flesh pressed up tight together, lubricant bubbling up from unknown depths.

The moment she realized what it was like down here, she realized what she wanted to do. Fighting against the surprising amount of pressure from the flesh that surrounded her, she forced her way deeper into her own labia, shocked at how difficult it was at this size. She had no problem putting an entire finger knuckle-deep into her vagina, but, at this size, every inch was won with a tremendous amount of effort. 

And that's where she was going. She had taken control of her little toy's body and was forcing him to climb into his mistress' vagina. It was exhausting, and she had put her mind so thoroughly into his that she was forced to take a rest every few minutes, gasping with effort, each breath drawing hot, frothy lubricant down her throat. The heat surrounded her and filled her, making the exercise that much more exhausting.

She got him in up to his shoulders, both arms over her head, before she was unable to gain any purchase at all. She wasn't able to get her feet down on anything, and her hands slipped uselessly against the soft, fleshy walls of her own vagina. She finally stopped, breathing heavy, and just lay there for a few minutes, sucking down lubricant with every breath. 

Then, holding her senses in his body, she brought control back to her own limbs. She didn't need vision or even touch to guide her hand down into her pants. Feeling her own giant fingers on her back was terrifying, but she used her giantess strength to effortlessly overcome the challenge that had consumed the better part of five minutes. In seconds, she was buried head to toe in her own vagina.

She thought about masturbating with his understandably hard dick, but the expression of her absolute control over him she had already made was enough by itself. She'd leave him in here and teach him what else she could do when she got home.

In an instant, she transported herself back into her own mind, leaving the little man buried in her vagina. The sudden return of fresh, cool air was a stunning relief, and she leaned back with a grin, patting the still-wet crotch of her panties. A quiet, satisfied 'hmm' came out of her throat, and she took a deep, shaky breath, stood up, and started to change.

That was the most terrifying thing that had happend to him so far. He had been forced to watch as his limbs moved with a will of their own, dragging him inch by inch into the hole that he had spent the better part of the last hour trying to keep himself from sinking into. It was immediately clear that Emma had come into his mind and taken his body, and, after about five minutes of struggling against flesh like quicksand, she gave up and just pushed him all the way in herself.

Then his limbs were his again. If he thought that being in her panties had been torture, this was a hundred times worse. Her heartbeat was deafening, and each beat made the walls around him pulse slightly. The only other sound was the wet, squishing sound of her vaginal walls sliding over each other every time he tried to move.

The heat was incredible. Soft, elastic flesh sandwiched his entire body, pressing relentlessly against his front and back. He drew deep, desperate breaths, his heartbeat pounding in his ears and claustrophobic panic rising up in his throat. But each breath only served to suck the hot flesh into his face, and all he could draw into his lungs was a thin trickle of frothy lubricant, filling his mouth with the thick taste of her womahhood. 

He was completely surrounded, and completely at her mercy. The unstimulated walls of her vagina were stronger than he was, so he had no doubt that, if she so much as twitched her pelvic muscles, he would be broken in half. But, if she had taken control of him, that meant that she had been in his mind with him, right? She had seen through his eyes, and knew exactly how miserable this place was for him.

He had hoped that she had just not known. That she had just dumped him in her panties and forgotten about him. But that meant that she not only knew, but she had decided to do the one thing that would make it even worse. The last of his hope withered with that realization. 

So there was nothing for him to do but sit here and wait. Feel the gentle rocking of her hips, listen to the pounding of her heartbeat, and try to endure the oppressive heat and claustrophobic pressure of her flesh pressing against him on all sides. Just lie inside her and wait for her decide to use him again.

If anything, what she had done to her little toy had made her even hornier. Within the hour, she could literally feel her vagina throbbing with her heartbeat. She started having fantasies of fucking the first stranger she could find, shrinking the man down to an eighth of an inch and letting him ride it out inside her. God, the idea was appealing, but she reminded herself wearily that she had a boyfriend. No matter how horny she was, it wasn't worth it. That would have to wait until later.

She kept fantasizing about it, though, deciding that, when the time did come, she could take up in the little man's mind. Feel the heat and passion of their love from as close as physically possible.

After a while, a thought occurred. This little man was basically her toy, right? It wasn't cheating on her boyfriend to use him any more than it was to use a dildo. She had full control over his size, too, from a fraction of an inch to six feet tall. Meaning that she didn't always have to just use him as a dildo; if she wanted some dick, she could just make him give it to her.

God, the very idea made her quiver in anticipation. She could grow him to full size, take control of his brain, and fuck herself senseless. She could even let him experience it through her eyes. Oh, that sounded perfect.

She practically ran home, hardly able to wait any longer, and quickly stripped herself naked. Her new underwear had a quickly-growing stain of lubricant in the crotch now too, but she kicked it to the side. She lay down on the bed and dug the tiny man out of her vagina, tossing him down on the floor like the rest of her clothes. Then she closed her eyes and, at the same time, put her mind into his, put his mind into hers (but left out any control over her limbs), and grew him to six feet tall.

When her perspective shifted into his eyes, he was still growing, now about three feet tall. The lubricant that had coated his skin when he was tiny had spread so thin that she couldn't feel it at all. She was naked, a full six feet tall in only a few more seconds, and already hard.

She looked down and saw her naked body, seemingly unconscious and sprawled across the bed. With a bit of a shift in focus, she made her own eyes open and meet those that she was looking through now. So there she was, in the body of a man, looming naked over her own limp body, staring at herself with an eager look on both their faces. 

She knew that her toy was looking back up at her, fully aware of what was about to happen but completely unable to move, even to look away. Which was fine by her; she wanted him to see and feel what it was to be Emma Watson, and what it was to be fucked.

Without any delay, she picked up both of her own legs, slid between them, and just started pounding.

It was, without a doubt, the weirdest, most helpless, and pleasurable sensation he had ever felt. Staring up at himself, feeling a cock stroke rapidly in and out of an organ that he had never had. It felt good, and the pleasure built with every thrust. 

This was rape, no doubt about it, but how could he tell anyone what had happened, even if he got the chance to? The experience was so bizarre that it was hard for him to enjoy, and, sooner than he would have thought, it was over. With one, final thrust, he felt the cock inside him flex, shooting hot fluid that he could feel with astonishing sensitivity. 

A few more weak thrusts, leaking more cum and spreading it all over her insides, and he pulled out, crashing down on the bed beside him immediately.

Then he was moving. Emma was back in her own mind. She stood up, and he could feel the cum running down, the warm tingles of a still-raw vagina. She looked down at his body and he saw it rapidly shrinking, already barely a foot tall.

Oh no, God no. But he couldn't do anything as his body finished shrinking, probably no more than four inches tall or so now, and Emma reached down to grab it. 

As soon as her fist wrapped around his torso, his mind shot back into his own body, and he was staring up at a naked giantess who hardly even had concern enough to look at him as she spread her legs slightly and brought him down between them. He could see the milky white fluid leaking out of her insides. A thin haze coated her entire swollen crotch like a glazed donut, and a single, slimy drop formed on the wrinkled flesh of her labia, threatening to fall at the slightest motion.

That was his cum. A thin five milliliters of fluid that, at this size, was gallons of sticky fluid. Emma spread her lips with her free hand, showing the pink flesh and the white stream of fluid that flowed from within it. Then, without delay, she shoved him headfirst into her vagina. 

Instantly, he was once again surrounded in heat and pressure, immersed in sticky, cloudy-white fluid, a mixture of her lubricant and his own cum. He struggled vainly, revulsion rising in his gut, but the walls absorbed all of his best efforts, and he quickly ran himself out of breath. He had tried to stop from breathing the disgusting, viscuous mix of bodily fluids, knowing that he didn't really need air anyway, but his burning lungs would not be denied. He gasped for air, and instead felt the hot fluid sliming its way down his lungs. 

He choked and coughed, disgusted by the sensation, but he couldn't help but gasp for more, as if it were fresh air he were drawing into his lungs and not gallons of his own cum. Finally, he got himself under control, but there was no use trying to resist it. This was his life now. Heat surrounded him and filled him; he couldn't even close his eyes and pretend it wasn't happening, because the pounding of Emma's heartbeat, the squelching of wet flesh, filled his ears. All he could do was wait and hope that the next time she masturbated would be a chance at fresh air.

Probably the biggest advantage that men had, Emma thought, was that they didn't need to worry about leakage after sex. She wiped up her crotch and made  sure to put a pad in her underwear, but she'd be oozing the cum, drop by drop, for the rest of the day. The silver lining to all of it was that her little toy would have to spend that whole time swimming in it. She couldn't think of a way to more thoroughly humiliate him than to leave him to stew indefinitely in his own semen. 

Despite the release she had gotten while in his mind, now that she was back in her own, she was feeling a bit sexually frustrated. She thought that she had done well, but she had really only lasted a few minutes. Not like she had had much experience at having sex as a man, but her performance really hadn't been that great. She, as in her own body, hadn't finished. She hadn't even come close. 

The result was a profoundly dissatisfied feeling. She thought that she could wait until her boyfriend came home, but she really couldn't get her mind of the little man inside her. He wasn't moving enough to be stimulating, just enough that she couldn't really forget about him. She could fix that, but didn't really want to be sucking down lungfuls of cum any more than he did, and, if she wanted to use him to orgasm, she'd have to enter his brain and make him move manually.

Well, she had gotten this far without a living toy. She crashed on the bed and spread her legs, pulling her panties up to her knees, and started to masturbate.

If Aaron had been paying attention, he would have noticed that the opening few inches of Emma's vagina started to shift unpredictably. He was too busy being disgusted by the sperm and lubricant sliding down his throat to catch that little detail, though, so the first indication that he had that the giantess was masturbating was a bone-crushing contraction of her pelvic muscles.

He was just sitting there, trying to breathe as little as possible, his arms held fast against his body and his legs pressed close together by the already-tight walls of the woman's vagina, when her heartbeat started to pick up pace. Then, without warning, the walls around him turned to steel and clamped down hard on his body.

The pressure was incredible. He was already squeezed into as small a volume as possible, but her pelvic muslces threatened to break his bones. The contraction seemed to last forever, though it couldn't have been more than a second or two. Unable even to draw breath amidst the pressure, his eyes felt like they would pop out of their sockets. And then, as suddenly as it had come, it was over. Reflexively, he breathed deep, and realized what he was breathing as the warm slime filled his lungs, and he began coughing uncontrollably.

Before he could recover, the giantess' vagina contracted again. The elastic walls snapped in at him from all sides, the gentle textures compressing and grabbing at every limb with brutal force. He let out a gasping scream at the sudden crushing pressure, but it came out as more of a choking gargle as viscuous bodily fluids came flowing from his mouth.

Again, the moment the contraction subsided, he couldn't help but breathe deep in his relief, hating himself for doing it. But, even faster than the second, another contraction came, brief but powerful. Then another, and another, and another.

Through the torturous cycles of contraction and release, Aaron could hear Emma's heartbeat racing, he could even hear pleasured moans through the tons and tons of flesh that surrounded him. She was masturbating. It probably wasn't that intense for her, but, holy shit; he would give his life to have it end right now.

But it didn't end, and he didn't die. He couldn't. He could just lie there, subjected to the cruel force of the giantess' pelvic muscles as she worked her way to orgasm.

She probably only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like forever, and he lost track of the number of contractions. He was just barely given enough time to recover from one before another tried to kill him. They came one after the other, reaching a sort of rhythm but each one stronger than the last, until she finally came.

That was impossible to miss. Her pelvic muscles clamped down with force like nothing else he had experienced. She had squeezed him with both her fists and it was nothing compared to this. His lungs were forced empty, his eyes felt like they were about to pop out of his head. He fought and pushed with all his might but couldn't even budge a finger. The flesh of her vagina had turned to stone and folded over every curve of his body like latex.

It lasted forever, too. He would have been ground to paste if he had been limited by normal physiology. And then, when it subsided seemingly hours later, it was followed by a rapid set of smaller contractions, slapping down on him with barely time to take a breath between, but growing slowly weaker and further apart.

Eventually, it all finally stopped. Her body still throbbed around him, her heartbeat pounding, the walls of her vagina pulsing, the heat so strong that it was a physical presence. But, at the very least, the contractions stopped, leaving him to recover as best he could while surrounded by flesh and fluid.

But what next? 

Emma lay naked on the bed, her breathing deep and satisfied, basking in the warm and tingly afterglow. It wasn't really that remarkable a time spent flicking the bean, but something about having the tiny man inside her when she did it, just knowing that he was there... Jesus.

That was enough for her, at least until her boyfriend came home. She could just enjoy the feeling of the little man stirring around inside her until then. She thought briefly about going down and seeing what things were like from his perspective, but, after cumming, the idea of swimming in that hot mess of fluids kind of grossed her out. She could only imagine what it was like for him, then, when he didn't even have a choice.

Her boyfriend got home late, and she didn't rush things. If she started before they went to bed, he would probably go down on her, and might ask the perfectly reasonable question of why there was still cum oozing out of her vagina. So she waited until he had already gone to bed. She stuffed her cum-stained panties in the bottom of the hamper, tossed the pad, and sauntered slowly into bed with him, stark naked. He watched her the whole way, hunger in his eyes, and, when she got under the covers, he immediately grabbed her.

He didn't ask, and wouldn't stop unless she told him to. Just before he entered her, she shrank the little man as far down as he could go, around a millimeter in size. She couldn't feel him anymore at that size, but she had the sense that he was still inside her, somewhere near the entrance to her vagina.

She couldn't help but smile. That was about to change.

The moment she felt his dick enter her, she let out a little gasp. For the first time, instead of just enjoying it, though, she tried to study what he did that made him so good. He went as deep as he could into her, then a few shallow retreats. After a few seconds, her boyfriend had her on her back, one hand clamped on her ass to lift it up, and another on her breast, this thumb rubbing slow circles over her nipple.

After that, she very quickly lost track of what was going on. A very powerful wave of pleasure hit her and she gasped, collapsing back onto the bed. Very quickly, she couldn't focus on anything but the pleasure, each thrust eliciting a soft gasp as she let her boyfriend pound her, riding the wave to orgasm, barely even thinking about the tiny man inside her anymore.

For Aaron, it was the most terrifying, chaotic ride of his life. He was just biding his time in the tight, fleshy hell, still revulsed at the sensation of the hot, slimy mess of bodily fluids sliding down his throat. Even though most of it had run out in the intervening hours, it was still impossible to escape, and impossible to wipe clear of his skin. Since Emma had last masturbated with him, he had breathed it deeply and drunk it by the gallon, but the very flesh that surrounded him produced fluid seemingly endlessly. 

And then he suddenly shrank. It was almost instant and it came with no warning. Suddenly, the thin film of fluid almost completely consumed him, and the ridges and textures of her vagina were bigger than he was. He was stuck in a gap between the ridges, unable to free himself from thick layer of heavy, milky fluid. He shrank so quickly that the walls, which had previously hugged him so tight that he could barely move, seemed cavernously far apart before they sprang back together to fill the void. 

But he was so small that they didn't crush him. As the wall at his back surged up and the wall in front of him came rushing down, they came in contact but didn't press together. He found himself trapped in a tiny pocket where the ridges of her vagina came together. For the first time in hours, he was actually able to move, but the realization of how small the space he was trapped in was, how small he was, was even more claustrophobic than when he had been her humam dildo.

He didn't have much time to contemplate his situation, though. Because, only a second or so after he shrank, something absolutely massive came crashing into him and ground him mercilessly along the inside of her vagina, driving him what felt like a hundred feet in less than a second.

For a moment, he thought that she was masturbating again, using a rubber dildo and torturing him by making him ride along, but the moment he came to a stop, he realized the much more horrible reality. The wrinkly, purple flesh that pressed against his face, radiating heat and pounding with its own heartbeat, was an actual cock.

No sooner did he realize it did the giant start fucking Emma with brutal speed. Instantly, his world became a whirlwind of motion, heat, and pressure. One moment, he was being ground facefirst into the walls of the giantess' vagina, the head of the giant's penis at his back, the next, he was shoved up against the wall and forced to endure the entire length of the man's dick passing over him until he was picked up by the ridge at the head.

Sometimes he was stuck to the man's cock, sometimes he was stuck to the walls of Emma's vagina. More often, though, he was rolled savagely between the two like a mote of dust between his fingers, limbs tangled together and body bent at impossible angles. At one point, he was slammed against the woman's cervix, watching the cock ram in and out until it came deep enough to pick him back up. At another, he found himself on the man's balls, watching the staggeringly huge cock drive in and out of her vagina. He thought that that's where he would stay, until his balls slapped her ass and he was stuck to the giantess' fluid-soaked labia. The flesh around him shook and bent with each thrust, drawing him closer to the vaginal opening, until the giant's penis snagged his leg and dragged him helplessly back inside her.

He had no idea how long they were going for, and he could hardly tell the difference between an inward and an outward thrust half the time. He could sometimes tell whether he was trapped underneath the hard, unyielding body of his cock or the softer flesh at the head, but, most of the time, there was too much motion to notice even that. The sound of fluid and flesh sliding and slapping together was deafening, and, underneath it all, he could hear both their heartbeats beating their own rapid, conflicting rhythms.

The man finished halfway through an inward thrust. The head of his cock came crashing through the walls, pushing them apart effortlessly, and let loose with a deluge of thick, white sperm just as it passed over him. He was soaked instantly,  but barely had time to realize it before he was shoved into the vaginal walls by the massive, throbbing body.

The giant stopped thrusting when he was all the way inside her, his penis flexing directly into Aaron's face as it pushed out the last few drops of cum, then he slowly pulled out.

Aaron realized what was about to happen and tried desperately to stay inside Emma as the cock started to pull him out, but there was nothing that he could do. As the rapidly-softening body slid outwards, he was rolled between it and the walls of the woman's vagina, slowly approaching the entrance, until the mushroom ridge of his glans caught him, and he was dragged helplessly out of Emma's vagina.

The man's foreskin folded over him just before he reached the open air, trapping him in a prison of flesh, what little space there was filled by the fluids that he had dragged out with him.

This was bad, he realized. He couldn't get the giant's attention, not at this size, and he certainly couldn't escape. He was trapped here for good, at least until the next time he had sex, or, worse, if he took a shower and cleaned under his foreskin. He would be washed down the drain without a second thought, carried away as sewage.

What would happen then? Carried to the ocean and eaten by a fish? He was immortal, but completely helpless. Emma would forget about him like a lost toy and he would live forever as fish food. The very idea was horrific; at least, under Emma's control, he stood a chance of being restored to normal someday, even if it took her whole life. But this stranger had no idea he was here and would likely flush him down the drain without ever even knowing.

Fear overcame his disgust, and he thrashed wildly, his limbs moving sluggishly through the thick, pasty fluid. He pounded at the flesh around him, but, however soft it may have been, it was unyielding to someone of his size. He may as well have been punching a brick wall. He quickly tired himself out and he just lay there, sucking down the thick fluid as if it was air, his mind racing for a way to escape.

There was nothing he could do. God, did she even know he was here?

The next morning, Emma woke her boyfriend with a blowjob. After they had finished last night, it took her a few minutes to come to her senses, and, by that time, she realized that her little toy was no longer inside her. She knew that he was nearby, but she couldn't really tell where. Once her boyfriend got up to use the bathroom and she felt the toy quickly receding, she realized where he was.

It was only the next morning that she realized how big of a bullet she had dodged. The moment she wrapped her mouth around her boyfriend's dick, she sensed the tiny man trapped underneath his foreskin, right under the head of his penis. If he had been anywhere else, her boyfriend might have flushed him down the toilet without a second thought. She wondered idly if it was an accident or he had managed to hide himself under there on purpose.

Didn't matter now, though. Now it was time to get him back. Her boyfriend was fully erect by the time he actually woke up, and Emma had been able to retrieve the little man from under his foreskin with her tongue. Now, with him planted firmly between her tongue and her boyfriend's cock, she started to bob her head up and down.

She was incredibly turned on by the idea of what she was putting the shrunken man through, and apparently her boyfriend, even the morning after, was pretty excited too. He came in only a few minutes, and she took all of his cum in her mouth, sucking on his dick and drawing the little man to the back of her throat. She grinned, then swallowed.

She lay back down on the bed, swallowing a few more times to ensure that the little man was in her stomach, then slowly started to grow him. She increased his size until she could feel her stomach getting full, and stopped. At that size, her body wouldn't pass him, and he would just hang out in her stomach until she felt like bringing him back up.

After a while, her boyfriend left for work, and she decided it was time to recover the little man. She drank a little bit of water, shrunk him down again, and shoved her fingers down the back of her throat. 

It was not lost on her how close she had come to losing the tiny man. Best-case scenario, he would have been lost down the drain and she'd be out of a lot of money; you couldn't exactly insure an illegal slave against loss or theft. Worse, her boyfriend could have found him. She liked him, but she didn't trust him not to sell her out for a crime like that. She didn't know if there was anyone in her life she could trust that much.

She looked down at the little man, sizing him up a little bit to see him clearer. He was sitting in the sink in a shallow pool of vomit, trying to clear a thin, slimy film of fluid from his eyes. Not a pretty sight, but he looked better than he deserved, given what he had gone through. If there was anyone she could trust, it would be him.

Not now, sure. Now, he'd run at the first chance. He probably longed to get washed down the drain, just for the slim chance of escape it offered. But she could break him, or so she was told. He was intimate with her in a way that nobody could ever be, and he would never have a break from the heat of her flesh or the whims of her drive. For now, even the most routine things for her were torture for him, but, after a while, he would get used to them. And, in time, he would long for her attention, and strive endlessly to make her happy. 

That was an enticing thought. Instead of going back and resetting his memories to give her a fresh new slave, she could go out with him into the world, confident that he would never betray her. She could tell the world that he was her boyfriend, and then she could retreat to her bedroom and use him relentlessly. 

She turned on the faucet to rinse him off, giggling as the sudden torrent of water knocked him down on his ass. She turned it off before it got warm, and scooped him up. "Did you have fun last night?" she asked him, holding him at head height. He didn't meet her eye, his expression fearful and his gaze darting around, trying to take in a world so much larger than he was. "Hey, look at me," she commanded sharply. He cringed, but he did muster up the courage to make eye contact. "I asked you a question. Did you have fun last night?"

The shrunken man's expression was half fear, half disbelief. After a moment, he shook his head. His voice was small, but Emma could barely hear him whisper, "No."

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that," she said, affecting a look of genuine concern. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Another pause. He didn't understand what she was up to, but he clearly didn't trust her. "You could let me go," he offered softly.

Emma laughed cheerily, throwing her head back and pressing the tiny man to her breast. "I can't do that, silly," she answered, looking down at him again. "I paid a lot of money for you." She made a show of thinking for a moment, then said, "I'll tell you what I can do."

She spun on her heel, walking back to the bedroom, trying to keep him steady at head height. "I own you now, and that's never going to change. But I don't see a reason why we can't both enjoy this. You just have to prove to me that you deserve it."

She put him gently down on her bed, the bedsheets still unmade and the room still carrying the musky smell of sex. Then, without preamble or explanation, she grew him to his full size. The look of shock was clear on his face, and she could see the indecision behind his eyes. Should he try to make a break for it? Maybe swing a punch at her? Call for help?

She swung her legs over his and pressed up close to his chest, wrapping her arms around his warm, firm body. Her thin pajama shirt was the only layer between them, and her firm nipples pressed against him through the fabric. "Take me," she breathed into his ear. "Show me what you can do."

He was still a bit indecisive, but she could feel him getting hard beneath her crotch. She ground on him a little bit, smearing him with panties still damp from the fluids of the night before. "Don't just be my toy, be my lover."

Eventually, he siezed on the opportunity like she hoped he would. He grabbed her head violently and pushed their lips together. Their tongues wormed together, and Emma let her eyes close, breathing deep of the smell and heat of him, her hips beginning to rock.

After a few minutes, Emma could feel that he was painfully hard. One of his hands worked its way up her shirt, gripping her breast, and she gasped around his tongue. The other hand was down between her legs before she realized it, sliding into the waistband of her panties and across the smooth flesh of her vulva. 

He dipped his middle two fingers inside her, and her gasp was half a moan. Her vagina was still raw from the night before, still wet with fluids that she had never cleaned up. He drew his fingers out and brought them up to her face, sliding his wet fingertips into her mouth. She licked up the warm fluid, gazing at him lustfully and willing him to continue.

He didn't disappoint. He didn't even bother trying to take her panties off. He just slid the crotch to one side and, with only a glance downwards to align himself, pushed his cock slowly inside her.

"Mmmn," she breathed, grabbing his head and pulling his lips back to hers. She could barely breathe fast enough through her nose, sucking in the scent hungrily as he slowly started to thrust. She wrapped her legs around his back, and he responded by clamping both hands on her ass and lifting her bodily into the air.

Her eyes widened in surprise, his cock deep in her pussy, then he jumped down onto the bed, landing directly on top of her while still inside her.

It drove the wind from her lungs, and she parted lips to let out a giggly laugh. What the fuck was that? Did he just bodyslam her? Who does that?

The laugh quickly turned into a moan, though, as he kept going. He would thrust once or twice, pull his cock out and slide it up and down her labia, tickling her clitoris, then shove it back inside her. She loved it, and the pleasure kept building when he stopped pulling out and instead started to massage her clit with his thumb, leaving his other hand fondling at her breast.

She came in about five minutes, and she was obvious about it, letting out a pleasured gasp, fighting for air as ecstasy tightened her entire body. A few thrusts later, he pulled out, and, with a breathy grunt, ejaculated onto the sheets between her legs.

When she finally came down, breathing hard and sweating, she looked down with disgust at the stain on her bed. "What is that?" she demanded. "Are you trying to leave evidence behind? You don't want to sit in a vagina full of your own cum, is that it?"

She rolled her eyes and froze his motion, and he collapsed on top of her. With a groan of effort, God he was heavy, she pushed him off her and stood up, straightening her shirt and her panties. "Now I have to wash my sheets," she said. "I told you, I own you, and nobody is going to 'rescue' you." She let out a shaky, satisifed sigh. "You know, for a moment, I thought you were enjoying yourself."

She turned away, stopped, then went back and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. "That was fun, though," she told him quietly. "We should do this again sometime."

Aaron lay there, unable to move, listening to the shower run, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Less than twelve hours ago, he had been mired in flesh and fluid, stuck beneath the foreskin of a man a thousand times his size. He had been trapped, helpless, as Emma sucked him off and swallowed him whole with a mouthful of cum. He had lay in the terrifying pit of her stomach, the walls beating at him from all sides, until it had suddenly seized and shoved him up through her throat and into the sink.

And the payoff for all that was getting laid? Emma seemed like a completely different person than she had the day before, if anything because he wasn't currently shoved bodily into her vagina. He could scarcely believe that she would treat him any differently, but he siezed the opportunity. If pleasing her was his ticket to freedom, then he would work his ass off for it.

He could have done better if he had jacked off beforehand, but at least she finished first. He had pulled out because, in all honesty, he didn't think that women enjoyed men finishing in them. But it seemed to piss her off, and now she thought that he was trying to find a clever escape.

Or was it a trap the whole time? Would she have found a reason to get mad at him no matter what he did? Then again, her boyfriend had finished inside her yesterday, and she had left it stewing inside her all night, which was honestly kind of disgusting. Maybe she wanted it. Next time, then.

If there would even be a next time. He had blown his chance. He'd spend the rest of his life inside her, he knew it. At least he could say that he had fucked Emma Watson.

The shower cut off, and, a moment later, he heard her walk out of the bathroom, followed by a wave of steamy air washing over his naked body. He couldn't see her, he just stared blankly at the ceiling, waiting to see what she would do next.

"You could probably give my boyfriend some pointers," she mused. "He's good, but that was... whooh. And I've been building you up all day."

She paused, then her face was over his. She was naked from the waist up, a bra in her hand as she leaned over him with a suspicious look. "Wait, you didn't jerk off in my stomach, did you?"

She eyed him for a moment, then laughed and pulled away. "Now, that's the kind of behavior I want from you. I want you to love every part of my body. I want to make you stop trying to pleasure me. You're not there yet, but you will be."

She was quiet for a moment, and he listened to the sounds of her getting ready before she announced, "You are terrible at conversation, by the way."

Really? Then let me talk, you bitch, he thought. But he couldn't say anything. Couldn't move but to blink. After a while, she said, "Alright, time to go. You want to come with?"

In an instant, he shrank down to less than an inch, lying frozen in a seemingly endless field of bedsheets. He had an idea of how small he was, because he was frustratingly close to the stain that he had left on the bed. Emma picked him up between thumb and forefinger and looked him down curiously. "Where do you want to go?" she pondered. "I guess it doesn't matter, does it?"

She had a thin dress sock in her other hand, and he was able to see that she had a lookalike on her left foot. "For the record," she said, "I was going to clean myself up before putting you back inside me, but this seems better for now."

Then she dropped him into the sock. He struck the fabric three times and bounced off before he hit the bottom, and he could barely see the outside world through the sheer cloth. With a sudden, lurching motion, she sat down on the bed, and he was tossed around helplessly inside a sock that waggled free in the air. Then she lifted her foot and slid her sock onto it.

The sound of fabric against her skin was deafening, the pale underside of her foot screaming at him with incredible speed. He was struck by the soft flesh of the arch, and his face was pressed mercilessly into it as her sock drew tight. For what it was worth, the skin was smooth, and smelled of soap and moisturizer. Maybe this wouldn't be so unpleasant.

When she put on her shoe, he was pressed a little harder into the flesh, but nothing could have prepared him for when she put her foot down.

He had hoped that the softer flesh of the arch of her foot would shelter him, he had hoped that less of her weight would be concentrated here, but the moment her foot hit the ground, the pressure that beset him was immense. He should have popped like a grape, his bones should have been ground to powder instantly, leaving nothing but a modest bloodstain on her foot. But, somehow, he survived, under pressure greater than anything he had ever felt before. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears, his chest pushed down so hard that he was sure his sternum would touch his spine. 

The pressure subsided for a moment, and he drew a ragged breath, heavy with the scent and taste of her foot, before her foot came back down and tried to kill him again.

Oh God. She was just walking. This was torture beyond what he could have ever imagined. He would rather spend the entire day swimming in his own cum, he would rather be shoved facefirst up her asshole, than take another step under the sole of her foot.

But, as she said, it didn't matter what he wanted. 

Her foot came down with a deafening bang each time, and he took a deep, desperate breath when her weight lifted before it came back down and drove the air from his lungs. Gasp. Wham. Gasp. Wham. Gasp. Wham.

The rhythm was constant, at least. Painful, but reliable. After a few painful minutes, she stopped, her weight balanced equally on both feet. Maybe waiting for a bus, maybe a crosswalk, maybe just checking her phone. He couldn't tell because all he could see was the sole of her foot, and all he could hear was the pounding of his own heartbeat. Even half her weight was enough that he couldn't fill his lungs, and he lay there, trying in vain to struggle free with his lungs screaming for release.

He didn't need air, he knew it from the hours and hours he had spent swimming in bodily fluids. What kind of cruelty was this that his body demanded to breathe even when it didn't need to? Begging for reprieve, he squirmed and pushed and kicked but, with the giantess' weight on top of him, he couldn't move a muscle. He didn't even have the air to scream, though he was sure that nobody would even hear the muffled cries through the infinite flesh that surrounded him.

Then her weight shifted, and he was finally able to give his lungs the relief they wanted. He greedily sucked down hot air, heavy with the stench of soap and moisturizer, for the brief moment before her weight shifted back and pushed the air out of his lungs again. 

All Aaron wanted was to die, and it had hardly been fifteen minutes. But he couldn't die, and he knew that he would probably be stuck here for the entire day. God, this was a nightmare.

At first, Emma was careful to make things as torturous as possible for her little toy, resting her weight against her right foot as often as possible, feeling for his desperate, panicked twitching. There was some, but either he was too small or she had broken him entirely, because there was not enough for her tastes. Eventually, she got bored.

Having the little man in her panties had added an erotic thrill to her routine, so much so that she couldn't trust herself to do it again. But this was nothing like that. She knew that he was under her foot, but he didn't feel any different than a rock stuck in her shoe.

She had an interview at a studio downtown, and, while sitting in the back of the cab, she transferred her mind into his. Immediately, she was assaulted by an incredible heat, odor, and, above all, pressure. Pressure so great that she couldn't move, so great that she couldn't breathe, even as her lungs screamed for air. It was so horrible that she immediately retreated back to her own mind, gasping for air despite herself.

Well, that was one hell of a way to torture her toy, but what was the point of torture if she didn't get anything from it? Fine, she had found a way to punish the little man for crossing her, but it wasn't doing anything now. He hadn't really done anything wrong. Sure, she made him think that he had fucked up by staining her bedsheets, but this was way overkill. A punishment this cruel had to be saved for when he actually pissed her off.

She couldn't move him, not now, but she let him into her mind as a reprieve from the torture of being under her foot. At least now he wouldn't suffer under the endless, suffocating pressure.

"Feel that?" she muttered to herself, crossing her right leg over her left and wiggling her toes. "That's you. Almost can't tell you're there, really."

She was silent for the rest of the cab ride, texting her boyfriend on her phone and not caring that her tiny toy was reading the occasionally naughty messages. Eventually, the cab arrived, and she stepped out, taking care to slam her foot down as hard as she dared in heels. "Ooh, I bet that hurt," she whispered to herself.

After that, though, she scurried to the bathroom as fast as she could and sat down on the toilet, peeling off the shoe and sock that the tiny man was stuck in. He came off with the sock, and she had to dig into it to pull him out, then lifted his tiny, limp body in front of her face. Not a single sign of damage. Of course. That's what she paid for, but it was impressive nonetheless.

"You see how tiny you are?" she asked aloud. Her toy could see his own body through her eyes, and she wanted to take the opportunity to drive her point home before she carried on with her day. "You could be a pebble in my shoe for the rest of your life, and it would make no difference to me."

With that, she put him back into his own mind. She watched his glazed, unfocused eyes gain awareness, and his tiny face suddenly shift to shock and fear. "I own you," she told him softly, almost lovingly. "And the sooner you realize that, the more fun you'll have."

She dropped him into her other palm and closed her fist. Immediately, she felt him start to squirm, and she tightened her grip, "Ah, ah, ah. Stop squirming."

He stopped moving, though it took a second. When he did, she stood up, slid down her skirt and panties, and back sat down on the toilet to take a piss. She placed the tiny man tenderly on her left thigh and opened her fist. At barely an inch tall, he couldn't get very far if he tried to escape, but she wanted to see what he would do.

Emma Watson opened her fist, and the sudden flood of light and fresh air was overwhelming. Aaron stood on uncertain footing about midway up her left thigh, his tiny body barely even heavy enough to put a dent in the naked flesh.

He stared up at a giantess naked from the waist down, sitting on a toilet and looking down at him with an almost bored expression. He was paralyzed with both fear and confusion for a moment, then he heard the unmistakable sound of her peeing. 

He looked down in shock, as the acrid odor of urine wafted up and mixed with the heady, fishy stench of her pussy. When he looked back up, her expression hadn't changed and her gaze hadn't broken.

Somehow, this kind of intimacy was so much more shocking than anything he had seen so far. He had no idea what to do. The thought of running crossed his mind, but he was barely an inch tall and she had absolute control over his body. If he even made it as far as her knee, it would only be because she wanted it. 

Everything he thought about doing, every escape route he could dream of, came to the same final disappointing conclusion. She had full control over everything about him. If he tried anything that displeased her, she would shut it down immediately, and probably punish him on top of that. The realization hit him like a physical weight, and he collapsed backwards, falling on his naked ass onto the springy flesh of Emma's thigh.

He saw a grin start to cross her face, and he lowered his gaze, not wanting to watch her realization that she had broken him. After a minute, her pee slowly trickled to a stop, and she finally spoke. "I'm proud of you, little guy. I thought you were going to try and make a run for it. As a reward, you get to spend the rest of the day with me."

Then, instantly, he was behind her eyes, staring as she plucked him off her thigh with one hand. With the other, she grabbed a wad of toilet paper, wiped herself with a quick, mechanical motion, and then stuck his shrunken body knuckle-deep into her vagina. He felt the sudden tingle of pleasure at the act of insertion, but, when she pulled her finger away, he couldn't even feel the weight of his own body inside her. He knew without a doubt that it would have been an unending, awful experience if he had been inside his own mind, and the thought that Emma could have gone about her day without even thinking about the torture she was putting him through was crushing.

But now he was trapped behind the mind of another human being. Unable to move, even to breathe or blink at will, but a helpless passenger to another's experience. The unbelievable part was that it was still somehow better than the alternative.

Emma did her interview, and, with nothing else for the day, went home and fucked around on the Internet for a bit. She debated spending all her time sexually torturing her new toy, but building the kind of trust she wanted from him meant being honest. She wasn't fucking or masturbating in every free minute; she could go days without even thinking about sex, and being a part of that mundane routine, even if it was from the inside of her vagina, was something that her toy had to get used to. More importantly, it was a form of intimacy that she thought was more meaningful, if less shocking, than sex.

But, later that evening, she was already starting to get drunk off wine by the time her boyfriend came home. He rapidly caught up to her, and, after an hour of Netflix, she had his pants unbuckled and her mouth around his dick, and his fingers were already in her pants. 

Through the warm haze of the wine, she just barely had the presence of mind to shrink her little toy down to minimum size before she felt her boyfriend's middle two fingers slide down her crotch and into her vagina. He pushed his fingers inside her, and she gasped contentedly around his cock, her eyes rolling back into her her head.

He explored her insides for a few moments with his fingers, then drew out. His free hand grabbed her hair and yanked her, with a surprised gasp, off his dick. They shared a gaze for a moment, then he slid his still-wet fingers into her mouth.

Emma didn't break eye contact, just drunk enough to enjoy the thick, savory taste of her own fluids. She sucked his fingers clean, but didn't recognize until she swallowed that her shrunken toy had been clinging to her boyfriend's fingers as well. Her eyes widened, lips still wrapped around her man's fingers, as she came to the sobering realization that the faint presence of the little man was no longer safely tucked away in her vagina, but was now resting in the pit of her stomach.

Oh well, she thought. He'd survive, and she could get him in the morning. Then, as if he had somehow heard her resign the microscopic man to a tour of her intestines, her boyfriend picked her up and slammed her down on the couch, sliding up between her legs and pushing his dick effortlessly inside her.

After that, she really couldn't say what happened.

Maybe it was a side-effect of the alcohol, maybe it was a conscious decision, but, as soon as Emma started to get a bit drunk, Aaron was forced back into his own mind. The sudden sensation of overwhelming heat and bone-crushing pressure, all-encompassing stench and a slimy taste that filled his mouth was an overwhelming assault on his senses. He kicked and squirmed, off pure instinct, but his fighting elicited no reaction.

Then, a few minutes later, he suddenly shrank. He knew immediately what was coming next, or he thought he did. But, instead of her boyfriend's cock slamming through the walls, his fingers did. They worked their way effortlessly into her vagina, and he found himself pressed betweeen the muscled walls and his middle fingertip.

Then he pulled his fingers out, taking him along with. Aaron was pulled out of Emma's vagina and into blinding light, still clinging to her lover's fingertips in a thick layer of vaginal fluid. After a dizzying blur of motion, the next thing he saw was Emma's mouth opening wide to receive him.

Oh, God dammit. In a second, her lips closed around the man's fingers, plunging him back in darkness. Her tongue, bright red from the wine, slimed up to lick him off. Wine-laced saliva mixed with vaginal lubricant, and her tongue worked him towards the back of her throat. Then, without warning, her throat closed tight around him and dragged him down into her belly.

The whole process only took a few seconds, and he spent most of it in the tight, pulsing confines of her esophagus as the powerful muscles pushed him rapidly down. He hit her stomach with a wet slap, and was immediately thrown into the air by the sudden motion of walls that pulsed like the waves of the ocean. 

The constant motion was nauseating, and, ironically, he had to fight to keep from throwing up. The walls of her stomach twitched and heaved ceaselessly, throwing droplets of brown-grey fluid around. Sometimes, Aaron would hit the wrinkles her stomach and ride the heaving muscles, stuck there by gravity and the viscous fluids that lined the walls. Other times, he was thrown into the air, either by the giantess' sudden motions or the convulsions of her stomach, and bounced off of one fleshy surface after another.

He was coated head to toe in stomach acid. He knew from the subtle tingling on his skin, even though it did no damage to him. He knew that the acid, combined with the pummeling of her stomach, should have reduced him to a pile of liquified flesh and half-digested bones, but he survived anyway. After about an hour of enduring the endless abuse of her insides, he found himself at the bottom of her stomach in a thick pool of half-digested fluid. Then the tight opening below him parted, and he was sucked down into the slow, steady path through miles and miles of intestines.

He had hoped, even as Emma's stomach pounded at his helpless body, that she would size him up, prevent him from passing any further, and throw him up when she was done. He held onto that fading hope even as he slid towards the muscular ring at the bottom of her stomach. But the moment that that ring dilated, and he slid into the fluid and flesh-filled hell of her intestines, all hope was lost.

How long did it take for food to travel through the human body? A day? Two? Maybe it would be even longer for him, his tiny body stubbornly remaining whole amidst the sloshing fluids. He would have thought that her body would barely even notice him at this size, but her intestines continued to suck and squeeze at him, mindless muscle seeking to abosrb whatever it could from him. Thick fluid, rich with the sour taste of half-digested food, filled his mouth as he screamed futilely. Emma's heartbeat pounded its steady, powerful background beat as the msucles of her intestinal tract patiently pushed him further and further into her body. Aaron's fighting spirit wore itself out after the first few hours, but, even as he lay still, feeling the gentle but insistent pulsing of her body, he knew that there was much more left to go. 

And, worst of all, he would live to experience every moment of it.

Emma waited for her little toy to emerge again, cursing her drunken self for swallowing him. Her vague sense of his location wasn't specific enough to tell exactly how far along he was, only that he was still inside her. So every trip to the bathroom was an exercise in false hope.

Her frustration grew with every passing day, along with a nagging fear that she had fucked up by swallowing him at that size. What if her intenstines had been able to absorb him? What if her body had used his tiny body as food and deposited him somewhere inextricable? There'd be no way for her to tell if he was still sliding through her intestines or if he had been trapped in a globule of fat somewhere around her stomach. She tried to shift her mind into his to check up on his progress, but everything was red, hot, and filled with fluid. She couldn't tell what part of her body he was in from that perspective. She wanted to size him up to help find out where he was, but she didn't want to risk injuring herself.

On the morning after day seven, Emma finally felt her shrunken toy leave her body. Half with relief, half with disgust, she recovered the tiny man, sizing him up to twelve inches to aid in cleaning him off. Fortunately, the filth didn't size up with him, so there was actually very little to clean.

When he was clean, Emma set him on the side of the sink so she could wash her own hands. She had debated a lot whether to own her mistake or make it seem like it was something she had done on purpose. If she wanted a healthy, trusting relationship with her little living toy, she had to be honest with him. He would, he already had, seen parts of her that no other man ever could, so how could she be reserved about sharing her mistakes?

On the other hand, her relationship with him wasn't a romantic one between equals. He was, for all intents and purposes, her slave. She wanted him to want to be her slave, but he was still her slave. His mistress had to be infallible, she had to own everything about him and do everything with a purpose in mind.

She eventually decided to make it seem deliberate, mostly because this had been the majority of his time with her. After the first night spent in her stomach, she moved him to her mind, rather than making him endure the torture of being digested for however long it was going to take. She only put him back in his own mind once or twice a day for an hour at a time, just so that he knew exactly what was happening to him, in case she needed to use this as a punishment later.

She never bothered explaining herself to him, and she knew that he was begging to know the answer. But now that his little whole-body tour was over, he stood naked beside the sink, looking up at her expectantly and asking the question without even voicing it. Alright, she thought, flicking off the water with a sigh. Time to play the cruel mistress.

The sink cut off and Aaron felt a quiet thud in the pipes below him. Emma dried her hands quickly, then turned back. She placed her hands on either side of him and leaned over; her brown eyes seemed to stare directly into his soul. She wore no makeup and her hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, but that didn't stop her tight-lipped, half smile from looking absolutely malicious. It took all his strength of will just to meet her eyes.

"Just so you know," she began. That British acccent that he had heard for so long from inside her own head sounded very different now that he was outside her body again. "You didn't do anything wrong. I just wanted to show you what that was like. It wasn't pleasant, was it?"

Aaron finally broke eye contact, letting his gaze fall and shaking his head. "No," he muttered.

"What was that? Speak up, love."

"No," he repeated, louder.

"That's why I didn't make you ride out the whole thing. Just a little taste of it." She giggled, crouching down and folding her arms on the countertop. She rested her chin on her hands and eyed him for a few seconds. "It wasn't a punishment, just a taste of one." She reached out and put a single giant finger under his chin, lifting his gaze to meet hers. Her expression was very serious now, her eyes at a height with his head, "I'd never do that to you. Not unless you make me, understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, mistress."

"Yes... mistress," he repeated. Her finger came away and his gaze fell back down. 

With that, Emma stood back up, and, with a rustling of cloth, peeled off her sweatpants and sweatshirt, revealing just a pair of pink boyshorts underneath. He knew what was there already, he had been in her mind when she put them on the morning before, but he still couldn't help but look. She was an evil bitch, but, God, she was pretty.

She reached into the shower and turned it on, then stripped the boyshorts as well, kicking all the clothes into a pile on the far side of the bathroom. Aaron felt the room start to warm as steam slowly wafted out of the shower, and just watched, appreciating a view that he knew that most people didn't get, as Emma walked around stark naked to discard her scrunchie, let her hair down, grab her towels and place them just outside the shower.

She opened the door, then paused, looking at him. "Well?" she asked.

It took a minute for him to process what she wanted. She wanted him in the shower with her? That was... different. He approached the edge of the sink, and looked down at what felt like a fifty foot fall apprehensively. He looked back up at her to protest, and she cut him off, "It's fine, just jump, you big baby."

That was a hard thing to do, but he forced himself to do it, hearing the sternness in her voice and afraid to anger her any further. He hit the ground with a thud and collapsed facefirst onto the cold tiles. He heard her stifle a giggle, but it didn't really hurt. He struggled up to his feet and started walking towards the shower, breaking out into a jog when he saw her eyebrows raise impatiently.

He had to climb over the lip into the shower, the green tiles at about waist height for him, and then he scurried over into a corner where the water wouldn't be striking him directly. The water flowing over the tiles and into the drain was at ankle height for him, but he had to fight against it in certain places to keep from getting swept off his feet.

Emma followed him in and shut the door, trapping the heat and steam in and making everything echo. Aaron looked up at her from midway up her ankle, admiring the jiggling of her ass that came with every little step.

"So you understand," she said, as she soaked herself down and started to shower. Hot water bouncing off her body struck him as a fine haze, but it felt like a shower all of his own. "My panties, my bra, my pussy, they're the best places I can keep you. It's not a punishment if I shrink you down and tuck you up under my clit, it's just normal."

Aaron had to dodge her foot as she turned around to grab her shampoo; she wasn't even looking down at him. She just left it unsaid that it was his responsibility to keep from getting caught underfoot, and, if he failed, that was his problem.

"If I give you the chance to please me," she continued. "You take it. You should want those chances, even if you don't like being in my panties now. So letting you into my mind isn't a reward, it may just be because I'm tired of masturbating.

"If I punish you, you'll know it, and you'll know why. Having sex with me, being allowed to walk around my apartment, joining me in the shower like this, those are rewards."

A sudden deluge of soapy water struck him like a brick wall, driving him to his back. Before he could get back up, Emma's foot swung around and landed right on his upper body. All her weight settled down on him immediately, and he kicked and squirmed, but she acted for all the world like she didn't even notice. Jesus, this was a reward?

He could still hear her booming voice, though. "So enjoy it while it lasts. In case you didn't know, this is just a 'thank you' for enduring that little trip through my intestines. You had to see what it was like eventually, and you have been good enough not to really deserve it."

Her foot lifted up, and he quickly scampered to safety before it came back down. He heard a thud, and Emma muttered, "Fuck." He was just barely able to notice that she had dropped the bar of soap before she dropped into a deep crouch to recover it. Her ass came down on him faster than he could believe, and drove right down on his head, knocking him down. When she stood back up, she shifted her foot, sweeping up a huge wave of water that carried him helplessly across the slick tiles to the drain.

He lay there on his back, looking up at her body from between her legs. It was an unflattering perspective, staring up at where her thighs met her hips, the fold of her ass and the brown wrinkle of her labia. It wasn't pleasant, either, as water ran down her body and dripped from her crotch directly on to him. But it was probably the safest. Who stepped on their shower drain on purpose? 

Aaron stood back up, noticing with disgust the tangle of red hair that was on top of the drain. At least here he could get a secondhand shower from the soapy water that dripped off her body.

"I've got a few things to do today, so you're coming with me once I dry off," she continued. "My boyfriend is out of town, so you know what to do. I might let you out when we get home if you're good."

The sound of running water came to an abrupt stop when Emma shut off the shower. Then, either by accident or out of malice, her foot swiped Aaron hard, knocking him clear out of the shower and onto the cold, tiled floor of the bathroom. As Emma grabbed a towel and dried herself off, the drops of water that flew off her body hit him like cannonballs, driving him helplessly to the ground. Aaron tried to struggle to his feet, find a safe place from the routine of the giantess' life, but every move she made seemed deliberately intended to torture him. Eventually, her right foot kicked him clear across the room, and his chaotic tumble only came to a stop when her left foot came down on his chest. He was pinned, helpless, as the full weight of her body pressed down on the ball of her foot. 

Aaron looked up, gasping under the pressure, at the beautiful shape of the giantess' body. The pale, well-muscled flesh of her thighs leading to the gentle curves of her ass. The spread of her legs protecting the wrinkled brown skin of her lasbia. A thought flashed through his head; what would it be like to be jammed up in that hot, sensual mess; and it was immediately suppressed by disgust. He had already spent days under the torture of Emma's genitals, how could he lust for more?

Both the question and the answer was immaterial. Emma bent down and snatched Aaron from underneath her foot. The sudden release of pressure left him gasping, but it only lasted a few seconds as she straightened up and led his tiny body between her legs. He didn't even have the time to catch his breath before he was rocketing towards the heat of her crotch. 

Before he knew what was happening, his back was pressed against the hot flesh of her pussy. Her middle two fingers supported the weight of his body, and the rest of the fingers on that hand were drawn back in preparation for what came next. Struggling did nothing, but his instincts would not be denied. His hands gripped her fingers futilely, and his legs kicked under the false impression that there was anything he could do to stop the next step.

He had a split-second view from between her legs, the expanse of her thighs reaching down to the ground far below. It was the view he imagined her clit enjoyed every day. He could get used to seeing the world from that perspective, but he knew already that he would have to endure much, much worse from Emma before he would see that sight again.

Suddenly, her middle two fingers slammed against his chest, and he was driven ass-first into her vagina. The bright, airy sight of the world outside was replaced with an oppressive universe of heat, flesh, and wet. Every move he made was accompanied by the pounding of the giantess' heartbeat; the squelching of lubricant against flesh was the only noise that could overwhelm the rapid thud-thud of the giantess' heart.

Aaron was folded in half like a dollar bill, the pressure of the giantess' pussy squeezing him together harder than he knew they were capable of, and bending his body further than he knew he was capable of. His head was between his legs, something he had never done by himself, but at least it didn't hurt. God only knew what contortions his body had undergone when he had been trapped between Emma and her lover when they had sex, but this incredible expression of flexibility was the first that had lasted long enough for him to appreciate. If he could have bent over any more, he'd have been able to suck his own dick, which was, against his better judgement, painfully hard right now.

That was something that had been a constant lately. Maybe the profound sense of intimacy with the giantess was more significant than the helplessness he felt as her toy. Maybe it was the voyeurism of the routine sight of the most private parts of her body, or maybe it was just the hormonal overload of being forced to taste her pussy day in, day out. But his dick had been hard for the last few weeks even though he had felt no desire to relieve himself. Release had come on its own through various ways, including the impossible extreme of Emma taking control of his body and using him to fuck herself.

But his body seemed to be so much hornier than he was. He sought not sexual release but just a way to make himself more comfortable. The blood was pooling in his head, making the noisy rushing of the blood in his ears almost as loud as the distinct thud-thud­ of the giantess' heartbeat. But the worst part was that he didn't have near the strength to right himself. He was able to get his arms underneath him, but just pushing up far enough that he could bend his body straight up felt like trying to right himself when there was an elephant sitting on him.

After about five minutes, Emma rewarded his efforts with a quick squeeze of her pelvic muscles, which slammed his face against the opposite wall of her vagina and left him gasping with exhaustion, more fluid than air sliding down his throat with every breath. Aaron stopped trying to right himself, enduring the torture of her everyday motion instead. The booming of her heart pulsed the walls around him, every step she took shook him left and right, and his entire world was run through with oppressive heat, overwhelming stench, and a seemingly endless source of salty bodily fluids.

He couldn't enjoy any of it like she said he should, but he knew that, eventually, she would want something else. She would probably use him as a sex toy, and he could endure those few minutes to earn a new, more comfortable position. In all likelihood, he wouldn't be stuck like this for more than a day, and that was something that he could endure.

Something inside him rebelled against that line of thought. That was what she wanted, he told himself. She wanted him to break, to become used to the torture of being stuck inside her body. If he came to view even one of his experiences inside her as favorable, she had won. He had to fight constantly, regardless of the consequences, and eventually he would know freedom.

That realization reenergized him, and he started to squirm. Basically all he could accomplish in his position was a very aggressive massaging of the walls around him, but it was enough to get the giantess' attention. Emma punished him with a brief squeeze of her pelvic muscles, but he had the will to wait until the pressure had passed to keep struggling. The third contraction that came lasted for a full minute, and he couldn't tell if it was the natural response to his efforts or a willful contraction. But Aaron was confident that continuing to struggle, proving his worth as a human being who didn't deserve to be treated as a sex slave, would turn out well for him in the end. The moment the pressure let up, he started to squirm again. But his freedom, such as it was, only lasted for a few more minutes.

Before he knew it, Emma's gigantic fingers dug into her vagina. Her middle two fingers forced themselves between him and the fleshy walls. She pulled him out in a flash, and, free from the pressure of her pelvic muscles, he unfolded into a wet, overheated mess in her palm, coughing up bodily fluids and taking his first desperate breaths of fresh air.

"You almost got me there. I guess you took my advice to heart," she said in a low whisper. Amidst the shock of being reintroduced to the outside world, Aaron was just barely able to process his surroundings. He was in a public bathroom, it seemed, and Emma sat on a toilet with her pants and underwear around her ankles. What advice was she talking about? Was it that one-sided conversation in the shower? He had spent the entire time trying not to get crushed underfoot, he hadn't really been paying attention to her dominatrix monologue.

She drew her face closer to her hand, or her hand closer to her face; it was hard to tell at this size. All he knew was that the pale skin, lightly-dusted freckles, and penetrating brown eyes of her face grew to a terrifying scale. There was a hunger in her eyes, and a half-grin below them. She chewed on her lower lip contemplatively for a second, then said, "I have an idea. You're not gonna like it much, though."

Aaron was terrified that Emma would swallow him alive, but what came next surprised him. Emma lifted her ass off the toilet seat and bent down into a deep crouch. As she shifted him around in her hand, he didn't realize that she had been playing with his size until he was fully six inches tall. 

He didn't realize her plan until he felt his feet pressed up against her asshole. He tried to struggle but he was fighting against the strength of a fist that was a hundred times stronger than he was. Before he knew it, his body was consumed by her anus up to his waist. Her grip shifted on his tiny body, and another thrust pushed him all the way down to his chest. Only the spread of his arms kept him from sinking any further in. 

Her hand drew away, but she stayed in the deep crouch. Aaron could feel the slimy heat of the giantess' colon enveloping his body to his chest. The massive bulk of her buttcheeks threatened to consume him the moment she stood up, and there was nothing he could do to escape it. The stink of shit was overwhelming, even worse than the fishy stench he endured while stuck under her vagina. 

"Don't move too much unless I say," the giantess' voice echoed down from far above. "Or you're going all the way in."

With that, Emma stood up, and the muscular flesh of her buttcheeks clamped down on Aaron's head. Only the breadth of his shoulders kept him from getting sucked all the way into her colon, but her ass still closed down with a predatory will on him. His thin view of the outside world narrowed to nothing as the giantess' ass pressed down on his upper body. And even that narrow sliver darkened as she pulled up her underwear, then her pants.

The extra pressure of her pants pressed her ass cheecks down even harder on him. Every step she took was torture. The gentle swaying of her hips was nauseating enough when he was sheltered inside her, but now her ass cheeks clenched against him every time her foot hit the ground, and jiggled spasmodically when her foot lifted.

It was like her ass was trying to chew him alive. The muscle on one side flexed hard, forcing him mercilessly into the other one, which bounced like jell-o before clenching without warning and shoving him back.

He had no doubt it would have been a nice thing to watch from the outside, but, from here, the almost-rhythm of the motion was pure chaos. The heat and the stench was overwhelming, and the pressure exerted on him by the flexing muscles felt like being crushed under a steamroller. A steamroller that rolled over his back, then his front, then his back, alternating over and over again forever.

To make matters worse, he constantly had to fight just a little bit to keep from sinking further in. Every time she took a step, he slid an inch or so into her anus, and, if he didn't push his way back out immediately, the next step would have forced his arms over his head and he would have completely lost his leverage.

He wasnt confident that Emma wouldn't have enjoyed having him lost all the way up her ass, but it was absolutely the last thing he wanted to happen. So he put all his focus on staying out, however torturous the innocuous routine of her walking was, and trying to move as little as was required to keep his head out of her asshole.

God, how long was this supposed to last?

This was not the first time that Emma had been in public with a butt plug, so she was a bit surprised that it had taken this long for it to occur to her that the little man would make a perfect one. It wasn't quite the vibrant stimulation of a vibrating plug, but she could feel his squirming and it was just as good, especially knowing that it was the struggles of a tiny man trying to keep from getting sucked up into her asshole.

After thoroughly inspecting herself in the mirror to make sure that nothing showed, she left, feeling quite satisfied with herself. Just a quick trip to the grocery store and back, she promised the little man silently. See if you can hold on that long. She'd have to think of things to do with him when she got home; an hour or so with a living buttplug would get her pretty worked up. 

Interesting fact: there was an entire subreddit devoted to her bum, which was flattering in a voyeuristic kind of way. She had a pretty firm policy against nudity, but that didn't stop the creeps from salivating over every angle they could find of her. She wondered how many of the perverts would switch places with her little toy if they had the opportunity. She could, but she didn't particularly want to, at least not yet.

Maybe when they got back. An idea of how she could use the little man started to form in her head, and she was getting horny enough that it sounded like damn good fun.

As she walked around, feeling the little man's continued struggles against her ass, she guessed with a mental shrug that she really couldn't judge the creepers. They might like looking at her ass, but she had a human being trapped inside hers at Aldi's. That was a level of sexual perversion way above a bit of celebrity porn.

She didn't even realize that the gentle tickling was making her flex her pelvic muscles involuntarily until the tenth or so time that it had happened. When she finally noticed, she had to stifle a giggle. That had to be painful for him. Just for fun, she stood straight and clenched her asscheeks together, as hard as she could.

He struggled quite a lot when she let go, and she giggled again, and carried on with her shopping. The only time she had to really worry about him was when she got into the car, taking care how she sat down so that her weight didn't push him all the way inside her. Then, during the twenty-minute drive home, she slowly shifted her weight so that more and more of it was pressing down on his head, feeling his struggle to stay free intensify. It was like turning the vibration on high.

The very first thing she did when she got home was strip herself completely naked to give the little man some air to breathe. Then, as she started putting the groceries away, she said, loud enough for him to hear down there, "We're going to switch spots, okay, love? Kick a little if you can hear me."

She felt the dull pressure inside her as he kicked his legs, and she smiled. "I want to enjoy a little bit of what you've enjoyed, so you're gonna take over up here and I'll take over down there. Sound good?"

He didn't respond for a second, then she felt him kick again. She gave him a playful squeeze and giggled. "Don't do anything that would make me punish you, okay? Remember, I can check in any time."

She let him into her mind in preparation for giving him control, then a thought occurred. "Oh, and, one last thing. If you shove me all the way in there, the game's over. You can stew in there yourself."

Emma gave him control and switched to her mind. The assault on her senses was overwhelming, exactly what she had hoped for. She couldn't masturbate as him or risk sliding in, so she waited to see what her little toy would do now that the roles were reversed.

Suddenly, he was Emma Watson. In the few seconds he had before the transition, he thought of every way possible that he could use the opportunity to escape his situation, but every single one of those could be stopped before he even hit the door. Even so, this was the first and best chance he got to escape this ridiculous life as her sex toy.

But the shock of the transition, the moment he turned into her, made him forget about that for a moment. He was compelled suddenly to learn his way around his new body, feel its strength and its shape. He had spent plenty of time behind Emma's eyes; able to experience everything she did but unable to control it; so he was familiar with the weight and rhythms of her body. But he had never had the chance to inspect her this way; even when she looked in a mirror, he couldn't control the focus of her eyes.

He raised his... her... right arm, marveling at how light, how thin, how almost fragile it seemed. His left hand ran up her thigh, fingers playing across the smooth skin and gentle curve, gripping her ass briefly just to feel how it felt. It didn't really have the erotic thrill he expected. 

He cupped one of her breasts, looking down in fascination as he gently squeezed it and ran a thumb over the nipple. It stiffened almost immediately, and he felt a shiver, a gently whispered promise of ecstasy, wash up and down her body. That was the thrill he had been expecting, and a subtle but insistent voice in the back of his head rose up, demanding satisfaction. He instinctively knew how to get it, too, but he suppressed the urge. He didn't have time for that.

He had to figure out how to escape. He didn't know how long he had, but it wasn't long. Emma was in his body, apparently either perverted or horny enough to enjoy the experience that had been his torture for the last few hours, but she could get tired of it any moment and steal control back from him without warning. She could even be watching him right now, making sure he didn't do anything like exactly what he was planning to do.

Jesus, could she read his mind? She hadn't given any indication that she could yet, but he was thinking her own thoughts in her brain, and she was in his mind. He didn't know the specifics of her powers, nor did he really know that much about biology, but that uncertainty left him scared. 

There was no way to help it. If she could read his mind, she was either playing with him or would have shut him down already. In either case, he had to figure out what to do, and fast.

He had to distract her, that was the key. Do something that make her want to stay in his body. He could feel the pressure inside him; even the subtle motion of her struggling to keep from sinking further in was a strong, highly sensual feeling. That was when the most obvious choice in the world occurred to him.

He ran her left hand between her legs and slowly started to massage, rubbing her fingers in circles until he closed in on the spot, and a gentle spike of pleasure made him gasp suddenly.

If she let him keep doing this, it meant that she wanted to ride it out in his body, or so he hoped. He was slow, trying to keep a clear head as the pleasure became more pronounced and the lust more insistent. He needed some way to get a message to the outside world in a surreptitious way.

There, a stack of sticky notes on top of the refrigerator. He grabbed one and the pen that was next to it, trying to click the pen as quietly as possible. He even let out a little moan to cover the noise. He wrote his note and quickly put everything back.

She hadn't stolen control from him yet, so she didn't notice, but he had to put the note somewhere where she wouldn't find it, but her boyfriend would. The bedroom was across the apartment; that was the best spot, he figured, since she always slept on the same side of the bed. So, still rubbing her clit, he made his way quickly to the bedroom and crashed onto the bed.

Slipping the note underneath his pillow, he leaned back, tilting her hips up so he wouldn't smother his own body underneath his ass, then gave completely into the building lust.

He alternated between massaging her clit and fingering her, aggressively seeking more and more pleasure instead of savoring the rise to orgasm like she did. He had been behind her eyes when she masturbated before, and the pleasure that her body gave her was like nothing he had ever experienced as a man. But being in control of it was a totally different animal. Feeling the penetration but not being able to control it had an uncomfortable similarity to being raped, but now he could lie back and enjoy it thoroughly.

The sensation of his body struggling in her asshole was electrifying, too; he could totally understand why she had done it. He could feel his body in her ass through the wall of her vagina, and tried not to let the thought of being back in his own mind spoil the mood.

She came in about five minutes, and he lost everything to the pleasure. Her entire body seized up, desperate gasps escaping her lips, her back arcing and her pelvic muscles squeezing almost painfully hard. It was incredible. It could have lasted five seconds or five hours; in that moment, he had no concept of time.

When he came down enough to control her body again, he tried starting again, going back for the clit before her muscles had stopped clenching. But it was far too sensitive. He couldn't even touch it without gasping, so he just lay back, face flushed and breathing heavy, as he rode the steadily-declining wave of pleasure.

Suddenly, he could no longer control her breathing, and he knew immediately that she had locked him out. "Wow," she said aloud. "That was so fucking hot. I'm glad you had fun, but you didn't let me get any." 

She rolled over onto her side and bent one of her legs up. She reached behind her and grabbed his tiny body by the arms, pulling him out of her asshole. He was tickled for a moment by how much the sensation felt like taking a shit, and was surprised when he heard the tail end of a giggle escape her lips.

He was in control again? He rolled over and saw himself standing there, a full six feet tall again, stark naked, hands on hips, and with a raging erection. He eyed her... himself, for a moment, confused, until his own body said, in a British accent that seemed wildly out of place, "Well, go on then, suck it."

What the fuck? What kind of twisted shit was that? A tremendous range of conflicting emotions ran through his head, not the least of which was disgust. He had never even thought about sucking his own dick before, but now he had to do it as Emma Watson? 

The only comfort was that it was far from the most disgusting thing she had done to him thus far, and, when he was done, she would be left with the taste of cock in her mouth, not him. Slowly, reluctantly, he brought her body up to his, and she took a step back, forcing him to get off the bed and onto his knees. He gave himself one last look, and his face just raised its eyebrows pointedly. 

Think of it as getting a blowjob from Emma Watson, he told himself. You can even make the bitch swallow. Wondering how the hell his life had gotten to this point, he wrapped her mouth around his own cock, trying not to gag at the salty, fleshy taste.

Just get it over with. He started sucking, licking the shaft up and down, fondling the balls, trying as hard as he could to do it without opening her eyes. He tried every trick he could think of, but there was no way he was good at this. What guy possibly could have been?

The only silver lining was that, after being worked up for so long, his own body barely lasted two minutes. His body groaned above him, and the flex of his own cock and sudden shoot of sperm into the back of her throat took him by surprise. He forced himself to swallow it as quick as possible, slurping down as much as he could before she recovered from the orgasm and took control again. 

It was disgusting and slimy, but not anything he hadn't experienced tiny already. At least this was some small bit of revenge. As he felt his cock go limp in her mouth, he lost control again, and Emma stood up and stepped back. He watched through her eyes as his body rapidly shrunk, and she wiped her mouth. "I was wondering if you'd swallow. You must like the taste more than I thought."

Before he knew it, he was back in his own body, barely four inches tall and staring at a giantess as she straightened her hair miles above him. "I get why guys like that so much," she said, bending down and grabbing him. She didn't even care to look at him. "You don't have to do anything."

Without delay or preamble, she shoved him headfirst into her vagina. The cool, bright air of the outside world transitioned into the heat, pressure, and fluids of her body in a way that he had experienced a hundred times. It still never ceased to be an assault on his senses so profound that his body started to involuntarily struggle, some deep-seated instinct that told him that he was being swallowed and had to fight with his life to escape.

There was no escape, though, and his struggles ceased in seconds. He could never fight against the strength of her body at this size. But now was different, now there was a sliver of hope. A tiny seed planted that, if he was lucky, would blossom into freedom at last.  

He could only hope that she didn't find out too soon.

Emma couldn't help but resent her toy for having swallowed, because now cum was all she could taste. She supposed it was her own fault, in a way; she hadn't told him not to; and she couldn't really tell if he was trying to take the initiative and make it hot or trying to get revenge. With that uncertainty, she didn't feel comfortable punishing him for it. After all, it was kinda hot.

But mouthwash still seemed like a good idea. It still surprised her a bit that the first thing he had done when in control of her body was start masturbating. He had done well, too. She could still feel the warm afterglow of a deep, satisfying orgasm. But, holy hell, experiencing it from the perspective of her tiny toy had been something else.

Her body did things that she wasn't even aware of. She never guessed that the simple act of walking would batter him so severely when he was trapped in her ass. She never knew that a gentle flexing of her pelvic muscles would clench her asshole so tight; every contraction had hit her so hard down there that it had driven the air out of her lungs, leaving her seeing spots with blood pounding in her ears. 

And, Jesus Christ, masturbation was something else. She had never given a thought to the little motions of her body as the pleasure built and the climax came, but, from that perspective, they were terrifying. Her hips rocked back and forth, pressing him down with every pass so that she had to fight with all his strength to keep from getting sucked into her own asshole. Her ass cheeks clenched hard, squeezing him with the force of a steamroller until his lungs burned for air. And when she came, her asshole clamped down with a will, as if it was trying to chop him in half while, at the same time, it tried to suck him all the way in.

Fuck, it was hot. Even if she hadn't been able to cum while in his body, it was totally worth it. There was so much potential in trading places with him, too. She could ride it out as a speck of dust between her fingers while she rubbed herself off, she could see firsthand what a dildo saw as she masturbated. She could even be trapped microscopic between herself and her boyfriend as they fucked. 

One sexy experience after another crossed her mind, but they would all have to wait. Most of them required more trust than she had in her toy. For now, though, she knew that her little toy had probably tried some desperate escape gambit while he was in her body. She just had to figure out what it was.

She checked the time. Her boyfriend would be coming home in an hour or so, and she was still feeling a bit kinky. Her little, squirming toy stuck deep in her pussy was an afterthought, but still enough sensation to keep the embers hot. She took a shower, popped one of her birth control pills, then slowly fished her little toy out of her vagina.

"Hey, little guy," she said, letting him slowly shrink down even further. "Sorry to bother you. You ready for a real ride?"

By the time she finished speaking, he was only a dot in her palm, barely a millimeter tall. She shifted her finger around, until he was a black speck on her middle finger, then lifted her right leg up onto the sink. 

"We're going to have a lot of fun," she said to nothing, knowing that he could still hear her. Then, without further preamble, she pushed her middle finger into her asshole, only up to the first knuckle.

Oh, this was going to be fun. She put on a pair of boyshorts and a clingy white T-shirt; she knew what got her boyfriend going; and she was waiting for him on the couch when he got home.

A few glasses of wine and an episode of Game of Thrones later, she wasn't really sure what had happened, but she did remember that it wound up with her on her hands and knees, ass in the air, telling her boyfriend, "Fuck me in the ass!"

The wine was really getting to her. Her last coherent thought, as she felt her boyfriend's cock slide carefully into her asshole, was that the tiny man was gonna love this.

Aaron hated everything that was happening to him. The moment he was shoved up Emma's asshole he hated it. The only way it was like her vagina was the pink color of the walls around him, but that was where the similarities ended. The ridges of the walls that surrounded him were gigantic and spread far apart. He was between two of them, in a cavernous space that was larger than anything he had experienced in her cunt.

He could just barely see her asshole from here, a tight, puckered opening that twitched impatiently with every step she took. If he had been able to free himself from the slime that held him fast to the smooth walls, he would have fallen down right on top of it.

There was, at least, room to breathe here, but that just made it worse. The air was rank with the stench of shit, and tiny flakes of it, no bigger than he was, scattered the walls here and there. He could just count himself lucky that he wound up stuck to a relatively clean part of the giantess' colon.

The massive, fleshy tunnel, five times larger than he was tall, twisted out of his view far above him. He knew that the rest of her intestines lay in that direction, and he could only wait in fear of what would come down that path for him. Maybe, if he was lucky, she would pull him out before things got really disgusting.

Suddenly, gravity shifted, and the giantess' asshole was above him instead of below him. Were it not for the clingy slime that coated his body, he would have tumbled down even deeper into her colon. Before he could process what was happening, the wrinkled opening to her asshole parted to admit the purple head of the most massive cock he had ever seen.

Oh no. Oh God no. He struggled, but even if he managed to free himself from the sticky walls, where could he go? Down was towards her intestines, up was towards the giant's cock.

He didn't have much choice in the matter, though. Emma's colon may have been gigantic to him, but it hugged her boyfriend's dick tight. Slowly, it pushed its way in. Slowly, it shoved its massive, pulsating bulk against his face. Slowly, it dragged him from his relatively safe spot and shoved him deeper, deeper, deeper in.

But then it started to pull out. He got caught underneath the head and ground mercilessly between the inside of her asshole and the rock-hard body of his cock before he finally rolled out from underneath it. He was deposited somewhere near where he had been originally, watching as the giant penis slowly drew out of Emma's ass.

But that wasn't it. Of course it wasn't. The man's dick drew all the way out of her asshole, but the wrinkled opening didn't squeeze all the way shut this time. Instead, Aaron got treated to a view of the man's package, his dick quivering and balls swaying, before he came plunging back in.

This time, he was not so gentle. He drove himself into her like he was drilling for oil. Aaron was carried along helplessly, his body twisted and squeezed and whipped back and forth over and over again. The thick layer of water-based lubricant that coated the man's cock made sure that he would never really escape this torture. The giant could drive as deep in as he liked, but the sticky fluid would make sure that Aaron would follow along as he pulled out, just to get rammed again as he made another thrust.

Aaron was just about to accept that this was his fate now, to be ground eternally between Emma's colon and her boyfriend's penis, before it finally ended. After what felt like an hour, the man came, but he was unfortunate enough to be stuck right to the tip of his penis when he did. The first shot, a deluge of sperm that shoved its way past his closed mouth and up his nose, was powerful enough to push him deeper into Emma's body than he had ever been. And he watched, through a murky white haze, as the cock flexed a few more times, pushing out a few more waves of sperm that just drove him further and further down.

Then, when he was so far down that he could barely even see it, the cock pulled all the way out, leaving him helpless in a sea of sperm somewhere deep in Emma's colon.

God, just stand up, please, just stand up, he begged. The woman must still have had her ass in the air, because gravity pulled him, and the stream of cum that he was helplessly trapped in, steadily further down. Eventually, the curve of her colon hid her asshole from view, and that was when he lost all hope. He was doomed to stay in here until she took a shit big enough to force him out.

But then gravity did shift, and not in a terribly favorable way, either. Suddenly, neither the path into or out of her was up or down. A thin rivulet of cum ran down the side of her colon, carrying him along until he settled in an opaque white pool. She had laid down, he realized. Jesus, was she going to leave him here all night?

The unbearably salty taste of the man's cum mixed with the unbearably rancid odor of the woman's colon. She couldn't leave him here all night, could she? He had to be able to get out of this. He struggled, but, at this size, fighting against the man's semen was like fighting against Jell-O. Eventually, he tired himself out, laying back and breathing deep breaths of hot, slimy bodily fluids. 

Fuck her. Fuck her, he thought. At least he had that note, the tiny sliver of hope that was his best and last chance of escaping this hell.

It was all that kept him going all night. The world around him was too hot, too smelly, too overwhelming to all his senses for him to really get comfortable. He just listened to the steady rhythm of the giantess' heartbeat and waited, waited, waited.

He may have dozed off towards the end, but it was suddenly interrupted by a dramatic increase in his size. Before he was even fully awake, he felt the giantess' colon squeezing him from all sides. The ridges that seemed cavernous were now uncomfortably tight. Instead of an ocean, the giant's cum was just another uncomfortable layer of fluid. And, most importantly, he could see the exit.

It was tight again; neither air nor light from the outside world was let in, but it was there. Slowly, he started to crawl towards it. He saw it flex, twitching involuntarily at the sensation of him moving along, but nothing stopped him. Clawing at the slippery walls and kicking desperately, he made his way along inch by inch until he was face-to-face with the giantess' asshole. He was working with gravity this time, maybe it was his chance to escape. He shoved his hand out, looking for the leverage he needed to get out, and was surprised to feel her massive fingers grab his wrist.

What little hope he had turned into despair in the pit of his stomach. The giantess took a firm grip on his wrist and slowly pulled him all the way out. The cool feeling of fresh air slowly consumed his body from head to toe, and the light outside was blinding. Before he could process what as happening, Emma had him dangling in front of her face, still held up by the wrist. In her other hand, she held the sticky note he had left under her boyfriend's pillow.

"What is this?" she demanded, her eyes blazing.

Oh, fuck.



Emma had gotten lucky. When her boyfriend was done with her, he took off to the shower, and she pulled her boyshorts back up and stumbled her drunken ass to bed, sprawling out across the sheets and letting out a happy sigh.

It was only then, when her hand found its way under her boyfriend's pillow, that she found the sticky note. She realized immediately what it was the moment she felt it, before she even pulled it out to read it, and it was the most sobering realization of her life. She froze, but the shower was still running; she was safe.

Her heart was suddenly racing. Jesus, five more minutes and she would have been doomed. She pulled out the note, it was short and in quick, sloppy handwriting, almost illegible despite the block letters.

"SHE SHRANK ME. USING ME AS SEX TOY. HELP"

She was torn, still terrified of how close she had come to having her crime unveiled, furious at the little man for doing this, but honestly a little impressed that he had managed to pull it off without her notice. He had only been in charge of her body for a few minutes, after all, and she thought he had just spent all that time masturbating.

She quickly folded up the note and stuck it under the mattress on her side of the bed. At that moment, she heard the shower cut off, and she practically had a heart attack. A bit jumpy, perhaps, but fuck... She had come only a few minutes away from losing everything. She didn't know what the punishment was for having a shrunken slave, but she knew that her boyfriend would not go along with it if he found out.

She had to be more careful. She still didn't have the relationship with her toy that she wanted, and, until she did, she couldn't afford to give him that much control. As much as it disappointed her, her role-swap fantasies would have to wait. If she broke things off with her boyfriend, she might have the time and space to build that relationship a little more efficiently, but she wasn't comfortable doing that, at least not yet. He was a good guy; he may have been a short-term fling, but he had a good attitude and a great dick.

She cupped her ass idly, thinking about the man still trapped inside there. Oh yeah, he'd be staying there all night, but he had a way worse punishment in store. Maybe he'd spend a week in her sock, maybe she'd eat him. She'd figure it out, but, more importantly, she had to figure out where to go from here, how to turn him from rebellious slave into willing servant.

From his view, discovery meant rescue. How the hell did she get him from that to the point where he didn't want to be discovered, because it meant he wouldn't get to be with her anymore?

She had shown him trust, at least some, but it was clearly too early for that. She had tried to break him by punishing him, but that only seemed to make him more desperate to escape. Maybe the first step was demonstrating, somehow, that rescue was impossible. Then, once he had accepted the inevitability of his new life, he would eventually teach himself to enjoy it.

She grinned, wiggling her hips contentedly into the mattress. Maybe it was the booze, but she just had an idea, and it was downright villainous. 

Aaron stared at the note, unbelieving. What little hope he had vanished, and a deep fear replaced it. Oh God no, she was going to do terrible things to him for this, things that would make him wish for death even though it would never come. He couldn't meet her angry gaze, and he let his head drop, staring down at the ground far below his dangling feet. He was fucked.

Emma crumpled up the note and tossed it onto the bed, then, in a sudden whirlwind of motion, tossed him after it. The mattress was soft, but the impact still drove the wind out of him. Climbing slowly, miserably to his feet, he looked up at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She was wearing pink boyshorts and a clingy white T-shirt that rode up to expose her midriff. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath, and he could see the dark circles of her nipples through the fabric. Her hair was mussed up from the night before, and she still seemed groggy, maybe even a bit hungover. She stared at him, hands on hips, anger radiating from her tired eyes.

"You didn't think I knew? You've tried this before," she said.

"Wait, what?" he asked, out loud. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to speak now but that statement was so surprising he couldn't help himself.

She rolled her eyes, straightening her hair and tugging down her shirt. "I told you, I own you." She sat down on the bed next to him, and the springs creaked under her weight in a way that they never would under his. She wasn't heavy, but the indentation she put in the mattress was like a pit that he had to struggle from tumbling down into. "I can have your memory wiped any time I like. This is the third time I've done it and this is the fourth time you've tried that little trick."

"No way," he said, again out loud. How could she wipe his memory? Surely, he would have... remembered? No... 

"Yes way," she said, imitating his accent. She giggled, then leaned down towards him. Her face was gigantic, and he could smell the trace of alcohol from then night before on her breath. "After the first few months, you just give up, and that's no fun for either of us. I like it when you have a bit of life in you."

He shook his head, letting his gaze fall again. There was no way for him to know if she was telling the truth, but his gut screamed at him that it was impossible. He would never give up. He would fight until he escaped or she killed him. He couldn't imagine...

She put a single finger under his chin, bigger around than his leg, and lifted his head to look at her. Her massive brown eyes were intelligent and piercing despite the brown circles beneath them. It felt like she was staring into his soul. "If you don't believe me, tell me this. Who are your mum and dad?"

That was easy. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came. He had parents, but he couldn't remember their names, their faces. Were they still together? Did he live with them? His mind started racing. He couldn't remember anything. When was he born? Where did he live? Who had he been before this?

Nothing. He didn't remember anything before waking up in that little metal box. His mouth fell open in shock, and Emma straightened back up, smiling. "You always have a few more tricks you try before you finally break, but this is the first time I've told you the truth," she told him. "This is your life now. We've done all this before and we can do it all again, if you like. Or you can accept it and be the servant you're supposed to be."

He was silent, uncomprehending. What did she know? What else had he tried to do to escape before this? Was this all scripted? Was there anything he could do that she wouldn't anticipate? Dread filled his stomach, heavy to the point of nausea. If she got tired of him, she could just reset him, and he would live forever in a loop of hopeless escape attempts and eventual acceptance of his servitude.

He knew who Emma Watson was, so he had some memory of the time before, but what was the last thing he had seen her in? Harry Potter had come out years ago, and that was the last time he had even thought about her. She looked older, at least he thought she did, but what year was it now? Had he been with her that whole time since the movie came out?

Even if he knew the date, it wouldn't help him. He could have been with her for two years or two weeks. Eventually, if she was telling the truth, he'd be staring up at a woman in her mid-forties, being told the exact same thing and still not believing it, not remembering a single minute of what had come before.

He didn't say anything for a long while, and Emma just looked down at him, a half-grin on her face. God, he hated her, but how long had he hated her for? How many times had he come to accept her? Fuck, this was hurting his head. Every escape plan he could imagine hit a dead end when he realized she had probably seen it all already. What the fuck could he do?

She stood up, and the bed sprang back in a sudden and violent way that knocked him right down on his ass. She kneeled down and rested her chin on the mattress, right in front of him. Her head was taller than he was; all he could think of was how easy it would be for her to open her mouth, snap him up, and swallow him whole. God, she could take control of his body and he would willingly dive into her throat.

"I'll tell you this, you never liked the punishment that came next," she told him. Her hot breath would have knocked him on his ass if he wasn't already down. She grinned at his stunned, terrified look, then stood up. "We'll skip it this time, okay? Come on, let's take a shower." Oh, God, not again. But it was at least better than whatever she had planned for him as punishment. She stood up again and pulled off her shirt, her breasts popping out from underneath it in a very satisfying way as she dragged it over her head. She threw it onto the bed behind him, then paused before she started to strip her underwear. "Well?" she demanded. "Go on, get in there."

He obeyed with only a moment's hesitation, jumping off the bed and making his way at a quick walk towards the shower. He heard the sigh of her panties coming off behind him, then the pounding of her footsteps. Even knowing that he was invincible, the sound filled him with a primal terror, and her right foot came slamming down beside him so hard that he fell over. He looked up as her massive body passed rapidly over him, and stared, captivated, at the jiggle of her ass as she made her way out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

God, he hated her, but that didn't stop her from being hot. It was difficult to appreciate from inside her, and that was where he spent most of his time. But when he got the full view... He felt a tingle in his groin, and had to remind himself sternly that she had told him to get in the shower, and he was lagging behind now. He didn't feel like incurring the punishment he had fortunately dodged, so he got to his feet and ran after her.

She had already turned on the shower when he got there, and was waiting outside, feeling the water and waiting for it to get hot. He scampered up between her legs and quickly hopped over the rim of the shower, scurrying to what he knew was a safe spot over the shower drain. 

The water was aimed at the back wall, but he could feel it. Still lukewarm, but getting hot fast. After a minute or so, she stepped in after him, seeming not even to notice him, and shut the glass door behind her. Again, the sound of the shower became a deafening echo and steam started to fill the space. 

No hair over the shower drain this time, but he was watching the woman's feet. She wasn't quite straddling the drain, just a few inches forward of it, but she shift her feet anytime and he would inevitably wind up trapped under her heel. He looked back and forth between them constantly, looking for any signs of movement to dodge away from.

He heard her let out a contented sigh, and he was suddenly aware of the fact that the water around him was starting to turn a faded yellow. He looked up, and saw  a steady stream of piss flowing from her crotch. 

He could smell it now, heady and thick. Disgusted, he immediately scrambled backwards, away from the water swirling around the drain. He wound up with his back against the wall when she finally finished, then grabbed the shampoo and started to clean herself.

Under the heavy flow of water, the smell of urine dissipated almost immediately. He could see her thighs and the curve of her ass out the corner of his eye, and a horny corner of his mind longed to stare at her, but he knew he had to avoid her feet lest he suffer under her weight. They could move at any time and stomp down on him, and she wouldn't give a shit about it.

So, while he was staring at her feet, he didn't notice what was happening above him. She ran her hands through her hair to rinse it out, and a wave of water came washing down, striking him right in the head and driving him to the ground. He was carried with the water towards the drain, and, just before he reached it, she moved a bit to grab the soap, and her right foot came crashing down on top of him.

He saw it coming down, and the curse that he was about to utter was cut short when all the air was driven out of his lungs by the weight of her entire body. He was trapped head to toe beneath the arch of her foot, the pounding of his own blood in his ears overwhelming even the sound of the shower. 

Every second under this massive weight was torture, but, before his lungs started to burn for air, she lifted her foot, and he scrambled on his hands and knees back to her shower drain. He chanced a glance away from her feet, and saw her scrubbing at her skin with a washcloth, leaving behind foamy soap that was immediately washed away by the water.

He sighed unhappily. Just five, ten minutes, he told himself. Enjoy the chance to clean yourself off and try to stay out from underneath her feet. Then you can go back to living with whatever sexual torture she dreamed up next.

He looked down and saw that he was hard. God dammit. Sure, she was hot, but what the hell would you even do to her if you had the chance, he asked himself. He would have to use his entire body to please her, and he already knew how much of a miserable experience that was. Why did he let this get him so aroused?

Dare he risk it? He looked up at Emma, staring at her body from a perspective that absolutely nobody in the world got to enjoy. That tight, wrinkly slit of her vulva may have been the source of all his misery, but it was a hell of a thing to see. Hoping to get it over with quick, he wrapped his hand around his dick and started jerking off, drinking in every detail of her body and fantasizing about wrecking that pussy with his cock as a full-size human.

To his surprise, she started to masturbate as well. With the washcloth in her left hand running steady circles over her tits, her right hand found its way between her legs and started massaging her clit. 

Oh yeah, that was it. He stared at the giant hand, pressing the soft flesh of her crotch in every direction, and kept jerking off, determined to finish as fast as he could.

She gasped, leaning forward with her hand against the shower wall, and he came. His tiny squirt of semen was washed away by the shower water almost instantly, and the brief moment of pleasure lasted just long enough for her to cum as well. As the clarity and mild disgust that followed masturbation washed over him, he heard her choking scream, and watched her hand freeze in place, her legs quivering.

That was pathetic, he realized. Masturbating to the sight of his torturer, the woman who owned his life so completely that she could control his fucking memories. But at least she hadn't seemed to notice. He shifted his gaze back to her feet, and almost dove out of the way as she moved, but she was just bringing her legs a bit closer together, apparently having recovered from her orgasm.

He managed to avoid getting crushed beneath her feet until she cut off the water. When she opened the door and stepped out of the shower, her right heel hit him right in the head, and he was bowled over, sliding all the way to the far edge of the shower. It was a blow that should have killed him, he knew, but immortality was his curse. Now fully out of the shower, she grabbed a towel and started to dry off.

No such luxury for him. He'd have to air-dry. He hurried after her, though she had left the door wide open with no indication of shutting it. He clambered over the lip of the shower and landed on the tile floor of the bathroom, his wet feet slipping out from underneath him and slamming him down on his ass again.

She didn't notice or didn't care. She finished drying off and wrapped the towel around her torso, then grabbed another towel and started to twist it around her hair. 

Nothing to do now but wait, he supposed. He climbed back up onto unsteady, slippery feet, and fell right back down again when he shrank abruptly to a tenth of his size. 

Each tile was a continent now, the grout between them a massive canyon. He could have run at a full clip for an entire day and not reach the bathroom door. Clearly, she had a plan for him, and he was sure that he wouldn't like it.

He stared up at a godess of infinite size, a towel wrapped around her body and another piled up on top of her head, as she bent down and pressed her middle finger against him, driving him facefirst into the tile. For a brief moment, it felt like being crushed underneath a steamroller, then she pulled up and he clung to the thin layer of water on her fingertip. The motion as she picked him up was dizzying in scale, miles passed in mere seconds, the ground beneath him receding at a terrifying pace, but he was still trapped by the ridges of her fingerprint and the surface tension of the water. 

She didn't bother explaining herself, and why should she? He was a toy, her property. He'd better come to accept that now; at least then he could retain his memories. If he didn't just totally give up, and if he didn't keep rebelling, he might stand a chance. If he pretended to be her willing toy, to try and please her at every turn, he might get the chance to escape.

The world whipped by too fast for him to follow. Suddenly, he found himself between her legs. Her left hand had spread her vulva open for him, and the pink flesh ringed with the wrinkly brown of her labia rocketed towards him with terrifying speed. With the quick dexterity of a spider preparing its meal, she tucked him up underneath a fold at the very top of her vulva.

Her finger came away, and he remained clung to a thin layer of vaginal lubricant like the speck of dust he was. It was hot, even hotter than the shower, and he was so small that he could feel her flesh quivering with every heartbeat at his back. Then her left hand pulled away too, and his view of the outside world vanished as her labia snapped back together. Everything was flesh now, smooth flesh and suffocating heat, the smell of soap mingling with the fishy scent of her genitals, the fluid that he couldn't escape washing down his throat and filling his mouth with the same taste. 

It took a minute for him to process where he was, but he recognized the smooth nub of pink flesh beside him. She had tucked him up underneath her clitoral hood, and he was trapped between her labia and the clitoris. The tiny organ was larger than he was; if she had had a piercing, it would have been as big around as his entire body. Even if he kicked, bit, and scratched with everything he had, he doubted the sensation would do anything but get her horny, if it even registered with her at all.

If he had been a bit bigger, it would have been a position of power. He would have been able to bring her to orgasm at any time, and she would have to race to the bathroom or risk cumming in public. But now it was just humiliation. He could practically hear her cute British accent telling him, "Go ahead and try, you can't do anything to me I won't want you to."

God, she was right. This was his life now, wasn't it? He pushed at the giant bulb of her clitoris angrily, but, as he expected, he didn't even get so much as a twitch in response. He didn't even have the strength to really earn any leverage against the pressure of her labia against his body. 

He just had to remember. Keep the fight alive. Freedom meant doing what she asked, pretending to be the slave she wanted. He had to pretend like he wanted it, like he enjoyed it, and eventually he could turn around and make a real bid for freedom when she least expected it.

Emma ignored the quiet tickle between her legs, or at least tried to; her clitoris was especially sensitive. Some women could open up with clitoral play, but it was overwhelming to her. She had to work up to it, to get horny enough that it was all she wanted, and, even then, it didn't take long for it to finish her off. She'd had guys that had rushed for the clit like horses out of the gate, and it had been far too much raw sensation for her to handle. She had always squirmed out of their grip, not trusting her passion-filled voice to be convincing enough to get them to stop.

And she had placed her shrunken toy right up against that sensitive button of flesh. She literally could not make him smaller than he was right now, but she could still feel him. The sensation wasn't strong, but it would be enough to bring her to orgasm if she closed her eyes and focused on it.

But it was still subtle enough to suppress, as long as she didn't spend too much time focusing on it. And that's what she did. She was still naked save for the bath towel, but she had put a pause on her morning routine to find the paperwork that had come with her shrunken man.

She had hidden it as best she could, and with good reason; it spoke far too explicitly about her shrunken toy, describing her contract, the cost, and the capabilities of her new purchase. For a company that prided itself in its discretion, a five page, double-sided contract on legal paper seemed far from discreet. 

So now she was digging through a forgotten box of charity clothes, trying to find the pocket that held the paperwork, and cursing herself, her toy, her boyfriend, and the company that had charged her so much for this miserable situation.

There. Her fingers gripped the corner of a wad of paper, and she slowly pulled it out, drawing the contract from the pile of clothes as if from quicksand. The paper emerged with deep folds and wrinkles, looking like something that had been fished from the garbage. There was not a more incriminating document in the world; Emma would have to find a safer storage spot for it after this. Maybe some kind of Swiss Bank safety deposit box?

But it had the information she needed now. She skipped past the sections about her financial obligations, about her powers over her new toy, and about the legal traps she should avoid. There was a bit in there about teaching her toy how to enjoy its new job, and that's what she was looking for.

She had ignored it at first, certain that she knew what she needed to know about people. But being famous, giving people an image of you that they could love was a completely different beast from teaching a slave how to really love you. She had to teach someone who, for now, wanted nothing more than freedom that he should want nothing more than to make her happy.

A little tickle of pleasure, and she let out a soft noise, shifting her hips a bit. It wasn't strong, but it was enough to notice. "Calm down," she breathed, both to her toy and to herself. She was tempted to force the little man to remain still, but she didn't want to give away that he was hitting all the right buttons; she had put him there to ignore him, she couldn't afford for it to be a place that he could control her from.

Or so she thought. This paperwork from the company was valuable information that she should have paid attention to from the very start. 

Love your toy, it said. Reward it early and often with whatever reward is appropriate for your relationship. The more dominating your relationship, the longer you should spend rewarding your toy for worthy behavior. Eventually, it will accept certain behavior as normal and reject rewards, and you can adjust the standard, make ever more servile behavior worth reward each time. Expect each cycle to take one to four weeks.

That was vague, but it was already enough to let Emma know she had fucked up. Positive reinforcement, goddammit. She had punished her toy for fucking up, and hoped that the promise of future punishment would keep it in check. She had done the opposite of what she was supposed to do. 

She flipped through the handbook, looking for a remedy to her problem, and tossed it down angrily when she realized that there was nothing. She was on her own. If obedience came through positive reinforcement, then what she had done up to this point had done nothing but foster rebellion, and she had to find out a way to turn that around.

Just wipe his memory, right? Start over again. That desire was strong, to be sure, but the desire to prove herself, to demonstrate that she could reprogram the most rebellious of toys, was stronger. 

Another tickle; not strong, but persistent. Emma managed to fight the instinct to bring her hand between her legs, but it took effort. And her toy was nothing more than a mite against her clit. She sure wouldn't be able to go out in public like this, even though she had thought at first that she could handle it. 

Maybe it was the same pathway, she realized. Obedience through reward was still possible, she just had more ground to cover. But what rewards could she offer at this point that he wouldn't abuse? 

Autonomy, in any fashion, was out of the question. Given what she had just told him, he would doubtless come up with the most insane plan possible to ensure his freedom, and she would not catch it until it was too late. 

So she had to find a way to control him that was more pleasant, or at least that seemed like a reward. She had stuck him in her ass, in her pussy, and even under her foot. But maybe he'd enjoy being in her bra, or even in her pocket? Or, shit, just left alone in a case for a day. It might be boring, but so was where she had put him now.

Oh, that was something. The cage with a bit of entertainment. Give him a book or Netflix, a way to pass the time. She could give him a day to himself while she was out, and still use him as a sex toy at home. It'd be something for him to look forward to, something for him to work for. 

A sudden wave of pleasure drew from her a sharp gasp. Her face tensed for a moment, trying to resist the temptation to bring her hand between her legs and finish the job. When it finally passed, she thought it might be a good reward for not doing that. 

But... oh, fuck. Another pang of pleasure made her eyes cross a little. He wasn't supposed to know he was that effective down there. Another few minutes, though, and it might become very obvious to him that he was treating her body in all the right ways, even at his miniscule scale. 

Emma took a deep breath and rubbed her legs together, hoping to shift the little man from his position. She wasn't sure if she succeeded, but the subtle and insistent sense of pleasure faded when she did it, and, for the next few minutes, she didn't feel any overwhelming sense of ecstasy.

Okay, that was good. So she had to buy a cage for the little man and turn it into a reward. And, if she was going to keep him somewhere separate from her body, she'd have to have her flat to herself. And that meant, unfortunately, that she'd have to break up with her boyfriend. 

That was a shame. He was a good man, and he gave good dick. It was a big gamble to assume that she could somehow groom her new toy to the point that it could replace him, but she had already spent the money; it would be irresponsible of her not to make the fullest effort to turn her shrunken man into the perfect toy.

Aaron, trapped inside the folds that surrounded Emma's pussy, was busy hating his life, and periodically lashing out at the wet flesh that surrounded him. Gravity shifted in unpredictable ways, the giantes walking about, sitting down, bending over, or any one of a thousand routine movements. He was no longer privy to exactly what she was doing, but he had a front-row seat to the worst part of it.

His world was nothing but pink, an undying pressure pushing at him from all sides, and fluid so plentiful that he couldn't help but breathe it in. When he was able to gasp down a lungful of fresh air, the thick, fishy smell was so strong that it made him gag, and he inevitably wound up sucking down another mouthful of lubricant. 

He punched, he kicked, he screamed. He would not let himself just be an audience to this woman's life, a speck of dust entirely ignored but forced to observe her morning routine. He fought until his body, demanding oxygen despite its invincibility, was left sucking down breath after exhausted breath of hot fluid.

Nothing. He took a break for a few minutes to catch his breath; it was infuriating that he 'caught his breath' by filling his lungs over and over again with slimy vaginal fluids. If he could literally drown with every breath, and live through the experience painlessly, then he should be able to struggle endlessly without his body demanding a 'breather.'

He thought he heard something, or maybe he felt something. A sudden gasp, a quick shift in the giantess' balance. He paused, breathing deep the seemingly endless ocean of vaginal discharge that surrounded him, as if it were fresh air and not the slimy secretions of a woman's most intimate organ. Something that told him that his microscopic efforts were at least having some effect. But, as he lay there, chest heaving, nothing followed. For one minute, maybe two. Gravity shifted repeatedly, the flesh around him sliming up and down his body, but that happened with every step she took. Was he actually having an effect, or had he just imagined it? 

Fuck it. He started kicking and squirming again, weaker this time thanks to the protests of his tired muscles, but he wouldn't give up. He took a gamble and targeted the area that he thought was closer to her clitoris, doing everything he could at his insignificant scale to move the infinite flesh that surrounded him.

The shift that followed was violent, sudden, and unexpected. Gravity shifted ninety degrees, and he was suddenly upside-down. He barely had a minute to wonder what was happening before Emma spread her legs, and the sudden breath of fresh air on his back told him that she had removed her pants and panties as well. Fear settled into his stomach before he felt the incredible pressure of her finger at his back.

In a deafening, blinding cacophony of flesh against flesh, she dragged him out of her crotch and lifted him high, high, high into the air. The motion felt like being shot out of a cannon straight to the moon. He had a split-second view of her body, wrapped from breasts to thighs in a sky-blue bath towel, before he was face-to-face with her piercing brown eyes. Her cheeks flushed, her nostrils flared and her sharp jaw set in anger, she eyed his rice-grain body with absolute fury in her eyes for a moment before she finally spoke.

"You've fucked up, love."

"So here's the thing," Emma said, "I've given you loads of chances to be the toy I want you to be, and you still fight back. What? Do you think you're going to get away from this?"

She shook her head, staring angrily at the flyspeck on her finger. He was so tiny that she could barely make out the fact that he was shaped like a human. And he had been able to bring her to the brink of orgasm at that size? Fuck.

"I own you. How many times do I have to say this? I own you. You either be the toy I want you to be, or I flush you down the toilet and get a new one," she said sternly. "Do you want to live as fish food forever, or with someone who actually cares about you?"

Emma, her finger still wet with fluids that held her tiny toy fast, made her way to the kitchen. With her off hand, she put an empty bowl, a box of cereal, and a quart of milk on the island. She produced a spoon and held it up for the tiny man to see. "Right, I've arranged for someone else to teach you the lesson that you refuse to learn from me. They'll be by shortly, but, in the meantime, I want you to learn that I am in charge here. Nothing happens to you unless I want it."

With that, she flicked the tiny man into the bowl. She could just barely see his tiny dark figure against the white ceramic. But, satisfied, she grabbed the box of cereal. "You want to fight, love? Fight this."

Coughing and gasping from the force with which his body had hit the ceramic, Aaron took a few long, crucial seconds to figure out what was going on. By rights, the force of his hit should have killed him, but he seemed to be immortal, at least for now, so he was cursed to survive whatever bullshit she thought to torture him with.

By the time he was able to regain his bearings and process his surroundings, Emma had finished speaking, and he could see a cereal box, of all things, lifting high above his head, slowly tilting down to pour its contents directly on top of him.

Fuck. He couldn't escape this. He just had to lie there, helpless, limbs trapped in a thin, sticky layer of human fluids, as lumpy whole-grain cereal poured down on top of him. 

The noise was deafening, the food clanking against the ceramic of the bowl. The appetizing brown color filled every corner of his vision, until a single kernel came plummeting down on top of his head. It bounced off like a kickball, but left him dazed and confused, unable to process what was really happening until he had been buried deep under an avalanche of food.

That wasn't it, he thought. Who ate cereal dry? 

The deluge of opaque, freezing-cold white milk came without warning. It came in from all directions, a flood that immediately dislodged him from the bowl and sent him twirling mercilessly through a dense field of cereal. He bounced painfully against grain after grain until he finally reached a resting point on the chilly surface of the milk.

Staring upwards, he saw Emma Watson from an incredible perspective. She didn't even seem to know he was there. Her bathtowel still wrapped around her body, another tied up in her hair, she sat over his bowl, a spoon held idly in one hand and her phone in the other. Whatever was on the phone, it captured her full attention, because she brought the spoon down to the bowl without even looking, and scooped up a gigantic volume of milk and cereal.

The action was cataclysmic to Aaron. He fought furiously to stay afloat, but it was useless. The moment her spoon sank into the bowl, he was dragged under, and it was only pure luck that he wasn't dragged out with the spoonful of cereal that she brought to her mouth. A few seconds  later, after suffering a seemingly endless bombardment of cereal bits, he finally surfaced, gasping for fresh air. 

He knew, deep down, that he could breathe the milk like air and he wouldn't die, but his body wouldn't acknowledge that fact. He swam around cereal grains twenty times larger than his body, he struggled against the insignificant wake made by the giantess' spoon, all to keep from being sucked under. That was all his body knew to do. 

There was no escaping, and he knew that, to be honest. How could you escape someone's breakfast when you were just barely larger than a grain of salt? He tried because instinct screamed at him, but it was ultimately meaningless.

It was Emma's fourth bite. Her spoon came down, and the massive wall of metal crashed into the frigid milk not ten feet from Aaron's face. Her wrist twisted, her arm lifted, and suddenly he was rocketing into the air, carried in a cold pool of milk straight to her mouth.

Her eyes didn't even see him; she was still looking at her phone. Her lips, yet untouched by makeup, parted wide, revealing the deep, dark hole of her mouth. In less time than it took to describe it, Aaron, along with the spoonful of ice-cold milk and cereal that carried him, were plunged deep into that cave, and her lips came slamming shut behind him. The spoon tilted, and suddenly he was spilled onto the burning heat and wet flesh of her tongue.

It was terrifying, beyond anything he had ever seen, but it was fascinating at the same time. Her tongue surged up to the roof of her mouth, forcing the milk and the food to the sides, and then her teeth began to work at it. Aaron was lucky enough to stay in the center of her tongue, pressed painfully against the roof of her mouth, as her teeth crunched mercilessly through the cereal.

He could see it, just barely, but he could definitely hear it. The hard grains crunching between the giantess' unyielding teeth sounded like a chorus of cannons. Milk washed over him, each wave stealing the breath from him in its abrupt wall of cold. Against the unbearable heat that came from Emma's tongue beneath him, and the roof of her mouth above him, even tiny flecks of the cold milk felt like being pelted with ice cubes.

Eventually, the giantess' tongue twisted and writhed underneath him, and Aaron was shoved to the back of her throat. For a moment, he floated amidst a lukewarm paste of half-chewed cereal and milk, no sound audible but Emma's steady heartbeat, and then she swallowed.

Aaron fell. So far, so fast. With a sudden squelching sound, her throat opened up, and Aaron was carried down in a lump of mushy fluid all the way down her esophagos and into her stomach. 

With a splash, he hit the bottom, falling straight through the thin layer of fluid at the bottom and hitting the flesh underneath. The impact was so hard that it drove the wind from him, and the breath he took afterwards was a hot mix of half-digested food and stomach acid.

The flesh of her stomach squirmed and heaved relentlessly under him, mixing food with acid and slowly guiding the mix towards her intestines. He tried to gain his feet and was tossed immediately onto his back, then onto his stomach. The fluids only really came up to his waist, but it was enough to drown in. And he would have drowned, acid burning his lungs from the inside-out, if he hadn't been cursed with immortality.

But still he fought. He would not spend another week inside Emma's digestive tract. Eventually, he managed to work his way to the side of her stomach, somewhere where brown-grey stew of food and fluids would not carry him helplessly further downwards. Her stomach continued to twitch and heave, but he was able to keep himself in his position, shoving feet and hands into the winkled folds of her stomach in an effort to keep from being thrown loose.

Once or twice every minute, another mushy brown offering came pouring down from the hole above him, plopping noisily into the mix below. It had been steadily draining down, but not as fast as she ate. The watermark crept slowly upwards, and he kept trying to climb away, until he was no longer sure of his footing, holding desperately onto a near-vertical wall of flesh as hot slime lapped at his shins.

This was his third time down here, and, goddammit, he was not going to rely on Emma's goodwill to survive it unscathed. He was a human being, not a morsel of food, not a toy to be discarded. He would fight with everything he had.

But she's just eating breakfast, a part of him said. She's not even trying to torture you. No matter what you do, her stomach will do what it was built to, and you will be carried down like the tiny snack you are.

Aaron stubbornly ignored that voice, holding on as spoonful after spoonful of chewed-up cereal came pouring down, as the half-digested mixture came up to his knees, to his waist, to his chest. Each one he hoped was the last, and he screamed and cursed in desperation as more and more came.

The heaving and tossing of her stomach was making him nauseous, but he held on for dear life. Eventually, with the chyme riding almost up to his neck, the deluge of food finally stopped, and the level finally started to come down.

Holy fuck, he thought. She's finally done. Now all he had to do was hold on, just like he had, and wait. He'd ride this shit out in her stomach.

And then what? She'll eat again, and again, and again. That's what people do. You can't survive every meal for the rest of her life, he told himself. Might as well let go and get it over with now. Sure, a trip through her intestines is unpleasant, but at least it's a break from her.

No. No. That was the mindset of a man defeated. He didn't wish for a brief reprieve from her sexual torture, he wanted to escape it forever. He wanted to see justice dealt for what she had done to him, and that meant fighting her with every breath. Submitting to her body was just the first step towards becoming the slave that she wanted.

That line of thought lasted until Emma finally stood up. Her body shifted so abruptly that the contents of her belly were tossed about in absolute chaos. A wave of hot slime washed over Aaron, and he was dragged helplessly from his 'safe' spot and straight into the pool that had settled at the bottom of her stomach.

He barely realized what was happening, but he instinctively started to fight for the surface. He barely made two strokes before Emma started to walk. Each and every step she took sent the fluids that surrounded him sloshing around, and, with each distant thump, he drifted further and further towards the bottom. He was the only thing not rendered into a foamy mess of half-digested matter, and the sheer force of gravity forced him further and further down into the pool of food in her stomach.

Fighting for his life, gasping desperately for air but only breathing slimy chyme, Aaron barely noticed that he had passed through the bottom of her stomach and into her intestines. It took almost ten minutes of tired fighting for him to realize that there was no end to the fluids, that a tight tube of hungry, squirming flesh surrounded him on all sides.

He screamed.

"I'm so sorry to waste your time, Dominique," Emma said, drawing the whistling kettle from the burner. "I watched it happen. He fell all the way down..." She patted her belly as she poured the steaming hot tea into Domonique's cup, "It's probably going to be a few days."

"Oh, hush, Emma," Dominique said, taking the cup of tea and swirling it around. Her accent sounded almost exactly like it did on the TV, with the rough touch of Cockney. Emma may have given it a bit of extra posh for the cameras, but Dominique didn't bother with the effort. She appreciated that about her. "You have to do what you have to do. Honestly, I'm surprised he's still this stubborn after all this time. How long did you say you had him?"

"Ten days," Emma said, pouring herself a cup. "But he spent a bit of that time in... you know..."

"A full tour?"

"You could say that."

"And he's still rebellious even after that? You just put him on a second tour."

Emma nodded, sending a gulp of hot tea down after the tiny man; he was probably deep into her small intestine by now. "And he fought like fire the whole way down. I watched him do it."

Dominique nodded thoughtfully, taking a slow sip of her tea. "Why didn't you save him, if you were going to pass him off?" she asked.

"He was already too far down by the time I went to look," Emma explained. "I didn't want to hurt myself by sizing him up."

"That can be easy to do," Dominique replied. "Are you going to make him sit the whole thing out?"

"Probably not," Emma said with a shrug, "Maybe make him think I care about him before letting you have him."

Dominique shook her head. "You're overthinking it. Cruelty to break them, kindness to remake them. You give them an uneven mix and you just make it worse for yourself."

"That's not what the book says."

"The book is fucking stupid. You're not training a dog."

"So was yours this... rebellious?"

"Oh, no," Dominique said, laughing. "I honestly think she wanted to be a toy. Only took about three days before she would do anything I asked. She even helps me break other people's toys now."

Emma rolled her teacup between her hands, feeling the warmth. It was still vaguely uncomfortable for her to talk about this, with the knowledge that it was a massive crime with life-ending consequences. Dominique's cavalier attitude about the whole affair just made her feel more awkward. "Can I... meet her?"

"Sure," Dominique said, taking another sip of tea. Noticing Emma's expression, she added, "Oh, not now. She's at home cleaning up."

Emma's mouth dropped in shock. "What, really?"

"Oh, darling, once they're broken they're great," Dominique told her, a conspiratorial look crossing her face. "I even let Suzy come with me to shootings from time to time. People just think she's my American friend."

"That's amazing."

"But come by any time. She'll meet yours eventually so it couldn't hurt for her to meet you," said Dominique. "What is his name, by the way?"

"I... don't know," Emma said, her eyes widening. She had never even bothered to ask. Honestly, she wasn't sure if she had even considered the fact that he had a name.

Dominique frowned. "See, that's a problem. You have to know their name. That's how you start the personal relationship."

Emma let a long sigh out through her nose. "Should I just have his memory reset?"

Dominique waved off the question, "Oh, no, I like the challenge. Just bring him by my place when you can and we'll get started." She grabbed her teacup off the table, then set it back down, gesturing excitedly, "Oh, and you have to try out Suzy. She can do things that are just..." 

"Appreciated, but I'll pass," Emma said. 

"Suit yourself," Dominique replied, huddling her tea up to her chest with both hands and wearing a sultry grin. "I'll get your man-with-no-name there for you."

"Really, Dominique, I can't thank you enough for this."

"It's my pleasure, Emma, really." She downed the last of her tea and set the cup down, her face going serious. "But first you need to tell me everything you've done to him already."

Aaron rode helplessly through the giantess' intestines, listening to the pounding of her heartbeat, varying constantly in its pace, and the unintelligible vibrations of her speech, muffled by endless tons of flesh. Scarcely an hour had passed since he had lost his fight to Emma's stomach, and his disgust and fear had already subsided, replaced by sheer boredom.

It was hot. Unbearably hot. Heat coated his flesh and filled his lungs with every breath. He barely even noticed the sour taste of acid and half-digested food anymore, but he couldn't ignore the heat.

He was so small, but not small enough to avoid being dragged relentlessly against the walls of her intestines. The slow, steady pulsing of the flesh around him, combined with the random motions of her body, slowly pushed him along, but he was caught between folds of flesh for minutes, sometimes even an hour at a time.

Her small intestine, he knew. It squeezed tight around him, forcing his tiny body through a ceaseless vice grip. The flesh was even more wrinkled than that inside her vagina, and seemed almost furry. Old anatomy knowledge surfaced, telling him what made that fleshy carpet and what purpose it served, but what use did that do him here? He wasn't going to get absorbed into her bloodstream any time soon; he just had to endure the vilii squrming around his limbs like hot, slimy grass.

Boredom seemed like an incredible thing, given that he was experiencing firsthand a view that any biologist would kill for, but that's really all he felt. He was being pushed through Emma's intestines even slower than her food, but he knew what was waiting for him at the end of this trip. He didn't really feel like swimming to make it end sooner.

So he waited, lying there and wishing that he could just fall asleep. He had done it before inside her vagina, but, as the first day, then the second day passed, he never even felt a little sleepy. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the constant lungful of slimy fluid, or maybe it was some other curse of this shrinking bullshit. In any case, he had to personally experience every inch of the woman's intestines. 

He tried to masturbate a few times, but really couldn't get it up. He tried to grind against the wall of her intestines, but it was like trying to fuck a wet shag rug. His failed attempts to get himself aroused made him hate her even more.

She had sex on the third day. He could hear the muffled, but very distinct pleasured moans, and he could feel the steady, jerking up-and-down motion as she rode her boyfriend. Even surrounded by pale, sickening flesh, even breathing lungful after lungful of foul slime, the sensation was enough that he was able to jack himself off. His pathetic squirt of semen was immediately lost to the acids that surrounded him.

It still felt like a victory. He had no idea why, but he got a sense of vindication of it, rather than the brief wash of shame that should have followed. Her body had broken his cum down and absorbed it in a matter of minutes, as it should have done long ago to his body, but, God dammit, it was still his moment of triumph.

The transition from her small to large intestine was clear by the sudden and abrupt passage through a tight tunnel of flesh, forced into a much wider tunnel that, though the same color as the hell he had passed through over the last four days, lacked the fuzzy, heavily-textured surface. He passed through in a mix that was thicker and more viscous than anything he had been in before. 

He knew what was coming next, and, on some level, he was disgusted by what was happening. But the transition from clear, acidic fluid to where he was now had been so slow that he barely noticed it happening. Eventually, the slime around him darkened, thickened, and finally solidified. And, eventually, he was carried along with a solid mass ten times larger than his body straight out of her ass and into the toilet.

The impact into the water threw him clear, and he floated there for a moment, staring at the giantess' bare ass in the darkness of the toilet bowl. A part of him feared, or maybe hoped, that she would just flush. Send him out of her life forever. Maybe living as fish food would be preferable to his life with her.

No such luck. Without wiping, he noticed, she stood up, turned around, and her eyes immediately met his. "Finally," she said, reaching down with one massive hand to scoop him up.

Fuck.

"Hello, Suzy," Emma said, shaking the woman's hand awkwardly. Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.

"Emma Watson, it's such a pleasure to meet you," Suzy said enthusastically, grabbing Emma's hand with both of hers and shaking it up and down. Emma had to try very deliberately to ignore what the motion did to the other woman's breasts. 

"Dominique has told me a lot about you," Emma said, pulling her hand free after the handshake went for a second too long. She meant to follow it up with more, but was too uncomfortable to figure out what to say next. It was all she could do to keep her eyes from drifting down.

Suzy noticed, apparently, and spread her arms wide, spinning on one heel. "Oh, go ahead, look. What is there to be ashamed of?"

Before Emma could even respond, Suzy took a quick step forward and pressed her body up against her. Emma felt like she could almost feel the heat of the other woman's bare skin through her clothes, and she felt her cheeks growing red.

"I'm not ashamed," Suzy said, her voice growing husky. She ran one hand down Emma's back and cupped her ass, prompting a sqeak of surprise from her. "And I'm not afraid," she whispered into Emma's ear. 

Emma was frozen, and her eyes bulged as she felt Suzy's other hand work its way into the waist of her pants. The cool tendrils of her fingers brushed against the bare flesh of Emma's crotch, and Emma almost melted into the other woman's touch. God, just a few...

"Suzy!" Dominique barked. Her voice sharp and authoritative. Emma snapped back to reality and Suzy took a rapid step back, a look of fear crossing her face before she was able to compose herself. 

"Sorry, ma'am," she said, crossing her hands in front of her and looking down, ashamed.

"Oh, don't be sorry, love. Just save it for another time," Dominique said.

"Yes, ma'am."

Dominique's face took on an expression of pity, and she set her tea cup down, standing up and approaching the other woman. "Don't you worry, Suzy. You'll be able to make it up."

"Yes, ma'am."

Dominique stepped up and raised Suzy's head by the chin. She met the other woman's eyes for a moment, then barely brushed her lips against hers. When she let go, Suzy's head dropped again, but Emma noticed the barest smile on her face.

Dominique went back to her seat, a bit of a triumphant swagger in her step. She picked up her tea to take a sip, then paused. "Oh, Emma, get that look off your face. Go ahead and look."

Emma's self-control broke, and her eyes scanned downwards hungrily, drawing in everything about Suzy's naked body. The other woman, Dominique's human sex toy, had been sized up to her full height, about as tall as Emma. Her shoulders were wide, and supported relatively large breasts that still hugged tight against her chest. She was probably in her early twenties. Twenty-two, maybe twenty-three? But for how long she had been that age, Emma could not guess.

Her nipples were a dark, dark brown, only a few shades above black, and small, only about the size of a quarter. They poked just barely above the areola, but that might have just been the temperature. Against her pale skin, they seemed even darker than they really were.

She was thin, but not lanky. Fat smoothed out muscle definition and lent weight to her hourglass figure, and the tops of her thighs just barely touched with her feet together. It wasn't enough to hide the tight, bare-shaven cleft of her labia, though. Emma let her eyes linger for a second on that triangle-shaped junction, her imagination toying with a few crazy notions before she brought it in check.

"She's beautiful," Emma said. "Congratulations."

Dominique grinned, and Suzy's smile grew a bit as well. "Well, to be fair, the Program helps out a bit."

"Why a woman?"

"I thought the shape would feel better going in," Dominique said with a shrug. Suzy's smile didn't budge. "Besides, she doesn't come inside me when we fuck."

Emma sat down at the table as well, grabbing the tea that Dominique had poured for her. Suzy still stood in place, head down, seemingly waiting for an order. Emma leaned forward, her voice barely over a whisper, and said, "I kinda like that."

Dominique eyed her with a raised eyebrow. "You fuck your boyfriend bareback?"

“Oh yeah.”

Dominique laughed, and Emma leaned back, the chair creaking underneath her. “Well, Emma, you made the right choice,” she said. “Don’t worry, we’ll have a toy to replace your boyfriend in no time.”

Emma gave a bit of a half-smile, still wondering what on earth she was going to do to let her boyfriend down easy. She still liked him; she didn’t love him, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings either. “Thanks again, Dominique.”

“Don’t worry about it, love. Before we get this started, do you want to have a go with Suzy?”

Emma eyed Suzy, and the naked woman barely moved. She couldn’t help but linger on the gentle curve of her ass, baser instincts debating among themselves what best to do with the woman. She wanted her head between those thighs, but, at the same time, maybe Dominique was right. Maybe those curves felt better going in...

She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts. “No, but thanks.”

Dominique stared at her for a moment, as if she knew her indecision. Honestly, if she had pressed even a little bit, Emma would have eagerly accepted, but, thankfully, she didn’t. “Alright then,” she said. “Where is your tiny man?”

“I’ll get him,” Emma said, putting down her teacup and standing up. Before she could step away from the table, though, Dominique grabbed her arm.

“Emma, no,” she said seriously. “You can’t pretend like nudity is anything to be ashamed of. It’s part of making them think that sex is normal.”

Emma hesitated, glancing between Dominique and her toy, Suzy. "You sure?" she asked.

Dominique rolled her eyes and set her tea down. She stepped back from the table and pulled her shirt up over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra, so her slight breasts flopped down freely, revealing broad nipples a few shades darker than her skin. The left nipple was only a hair bigger than the right, and her breasts hug tight to her chest. Emma was a hair jealous, especially considering that the other woman was older.

She undid her shorts, letting them fall to her ankles and kicking them to the corner, and revealing that she wasn't wearing underwear under those either. A thin rectangle of curly hair sat above an otherwise bare crotch, and the loose lips of her labia were clearly visible. Emma averted her gaze immediately, but she noticed that Suzy snuck a look that may have lingered a second too long.

"There," Dominique said, spreading her legs and arms, inviting examination. Her breasts jiggled just barely as she did so. "It's fine, see?"

Emma tried to meet the other woman's gaze, the only part of her body she felt comfortable looking at, but broke it quickly enough. She nodded, then took a step back away from Dominique and shed her pants and panties. Dominique barely seemed to pay attention, returning to the table to finish her tea, and Suzy didn't even look, her eyes fleeting towards Dominique and away again. After a moment’s pause, trying to figure out the relationship between the two, Emma slowly slid her middle finger into her vagina.

“Wait,” Dominique said suddenly.

Emma felt downright foolish, pausing in the middle of fingering herself, but Dominique was not even looking at her. “Suzy,” she said. “Come here.”

The naked woman obliged without hesitation, walking over to Dominique. Emma saw how every step sent a subtle wave through her flesh, set her breasts jiggling, and couldn’t help but get a bit horny at the sight.

She wasn’t a lesbian, or at least she thought so. Still, God damn, this Suzy was absolutely gorgeous.

Dominique grabbed Suzy’s wrist, and the woman shrank quickly and without warning. It was insane to watch from the outside; the woman went from six feet to less than six inches in only a few seconds, leaving Dominique holding onto her arm with just two fingers. She carried the tiny girl over to the table and set her down, a bit less than gently. Then she returned to her tea. Right before taking a sip, she asked, “How tall is he?”

“As small as I could get him,” Emma answered, still shocked. Somehow it seemed totally natural for her toy to change size when she controlled it, but, from the outside, it was absolutely inhuman. She had never seen anything so unbelievable.

“Perfect,” said Dominique. “Now bring him out.” She took a sip of tea and added, “Suzy, you know what to do.”

Emma barely heard the tiny woman’s voice acknowledge, “Yes, ma’am.” A small part of her regretted what she was doing, wondering if she had made a mistake given the absolute weirdness of it all, but she had paid a lot to join this world. Might as well embrace it.

She shoved her middle finger back into her vagina, probing for the mote of dust that was her sex toy. She couldn’t find him until her ring finger went in as well, searching the inside of her pussy like the pocket of an old pair of jeans. Eventually, she finally got him, trapped to the tip of her finger by a thick layer of vaginal fluids. Emma wiped him off on the table, right next to the shrunken Suzy. Then, brushing her wet fingers off on her thigh, she crossed her arms and stood back.

Time for Dominique to work her magic.

It took a minute for Aaron to realize what was happening to him. After he had finally passed through Emma’s body, she had only sized him up just barely enough to clean effectively under a deafening deluge of cold sink water. Then she shrank him back down and, without explanation or even foreplay, shoved him knuckle-deep into her vagina. 

A few hours passed in a miserable, but familiar environment. He was but a speck of dust against the massive walls of her vagina; somehow, that situation was better the smaller he was. At least it was less claustrophobic when the wrinkles were larger than his entire body. It didn't help the oppressive heat, or the nauseating randomness of her body's movements, but it was something.

He was used to spending days here, sitting through the rhythms of Emma's life from a place where he could never comprehend them. Her walking, her working out, her sleeping; it was all unpredictable, but it had a note of consistency to it. So he was surprised, and almost terrified, when her fingers came digging into his fleshy hell, dragging him abruptly into the shockingly bright and cold world of the outside.

Before he knew what was happening, he was lying on a cold, dark surface. He struggled to his feet, trying to process his surroundings. The texture of wood grain surrounded him in all directions, and, in the distance, he saw Emma, totally naked, staring at him with her arms crossed. She seemed miles away, and her expression seemed almost bored.

He span around, and saw another woman, as gigantic and as naked as Emma. She had a thin face, a sharp jawline and sharp eyebrows; her eyes were a captivating brown that competed with the color of her unblemished skin. Her slight breasts were laid bare, revealing slightly asymmetrical, dark brown nipples; Aaron couldn't help but feel like he belonged between those breasts, even though he knew he would barely be noticed against her skin.

Smiling a bit at the body of the giantess before him, Aaron turned and found himself face-to-face with a pale, stark-naked tower of humanity. 

He fell back and scrambled away, letting out a yelp of surprise. It took him a moment to comprehend that standing in front of him was another shrunken person, scarcely six inches tall, but she absolutely towered over him at his current size. It seemed impossible to comprehend how small he was with Emma, and this other, unknown giantess sitting at the table on either side of him, mountains in their size and distance. But this third woman, barely half a foot tall, brought the reality right to his face. He didn't even come up to her ankle, and her body just seemed to go up and up and up and up as his eyes scanned up to meet her face.

A feeling of dread started to settle in his stomach with the realization that this woman was so big compared to him, and still would have fit comfortably in the palm of a normal person's hand. The dread grew suddenly into fear when his eyes reached hers and he saw the stern, angry look on her face.

"Like what you see?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Feet shoulder-width apart, hands on her hips, "What's your name?"

"I, uh..."

Abruptly, her left foot came shooting forwards, bowling him backwards and stomping him mercilessly into the table. His head stuck out from under her big toe, leaving him free to see her unchanged expression, but the rest of him was caught under her foot. "Your name," she demanded again.

God, her weight was tremendous, and she probably wasn't even putting all of it on her. He tried to gasp for breath, to speak, but he couldn't. His mouth gaped like a fish out of water but he couldn't make so much as a squeak.

In an impressive display of flexibility, she bent at the waist, holding him pinned under her foot, until her head was at her knees. Brushing air away from her ear, she tilted her head as if she was trying to better hear him. "What's that? You need to speak up."

He could only muster a weak rattle. 

"I'll wait here all day until you tell me," she said, eyeing him with the gaze of a disapproving parent.

Aaron tried and tried to breathe, to push her foot off him just so he could get some air in his lungs, but she wouldn't budge. God, she was tiny; at his full size, he could have effortlessly flicked her across the room, but here he was, trapped under a woman who couldn't have weighed more than a pound, and it felt like she had settled a building on top of him. After a few painful seconds, just as his lungs started to scream for air, she pulled some of her weight off, and he managed to draw in a raspy gasp of air.

"Fuck you," he said.

The woman drew her foot up, just enough that she could slam it back down, this time trapping his entire body under her weight. The soft, pale flesh of the bottom of her feet wrapped around his face, cutting off all air, and crushed him with unbelievable force. 

Through the flesh that surrounded, through the roaring of the blood in his ears, he heard her say, "Later." The sole of her foot vibrated as she spoke. "But I need to know your name first."

He fought and squirmed, but he couldn't budge. He couldn't breathe. His lungs burned, the pressure on top of him felt like it would pop him any moment now. "Come on, just your name. It's not like you need to wine-and-dine me."

She had an American accent, he realized. He should have felt a kinship at that, but all he felt was betrayed. He tried to speak his name, hoping that she would notice even under her foot, but he couldn't get out a single peep. Just lift your foot, bitch, he thought, I'll tell you. Please.

Her foot came all the way off, bathing him in sudden light and allowing him to draw a desperate breath. He sank immediately into a coughing fit when he did so.

"Stubborn one, huh?" she asked, straightening back up. "We can fix..."

"Aaron!" he managed to yell out in between coughs. 

Her expression darkened, and her foot raised up a few inches, looming over him. He scrambled backwards as best he could, sneaking out from under it just as it slammed back down. "Did you just interrupt me?" she asked. She didn't seem to care that he wasn't under her foot for the question.

"My name is Aaron," he answered, finally catching his breath and averting his eyes.

"You didn't answer my question. Did you just interrupt me?"

He eyed her foot, he had just gotten out in time; if his legs had been straight, they would have been caught under her toes. "I did," he admitted.

"And what do we say?"

He looked up at her, puzzled. Her expression was expectant, but patient, like a parent teaching a child. "Sorry?" he guessed.

"There we go." In a sudden, dizzying motion, she leaned down and plucked him off the table. He fit wholly inside her fist, but she let his head poke out as she brought him up to her face. God, her face was massive, it seemed to consume his entire field of vision, even though she held him up at arm's length. Her pale blue eyes drew all his attention, even though her substantial breasts were just a brief glance downwards. "Well, Aaron," she began, a slight smile on her face that brought out the dimples on her cheeks, "My name is Suzy. And that," she continued, pointing over his shoulder. Aaron wasn't able to twist around enough to see what she was pointing at, but he knew it was the black giantess, "Is my Mistress, Dominique."

Aaron didn't respond, not really sure what to say. Suzy's unmoving smile seemed to grow sinister as she continued, "I'm told you made your Mistress unhappy. Now, I know how to keep my Mistress happy, so now I get to teach you."

Aaron's eyes widened, fear taking over again. Suzy's massive smile broadened, her nose wrinkling, "Oh, we're going to have so much fun!"

Emma was only really able to hear Suzy's side of the exchange, and even her voice was faint, but she was impressed. She was effortlessly cruel, but did it without seeming sadistic. She hadn't had to push more than a few seconds to get the tiny man's name out of him, but Emma only heard it when she repeated it back to him.

Aaron. She didn't really know what she expected, but it wasn't that. Seemed kind of generic.

"Emma," Dominique said.

Emma's head snapped up from the exchange between the two shrunken toys. Dominique nodded her head towards the kitchen. "Want a cuppa?"

"I'll get it," she said, stepping away from the table, sweeping her clothes up from the ground as she made her way to the kitchen. She wasn't all that uncomfortable with nudity, but it was cold, and she felt like an unkind guest with her bare ass on Dominique's chairs.

"Wait, mistress!" called a tiny voice from the table. She twisted and saw Suzy at the edge, clutching the tiny man; Aaron; to her breast as if in prayer. "Could you make him a little bigger?"

"Er... How big?"

"About twice as big as me. And freeze him please."

"Suzy..." Dominique said, her tone a warning.

"Sorry, ma'am. I won't..."

"No, it's fine," said Emma. She did it, frezing him first then growing him, slowly enough that the tiny woman could notice that it was happening and pitch him towards the center of the table, then stride calmly after him. Emma didn't care to watch, making her way to the kitchen, her clothes bundled up in her hands. She heard the screeching of the Dominique's chair sliding back from the table, and the other woman followed her into the kitchen, stepping carelessly over her own clothes. Her comfort with being naked was another thing that made Emma uncomfortable about it, how many surfaces on this house had held Dominique's bare ass?

"She showed her cards a bit early," Dominique confided, grabbing the carton of milk from the fridge while Emma put her underwear on. "He's not supposed to know that we can't control his size."

"So what do you normally do?" Emma asked.

"I'll draw up a timetable for you," replied Dominique, with a tone like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Sizes and times. We work around it."

"Christ. How many times have you done this?"

"Oh," Dominique rocked her weight from leg to leg a bit, her expression thoughtful as she prepared the tea, "I think we've used the timetables eight times now."

Emma just shook her head, stunned. "How many customers do you know?"

"I don't think you want the answer to that question, love," Dominique replied with a half-grin. 

Aaron soared across a seemingly infinite expanse of wood, his body growing even as he hurtled through the air. When he hit, it drove the air out of his lungs, and he rolled a few times before coming to rest on his back.

He couldn't move. Fuck. But he could feel the subtle vibrations though the wood as the other shrunken toy, Suzy, walked up to him. Eventually, her face appeared over his, and he was stunned by how small she seemed now. He had heard her say how much she wanted Emma to grow him, but seeing it was an entirely different matter. Christ, she looked like a kid, but there was no child with that aggressively feminine body, or with that hungry, near-feral look in their eyes.

"Comfortable?" she asked.

He drew a sharp, surprised breath at the feel of her hand on his cock. Her fingers were cool, but her touch was soft, and he started to stir immediately. She noticed, and grinned, "Apparently."

Without delay, she swung her legs over his hips, and he felt the wet heat of her crotch against his. She started grinding her hips back and forth as his dick rapidly stiffined; he had no idea what she was up to right now, but his body responded automatically.

"Look," she ordered, grabbing his head with her hand and lifting it up. The sight was almost comical; she had to lean all the way forward and reach above her head to grab him, and he was so much wider than she was that her legs were almost in a full split on top of him.

But when she let go and straightened up, letting him see the sight of her naked crotch pressed over his dick, his head held its position. Interesting.

She lifted her hips, and his cock sprung up. She grabbed it with one hand; her thumb didn't even touch her other fingers; and spread her labia with her other hand. Then, slowly, she eased herself down. 

Fuck, she was tight, and he had never felt so big. And that look on her face... What he wouldn't give to see that look on every girl's face when he slid it in.

She just slid further and further down. How the hell was she fitting it all? She was half his height, maybe less. She should have bottomed out halfway down, but she kept going. Finally, her hips settled down on his, and she gave him a sultry grin, her face already flushed. Had he made her come already?

Her eyes rolled back and her mouth fell open as she started to rock her hips back and forth, but all he wanted to do was grab her waist and start fucking her. God, she was tight, and, maybe it was the lighting, but he could have sworn that he saw the bulge of his cock inside her as high up as her belly button. 

Oh, Christ. That shouldn't be possible. Was that just another ridiculous power granted by being shrunk? What could she do to him, if his body would just stretch and bend to accomodate whatever she wanted?

He didn't want to think about it. He just watched Suzy, half his height but riding him with an air of absolute authority. She didn't even bother looking at him, her head lolling back as she kept grinding her hips back and forth.

Maybe enough of this... But no. Only a few seconds later, she froze, letting out a gasp as her legs tightened and her vagina squeezed weakly around him. Her body quivered, and she struggled to draw breath for a moment, and then she relaxed, finally bringing her eyes down to look at him.

Still fixing him with the same hungry smile, she slowly slid her hips up, up, and all the way off of him. His cock fell out of her and fell forward onto his stomach, still hard, still glistening, still unsatisfied. He let out a disappointed sigh through his nose as she shuffled up his body, still on her knees, never breaking eye contact. When she got to his chest, she stood up, positioned his face right between her legs, and came crashing down on top of him.

She pressed her entire weight onto his face, her thighs squeezing tight and her legs wrapped around each other behind his head. The smell of her pussy was strong enough that he could taste it, but it was nothing compared to being trapped for days inside a woman's vagina. At least now he wasn't expected to eat her out as she rode his face, and he was suddenly grateful that she hadn't finished him off. 

He just lay there, timing his breathing with the movement of her hips as she rode them roughly over his face, over and over. He got brief glimpses of her body, but her breasts were in the way of her face. All things considered, it wasn't a bad view, but then her pussy slid right over his face and all he could see was the pink, soaking-wet skin.

It took a while, especially since he wasn't helping, but she never seemed to tire of it. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it. He could hear her pleasured gasps, feel her thighs squeeze harder around his head. Her hands, tangled in his relatively short hair, gripped tight.

Fuck, woman. Just give me something. The stench of her pussy filling his nostrils, the weight and heat of her pressing down on his face, it all made his dick so hard it hurt. Finally, after what felt like an hour, she finally stopped, wriggling her hips over his mouth one last time like she wanted him to start licking. But, of course, he couldn't, so she unwrapped her legs from around his head and stood up.

"What, you didn't finish?" she asked, sounding almost genuinely surprised and breathing heavy. Her hair was a mess and her face was flushed. A huge wet stain spread out from her crotch to almost a third of the way down her thigh.

Just touch it. He begged. He'd practically explode with just one stroke. She slowly backed up, step by step, locking eyes with him, until she was right over it. "Oh, that's a shame," she said.

She looked down at it, legs spread wide, looked back at him, looked back down at it again, then brought one leg back and delivered a rapid kick right between his legs.

He screamed. No, he couldn't scream. But he could swear he was screaming anyway. His body folded like a lawn chair and he brought his hands between his legs, whimpering like a baby. No, he couldn't move. He couldn't even make a sound. He just lay there, his breath shaking pitifully through his nose. Oh God... Oh God, oh God, oh God...

"You don't make your mistress happy," she said, planting a foot on his bare stomach. He recoiled at her touch, but his body didn't move. “And that doesn’t make me happy.”

She stood up, pressing all her weight down on his belly. He should’ve tensed his stomach, but he couldn’t, and so her foot sank far too deep in. It felt almost like getting kicked in the balls again. His eyes bulged and his breath was rapid, the only signs of pain he could give out. She took a step forward, and blessedly put her weight down on his ribcage. He could barely breathe with her standing there, but it was better.

She bent at the waist, bringing her face close to his. Her black hair hung down around her face, seeming to obscure the outside world, and all he could see was her piercing blue eyes. “I can do this forever,” she whispered. “It will never stop hurting. It will never get better. I will never get bored of it.”

She stood up and got off his chest. He took a deep, relieved breath, but, before he knew it, her foot was resting lightly on his crotch. It was cold, he could feel it. His dick was soft already, no surprise, and it felt like it shrank at her touch. She hadn’t put any weight down, not yet, just staring at him. Still, he breathed hard, in and out, through his nostrils, waiting for the wash of pain.

“You’re a toy,” she said, matter of factly. “You know what people do when their toy stops working?”

She lifted her foot and brought it stomping down. Pain blinded him for a long moment. He couldn’t close his eyes, but the entire world seemed to go red. He felt almost like he had passed out. When he came to, though, he wasn’t curled up in a ball, clutching his testicles. He was still lying there, staring at a woman half his height who had reduced him to tears.

He was crying, wasn’t he. He felt the tears on his cheeks.

She shrugged. “People replace them,” she continued. “But what do you do with the old one?” A half-grin reappeared on her face. “You give it away. You can’t be un-shrunk, so where do you go?”

She pushed her weight down, just a little bit, just enough that he could feel it. His breath grew quicker again, panicked, and she stopped. Her grin split into a full smile; gone was the humble slave to the black giantess, and gone was the horny young woman who had face-fucked his immobile body. Behind that smile was a psychopath.

“You serve your mistress,” she said softly. “Or you serve me."

Suzy had given this same speech so many times that she could do the whole thing, all the dramatic gestures and cruel torture, without even thinking about it. But that wasn't to say it was boring; she loved to see the looks on their faces, the desperation as they realized what they were, the helplessness as they waited for that second kick... She loved her Mistress, and she would have been happy to live a life where her only duty was to pleasure the woman. However, in her boundless kindness, Dominique had given her an even greater task, and there was no way for her to express her gratitude for that gift. No way, except to perform her duty faithfully.

Twenty-three women and twelve men. She had broken thirty-five people, and little Aaron here; she still thought of him as 'little' even though he had been sized up to be fully twice her size; was going to be number thirty-six. The thirteenth man, too. Lucky him.

Why women preferred to have other women as sentient sex toys was a mystery to her; her Mistress said that the curves of her body 'felt better going in,' but what did that matter when she had absolute control over her size? What she did know, however, was that men were far and away more fun for her to break. Sure, the pattern of pain, pleasure, and deprivation was more or less the same, but the process was so much more rewarding. 

Sure, men resisted harder, or at least they tried to, but breaking them was easy; put just a little bit of pressure between their legs, or even just threaten to, and they'd fold like a lawn chair. She'd have this Aaron trembling like an abused puppy in just a few short days. Shit, he was almost there now, and it had hardly been five minutes. But the real challenge wasn't in breaking the men, it was in building them up again.

A broken toy was about as useful as a vibrator without batteries. The real key was in what you did after you broke them; when they felt like they had nothing to live for, you had to inspire them with a newfound sense of purpose. With women, it was downright easy. Any woman would suffer the demanding rigor and the degrading conditions of being a sex toy when they found solace in the deeply intimate relationship between their mistress and themselves. Once Suzy got them over their personal pride, and taught them as much as she could about how to please a woman, all she and Dominique had to do was seem unimpressed by their efforts. In a week's time, they'd be able to turn over a willing slave, eager to please just for the taste of acknowledgement.

Men were more difficult. Sex wasn't an expression of emotional attachment to them, it was a primal urge. And, for all the stereotypical talk about men wanting to have sex all the time, the fact was that a man's drive was less a part of his life than a woman's was of hers. They were capable of anything if they were horny enough, but they were useless otherwise, and no woman wanted to wait for their sex toy to be 'in the mood.' That presented Suzy with a unique challenge.

It may seem counterintuitive, but the near-constant stimulation of being a sex toy, spending every waking moment buried between a woman's legs, breathing nothing but the heat and the scent of her, actually seemed to suppress most men's sex drive. Suzy had tried everything to keep it stoked, thinking that she could force their bodies to adapt to a life of constant sexual excitement, and that it would make them yearn for the time when they were called to please their mistress. Her methods ranged from systematic deprivation to basically raping them six times a day. She tried to tease out their fetishes, reprogram them to think that there was nothing hotter than being slave to a giantess, but nothing seemed to work. Eventually, their bodies refused to continue feeding their hormone-fueled libido, and they defaulted back to rebelliousness, or, more often, useless passivity.

Eventually, the successful method was to make them believe that being a willing, capable sex toy was their purpose in life. Rather than fabricate an emotional attachment or try to sustain their sex drive, she appealed to their sense of duty; they didn't have to enjoy what they did, it only mattered that their mistress did.

It seemed cliche. It seemed like stereotypical psuedo-psychology ripped from the pages of 'Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus,' but it worked. It felt cheap, and Suzy thought it lacked the subtlety of how she brought women around to be willing servants, but she wouldn't deny its effectiveness. Maybe there was something else going on there, some more nuanced line of thought going on in men's brains for which her drill sergeant routine was just a convenient springboard. Whatever the case, it worked, and it worked a bit faster than her process did with women, even though it did require more of her and her Dominique's attention.

Since she first figured it out, they had only had to reset two men's memories. The first, her guinea pig, who had completly built up a resistance to her thanks to her failed efforts, and the seventh, who had been reduced to a crying, quivering mess by months of his mistress' torture beforehand. She was confident in her abilities now, but she was uncertain whether she would be successful with Aaron. Emma had kept him for a while now, and Dominique had described the things that the other giantess had done to him. Arbitrary, ill-timed blending of cruelty and reward that wouldn't really do anything but confuse her toy, or even make him outright hostile with enough time.

It was going to be hard to figure him out, especially since he probably had buried his sense of rebellion good and deep. If Suzy had the choice, she'd just wipe the little man and start fresh, but she would obey the orders of her mistress regardless of her opinions.  

She eyed the little man beneath her, her foot pressing delicately against the soft flesh between his legs, savoring the fear in his face. He couldn't move, he couldn't even twitch an eye, but the terror was still there, clear as day. His chest heaved with his panicked breathing. 

"You serve your mistress," she whispered, her face a mask of sadistic cheerfulness, "Or you serve me."

That was it, the crescendo. Aaron's breath, rapid and fearful, stopped fast. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, frozen in terror as death sped towards it, and Suzy's smile broadened. 

She let him marinate on that statement for a minute, staring at him the entire time, then pushed just a little harder down on his groin. His quick, panicked breath resumed, waiting for her to put all of her weight down, and then she made a show of thinking twice about it. She drew her bare foot back, then planted it square on his belly.

When she put her weight down, it drove the air out of his lungs, and his eyes widened slightly, as much as was possible with his movement frozen. She brought her other leg forward and stood, feet together, hands on naked hips, on his stomach. The flesh underneath yielded far too much, but he couldn't tense his abdominal muscles to support her weight. She was half his height, and so, in normal terms, she barely weighed forty pounds to his two hundred, but it clearly still hurt.

She broke eye contact to flick her hair back carelessly. "It's your choice, I suppose," she said in an airy voice. "I hope you make the right one. I would just love a new toy to play with."

The dull thudding of full-sized feet hitting the ground rapidly approached the room, and Suzy whipped her head around in time to see Emma leaving the kitchen, fully clothed, followed by Dominique, stark naked. Emma passed by the table without so much as glancing down at them, and Suzy leaned down, whispering conspiratorily to the frozen little man. "Oh, look, she's leaving you with us! Isn't that exciting?"

"Thanks again, Dominique," Emma said, her hand on the doorknob.

"Not a problem, really."

"No, I mean it."

Dominique tilted her head down and gave Emma that sultry, half-sarcastic gaze that Suzy loved so much. "Love, you're embarassing yourself." She looked away and flicked her wrist, gesturing for Emma to leave. "Go."

Emma giggled, turning the doorknob and stepping outside. At the last second, she called, "Love you, Dom!" Then she shut the door.

The smile on Dominique's face was genuine, and Suzy was genuinely happy to see it. She fell to her knees on top of the shrunken man's chest, grabbed his face between her hands, and twisted it so that he could see. "Look," she whispered into his ear. "See how happy she is? Why isn't your mistress that happy?" She jerked his head forward again, staring directly into his eyes. "Because you failed," she said, her voice verging on anger.

With that, she straightened up and took a step back, planting her right foot square on top of the tiny man's junk. She put all her weight on it before he could even react, and she could practically feel the pain radiating from his body. She lingered there for a moment, balanced on one leg, the man's testicles holding her entire weight from beneath the arch of her foot, then stepped off of him, turning to face her mistress as her booming foosteps drew up to the table.

"Suzy," she snapped. "We need to talk."

Suzy let her eyes drop, folding her arms in front of her. "Yes, ma'am."

"To the edge."

Suzy hurried forward to the end of the table, her toes curling over the edge, "Yes, ma'am."

"Get ready."

Suzy merely nodded at this, and she started to grow immediately. Rapidly. In seconds, she was at her full height, sitting on the table. She hopped down and returned to her submissive stance. "Grab the boy," Dominique said. "We need to speak privately."

"Yes ma'am," Suzy replied. She span around and scooped the tiny man up from the table. He recoiled a bit as her hand wrapped around him; so Becca had unfrozen him; but there was nothing he could do to resist her. Just a few seconds ago, he had been twice her height, but now he fit comfortably in her fist. She lifted her leg up onto the table, spread open her vulva with her free hand, and effortlessly slid the tiny man into her vagina, feet-first.

So much happened all at once. Suddenly, Suzy had grown into a godess, and, just as soon as he learned that he could move again, he was wrapped up in her hand, traveling towards her crotch at a terrifying speed. Her forefinger and middlefinger pressed against the flesh, parting the lips of her labia and revealing the bright pink underneath. The flesh was smooth, almost impossibly so, with not a hair in sight, and, before he knew what was happening, his feet were sunk up to his knees in the hot flesh.

He struggled fiercely, but he couldn't even free his arms from the woman's grip, and he only had a second before her hand pushed against his head and shoved his entire body inside her. He watched the bright pink, tight walls of her vagina part beneath him, seemingly infinite in their depth, before his feet hit something hard and he stopped.

He looked up... or was it down? And all he saw was more of the same, the tight, muscular walls of the woman's vagina squeezing together just over the tiny pocket of space that surrounded his head. A watertight seal, apparently, beacase, as lubricant slowly eked from the walls around him, his tiny bubble of air started to fill with fluid. He squirmed, and was able to get some of it to drain away, but more came from above, and soon it covered his eyes and his nose.

He took his last few breaths of air; it was hot, and it reeked of the fishy, fleshy smell of the woman's vagina, but it was air; and then his next breath drew down a lungful of steaming-hot, sticky lubricant. Maybe it was a sign of how helpless his situation had become, but he didn't even cough as the thick fluid entered his lungs. 

His balls still ached, and he was still acutely aware of the fact that he was trapped inside the body of his torturer. God only knew what she had planned for him, but he knew that he wouldn't like it.

Emma had given him to this woman, this fucking monster, for training, as if she was dropping off a disobedient pet at Doggy Daycare. Well, he would show her. He would pass this shit with flying colors, he would prove himself a loyal servant, and then, once he earned her trust, he would fucking ruin her.

Alone in Dominique's apartment, she and Suzy could dispense with the formalities of mistress and toy. No need for submissive gestures, reverent titles, or unquestioning obedience. No need for disparate size or for the pointed symbolism of who deserved clothes and who didn't. Suzy sat in a chair at the dinner table, her legs crossed and a cup of hot tea in her hands, and Dominique leaned up against the table, naked as the day she was born, sipping on a cup of the same tea. Suzy wore a pair of her own underwear, but that was only to provide an extra layer of protection between the world and the shrunken man inside her. 

He couldn't hear them, at least not to the point that he could distinguish words, and nobody else could see them, so there was no reason to demonstrate who was in charge. They both knew their place, and they were both abundantly comfortable with it.

But, even so, there were some parts of their relationship that drove deeper than theatre, so Dominique had to lead the discussion. "So, Suzy, what do you think?"

"About what, ma'am?"

Dominique tilted her head down, leveling a stern look at Suzy. "Really?"

The other woman giggled, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to see that look."

Dominique let herself crack a smile, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "But honestly, Suzy, what do you think?"

Suzy turned the cup of tea between her hands thoughtfully. "I think... I think it's going to be hard."

"Oh?"

Suzy nodded. "He's stubborn, and what Emma did to him didn't do us any favors, either."

"So do we need to break him harder, or spend more time building him up?"

"Break him, probably," Suzy replied uncertainly. "But, even then, I think he might internalize it. If we push too hard, he'll resent us even more."

"So what do you recommend?"

"Wipe him," answered Suzy. She spoke with absolute conviction. "This will only work with a fresh slate."

"Hm..." Dominique took a thoughtful sip of her tea. She trusted Suzy's judgement in this, but there was more at play here than even Suzy could know. Emma was her friend, but the revelation that she had acquired a shrunken toy was a shock, to say the least. Still, she had specifically requested that her toy not have his memory wiped, and there was an opportunity there that she dared not speak of. "Could you do it without wiping him?" she asked.

"Probably, but..." Suzy looked like she was about to continue, then fell short with a frustrated sigh.

"But what?" Dominique asked patiently.

"I'm worried that he'll just pretend to go along," Suzy said, avoiding eye contact for a reason that had nothing to do with their relationship. She was proud of her work, and she was afraid to admit that she might be falling short of success. "He'll fake it until we're done with him, and then he'll betray Emma."

"She has total control over his body," Dominique said pointedly. 

Suzy nodded, setting the teacup down on the table. Then, moving so violently that the chair underneath her went flying back, she suddenly had Dominique by the throat, their lips pressed forcefully together. Dominique's teacup was squished between their bodies, a thin trickle of hot tea dribbling down her belly. Her eyes widened in shock, then rolled back in pleasure as Suzy placed her other hand on the back of her head and pulled her forward, probing the inside of her mouth with her tongue.

Then, as soon as it started, it was over. Suzy pulled back, eyeing Dominique's body lustily, then she patiently recovered her chair and sat down in it. She crossed her legs, grabbed her teacup, and said, "Now imagine if I had a knife."

Dominique's hands were shaking a bit. Who exactly was in charge here? She set down the cup and folded her hands in front of her. "Okay..." she said. "We're going to try it anyway. But you let me know if anything seems funny."

Suzy nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Aaron hung there, upside-down inside Suzy, with the blood pooling in his head, for God only knew how long. He didn't even bother struggling; he knew from experience that he wouldn't be able to do much against the relentless pressure of the woman's vagina. Through the tons and tons of throbbing flesh that surrounded him, he could feel the woman moving, and he could hear her speaking, but neither were distinct enough for him to make anything of it. The steady thump-thump of her heartbeat ruled his entire world.

He kicked half-heartedly against the walls that surrounded him, hoping to elicit a response, but nothing happened. He pawed against the hot flesh, trying to pull himself towards the exit, but he couldn't gain any purchase. He was trapped, well and good, waiting for this woman, Suzy, to decide what to do with him.

Fuck, his captor was a toy herself. Barely ten minutes ago, she had been half his height, but the black giantess had sought fit to grow her to full size, and now he was trapped inside her like a living tampon. The helplessness of it all was infurating, but there was nothing he could do at this scale to restore his status as a human being, no matter how loud he screamed or how hard he kicked.

He resented the fact that he resigned to this sense of helplessness so quickly; barely five minutes after he had been forgotten inside this new woman's body, he had stopped trying to worm his way to freedom, and he couldn't muster up the will to continue. He offered one last frustrated kick against the fleshy walls, but he couldn't gain the leverage to do anything but push ineffectually against the massive woman's insides, and it elicited no reaction.

He could feel her moving around, though. The steady, predictable pulse of her heartbeat throbbing against his body was mixed with the irregular thudding of her footsteps. He was rocked left and right by the steady motion of her walk, lifted up and down as she stood and sat. It didn't seem, at least from his limited perspective, that she was doing any aggressive acrobatics, but there was really no way to be sure from here.

The question that nagged at him, however, was whether he would shrink with her if the black giantess decided to shrink her toy back down. If he did, he might wind up smaller than a speck of dust, and an inopportune escape might leave him stuck at a size so small that nobody could ever see him. He imagined being sucked up unwittingly by a vaccum cleaner, tossed carelessly into the garbage and forgotten forever.

He didn't know. And, unless he was sure, he couldn't chance an escape attempt while with these women. He would have to wait it out, endure whatever torture they came up with, until he could return to Emma. But the dull ache that he still felt between his legs reminded him exactly how awful that could be. If Suzy was comfortable torturing him like that right in front of Emma, how much worse could she be when they were in private?

Maybe getting tossed into the trash with a bunch of dust and crumbs was a better option.

Suzy worked with her mistress for the better part of two hours to develop the size schedule they would send to Emma. She led the process, laying out exactly how she planned to break the little man and then build him up again. She even had the privilege of sitting at the computer as they worked, though Dominique loomed over her the entire time. The other woman had thrown on a sweatshirt as the warmth of the tea had worn off, but she was still naked below the waist, practically inviting a pleasurable distraction from the tedious work.

She had also shrunk Suzy. Not much, only a few inches. She probably thought that her loving toy wouldn't notice, but, when Suzy had another shrunken toy inside her, every inch lost made the tiny man that much bigger. Any size change sudden enough had the shocking sensation of penetration; it was almost impossible fokr her to miss. Ever since Dominique had done it, Suzy had been fighting back an insatiable sexual desire, waiting for the cue from her mistress to get the fun started. 

About an hour after they started, Dominique leaned in a bit too close to the computer screen, and Suzy reached up and brushed a soft kiss against her neck. Her mistress leaned into it, begging for more, and Suzy obliged, kissing and sucking gently at the smooth skin. She pulled away after only a few seconds, and saw that Dominique was already breathing heavy, her pulse pounding visibly in the veins of her neck. 

Her mistress took the next move faster than she could have hoped. Her hand was on the back of Suzy's head before she even knew what was happening, and she dragged her forward, forcing their lips together. Suzy was elated, but not too surprised, to feel their tongues start worming together, and she reached back with her right hand and probed her way up the other woman's thigh. She reached the heat of her crotch almost effortlessly, and started to rub carefully at the sensitive flesh.

Dominique gasped into her mouth, her tongue still probing at Suzy's. It was a deeply satisfying sound. Her job momentarily forgotten, Suzy spun around in her chair to face her mistress, bringing her other hand to the woman's neck. They both breathed desperately around each other, greedily sucking down the heat and the scent of one another. Their making out grew more and more furious, until Suzy found herself standing up from her chair, her middle two fingers knuckle-deep in her mistress' vagina, and the sweater discarded on the floor.

There was nothing between them but heat. Suzy could barely tell where her flesh ended and Dominique's began. But her insistent pressure slowly drove both of them to the ground, legs tied up in knots, their mouths seemingly melted together. Eventually, though, Suzy felt an insistent, downward pressure on the top of her head. She raised her gaze to meet Dominique's, and saw a carnal hunger in her eyes.

She obeyed without question, delaying her downwards journey slightly to graze her teeth against her mistress' tender nipples, to lay gentle kisses on her taut stomach. Every brush of her lips was rewarded with goosebumps, nearly-invisible peach fuzz standing on end in the chill air. Soon, though, she was between Dominique's thighs, staring up at a beautiful expanse of flesh, meeting the other woman's eyes over the mound of her breasts. She greeted the other woman's lusty gaze eagerly, breathing deep of the familiar, heady smell of her most intimate parts. 

After as much finger teasing as she dared, she clamped her mouth down on Dominique's pussy. Her mistress let out a pleasured gasp immediately, but Suzy knew that it would be a while before she was finally satisfied.

There was a bit of tedium in this, she had to admit. She spent the next few minutes drawing circles over Dominique's clitoris with her tongue, a rote exercise that was repetitive enough for her mind to start wandering. But she loved hearing Dominique gasp, her hands grasping desperately at her breasts. She loved watching her hips buck and squirm, unwittingly seeking relief from the unceasing stimulation. However repetitive it was, it was worth it.

After riding the familiar rhythms of pleasure for the better part of fifteen minutes, Dominique finally came. Her entire body tightened up, thighs squeezing hard around Suzy's head, fingers gripping white-knuckled at her hair. She could hear her mistress gasping desperately for breath during that one, brief moment where her mind touched heaven.

In that moment, Suzy wanted nothing more than to be inside her. The insistent force of Dominique's hands drawing her forward, of her thighs trying to pop her head open like a grape, it was nothing compared to the comforting heat and pressure of her vagina. Suzy had endured countless orgasms under the strength of the giantess' pelvic muscles. Even where she was, with her mouth filled with the taste of Dominique's pussy and her head crushed between the vice grip of her legs, was a pale imitation of being there to experience the climax. 

Only there, with her entire body buried inside the warm blanket of Dominique's flesh, could she feel like she was truly a part of her mistress' ecstasy. She thought, briefly, about the little man who was inside her, little Aaron, who surely wondered why the heartbeat that pulsed against every inch of his skin was so rapid right now. Did he know what that overriding, primal sense of empathy felt like? Could he ever know what it felt like to be connected to someone, body and soul?

And then Dominique finally came down. A deeply satisfied, half-screaming moan escaped her lips, almost but not quite formed into a coherent curse of pleasure. Her chest heaved, gasping down air, and her hips bucked up and down, carrying Suzy with them. Her legs were relentless, squeezing like they meant to pop her head like a walnut, but Suzy just waited it out, satisfied with her work. She sucked and licked tenderly at the flesh beneath her mouth, trying to keep her mistress going for as long as she could without being overwhelming. 

She was rewarded, after about sixty seconds, by Dominique pushing her away, her legs clamping shut and twisting away to keep her from doing anything more. Suzy was a bit disappointed, but satisfied in her work. She lay there, watching Dominique's entire body writhing about as she rode out the last remnants of her orgasm, savoring that expression of pure pleasure as proof of a job well done.

Finally, her mistress' entire body relaxed. Her legs fell askew, and she propped herself up on her elbows. Her dark skin made it hard to tell, but her face was flushed with pleasure. Her hair was a mess, and sweat beaded up on her forehead despite the cool air. She smiled broadly down at Suzy, full lips parting to reveal brilliantly white teeth. Suzy couldn't help but return the smile. 

They met each other's gaze for a moment, then Dominique let her head fall back, and she let out the first coherent word of the last fifteen minutes. 

"Fuck!"

Suzy giggled. She scooted forward to lay her chin on Dominique's hips, her head square between her legs. "I want to be in there," she said.

"Mmm, I know you do," Dominique replied, reaching her right hand down to run her fingers through Suzy's hair. She felt her mistress' fingers brush a smear of fluid away from her mouth with her thumb. "I want you in there too, but we have a job to do."

Aaron spent hours, maybe even days buried in a world of hot, wet flesh. The pounding heatrbeat of his captor was the only way he could keep time, but the rhythm was so chaotic that it was useless. Occasionally, it was slow, and his fleshy prison was perfectly still. Sometimes, it was rapid, and his entire world was rocked back and forth in a chaotic wirlwind of unpredictable motion. From where he lay, Suzy's normal activities were a stomach-churning roller-coaster, and there was no chance to get off that ride.

Was it hours? Was it days? Was it weeks? He was wrapped from head to toe in tight, muscular flesh, a thick layer of salty lubricant covering every inch of his body. The viscous fluid flowed in and out of his lungs with every breath. He was a slave, an involuntary toy for this woman, and the real insult was that this woman was herself a tiny sex slave.

Where did it end? Would he find a bite-sized toy somewhere in this woman's vagina? How many layers down did the Matryoshka doll go?

There was no answer to that question, but the end to his fluid-soaked sexual torture came quite abruptly. A giant pair of fingers grabbed his head, and, in a quick, violent motion, he was dragged out into the bright light and cool air of the real world.

He hit the ground so hard the air was driven from his lungs, a fall that he knew should have killed him, if the woman didn't already tear her head off by yanking him out like that. He stared up at the spread legs of the massive woman that had torn him from her vagina, until she stepped to the side and looked disdainfully down at his flushed, wet body.

A massive, pale woman, stark-naked with bright blue eyes and dark brown nipples set in the middle of her tight breasts, seemed to regard him with the same care as he would an ant in his kitchen. With the expression on her face, he honestly expected her to lift her foot and stamp on him like he was no more than a bug, but she didn't.

She just stared down at him, and her gaze bore such weight that he couldn't meet it for long. He climbed to his feet, moving slow, waiting for the sole of her foot to come crashing down on top of him just as he started to recover. But it didn't happen. Finally, he made his way to his feet, and found, to his surprise, that Suzy was no longer a goddess of incomprehensible size. Based on a quick observation of his surroundings, he had not grown, but she had shrunk, and now she was a little less than twice his height. When he looked, his eyes were at a level with her belly-button. It was easier to look up at a gaze that was only a few feet above his, but the experience was somehow more intimidating than the stare of a hundred foot-tall giantess.

Finally, she spoke. "Do you know why you're here?" she asked.

Aaron didn't dare respond. There may have been a right answer to the question, but there were far more wrong answers, and he didn't want to invoke the punishment of the wrong answer, not from this woman who seemed to delight in torturing him. He broke eye contact and looked down at his feet.

In response, the massive woman crouched down, bringing her head level to his, and placed her hand under his chin. The size of her fingers relative to his head was not lost on him as he looked into her massive eyes; she could have gripped his head like a grapefruit. She spoke again, her voice overwhelming despite her soft tone, "Tell me, why do you think you're here?"

With her banana-sized fingers holding his jaw, he couldn't look away from those massive, blue eyes. There was no nuance of her expression that escaped his notice at this range, and she seemed honestly curious, if a bit disdainful. He tried to ignore the condescension in her gaze and answered honestly, "You want to train me...?"

She heard the question in his voice, and her gaze narrowed. There was no hostility in her expression, though. She straightened up, keeping one hand outstretched, an invitation to maintain eye contact as she answered his question, "Almost," she said.

Her face hardened quite abruptly and she continued. "You are worth nothing. You have been chosen as your mistress' servant, but you were a day away from being discarded as useless. You are here to learn how to be useful, otherwise... You're just trash."

She said that last bit so flippantly that it sent chills down his spine. Trash? At this insignificant size, what the fuck did that mean? Emma proved that he could be restored to his full size, but also proved that he could be shrunken down to fish food. If he was tossed away by that giantess forever, he had a good idea of which size he would be when he was flushed down the drain.

As if she heard his thoughts, Suzy bent forwards at the waist, bringing her head down towards his. He couldn't help but notice how her breasts sagged as she did so, but the sheer bulk of her form was so intimidating that it made it seem like her body was closing in on him. "Oh, don't fret, I'm sure I'd play with you for a while first," she said with a wicked smile. She brought one of her massive hands down and stroked his face with her thumb. He recoiled instinctively, and her smile broadened.

"I'd love a new toy," she said thoughtfully, her eyes wandering upwards. She bit her lower lip, and her grin grew before she looked back down at him. He could see the hunger in her eyes as she stroked his face again. In that moment, he felt real fear, a fear that froze him in his place. This woman was in the perfect position to arbitrarily decide that he deserved to be her slave, and the memory of what she had done to him was still fresh in his mind. It was the last thing he wanted, but he couldn't say that aloud.

"You wouldn't be the first," she promised, her voice growing husky. The lust in her face was as plain as day now, and her thumb continued to stroke the side of his face. He was only vaguely aware of how the rest of her hand had curled around his back. "The lazy ones, the disobedient ones... the ones I just wanted to play with..."

She leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "They defied me," she said, practically moaning, "I showed them the consequences after their mistresses abandoned them."

Suzy's hand wrapped a little tighter around his back, and she drew a sharp, shaky breath before leaning down to whisper directly into his ear, bleeding sensuality as she continued, "Do it for me," she said. "Fight back, refuse your place. I'll show you what it means to be a toy."

Faced with the massive figure of her body, frozen by the goosebump-raising tone of her voice, Aaron couldn't bear to turn his head to look the woman in the eye. Then, without warning, he felt the hot, wet mass of her tongue against the side of his head. Not a full lick, just a little brush, but he recoiled all the same. Suzy straightened up, a satisfied look on her face, and Aaron just stood there, trembling. The thick layer of saliva on his left ear was chilling in the open air.   

Trying to quell his fear, he looked up at Suzy, though his instinct screamed to avoid eye contact. She was already looking down at him, and it took every last fiber of his being to keep from breaking eye contact and fixing his gaze on his feet. The sexual sight of her tight, muscular body didn't even command his attention anymore; all he felt was fear.

Then, without warning, she grabbed the back of his head and drew him abruptly forwards. At the same time, she fell to her knees. His face was buried in her crotch, and his body was forced down to the ground. In less than a second, her entire weight was borne on her groin, which sat directly on top of his face. The pink, wrinkled flesh of her vulva was all he could see, the warm, fishy scent was all he could smell.

Aaron half expected her to start grinding on him again, facefucking his tiny body like she had before. But she just held him there, pressing his face against the soft flesh between her legs. Far above him, he could hear her taunting voice, muffled from between her massive thighs. "You like that?" she asked. "Get used to the taste. It's gonna be your life if you fuck this up."

Then she finally drew her pussy off his face. Knees on the ground, she walked herself backwards until her face was at a level with his. Her flushed face was the picture of lust, and her flared nostrils showed that she was ready to take this entire situation to its logical conclusion.

Eyes sparkling, she leaned forwards and planted her lips on Aaron's. Her mouth was just barely large enough to consume Aaron's head whole, but she acted for all the world like a horny teenager. Her tongue shoved its way between his lips, greedily slurping up the hot, viscous mix of his saliva and the fluid from her own vagina. It felt like trying to deepthroat a T-bone steak. Aaron had to fight to keep from gagging, afraid that she would interpret it as a sign of rejection.

Finally, she detatched from his face and stood up straight. All he could do was watch her perfect figure step off of him and wipe his face with the back of his hand. He was too stunned, too afraid to do anything else. Finally, she turned her back on him, making to walk away, before, at the last moment, she turned back and said, "Don't disappoint me."

Holy shit. Things had just gotten serious.

Dominique had watched the entire thing from the corner of the room. At his size and in his position, the shrunken man stood no chance of noticing her until she intentionally presented herself, so she could observe Suzy do her work. And she did not disappoint. This whole part of the routine was the good-cop-bad-cop bit, and, at least this early, it worked for both men and women. It had to be tailored a bit, obviously, depending on the subject, but she trusted Suzy to set the stage.

And she was in rare form today. Her performance was so convincing that Dominique wasn't quite sure it was just a performance. She could hear every word her little toy said, and she could see enough of what she did to wonder whether or not Suzy's 'bad cop' act was actualy an act. For all the people she had broken, she had never been anything but professional, but this seemed like something else.

Maybe she was imagining things. Suzy finished her routine and walked away from the stunned shrunken man, striding casually off the edge of the table and onto the pillow that waited below; she had to disappear, but the shrunken toy couldn't hear the sound of the tiny woman's body hitting the floor. Dominique drew a breath and set herself in the mindset of the careless dominatrix, the woman who made a business turning living people into broken, willing sex toys.

She walked towards the table, clothed in nothing but her underwear, with utter confidence. Despite her experience, it took a bit of effort to exude that air of pure fearlessness of whatever judgement her shrunken audience could pass on her body. She had done this so many times, and there were so many men and women out there who had seen her like this, and it was still a challenge. Doubly so now, with the stakes as high as they were with this particular contact.

No, her appearance wasn't important, but how she treated the tiny man, in this delicate stage, was crucial. She had actually learned quite a bit from Suzy in this respect; she had to treat them like they wanted to be a sex toy, like it was something they should strive for. After some experimentation, somewhat unintuitively, the message was best communicated in skimpy garb, rather than fully-clothed or even in the nude. Frankly, she didn't like it, but she accepted it as part of the cost for letting her own shrunken toy manage the training the process.

But, with Aaron specifically, there was nuance. She couldn't afford to make him her enemy. She could lean into the 'good-cop' bit, but she could not let him develop any sense of distrust or resentment against her. Otherwise, everything would be ruined.

"Hey, you're finally awake," she said softly as she approached the table. "Good to see you up. You feeling alright?"

She gave it a beat before she kept talking, but she didn't really bother waiting for a response. "So I've heard that you've had trouble... You know... Getting your girl across the finish line," she said, letting the most passive-aggressive twist onto her face that she could muster. She saw the shift in his tiny face, confusion mixed with embarassment. That was a good sign. "Don't worry about it," she continued in a consoling tone. "Me and Suzy... We can fix that for you."

She sat up on the table, which creaked notably under her weight. She couldn't help but notice that the shrunken man's eyes lingered on her ass as it spread out under her. She smiled; she had him right where she wanted him.

"Oh, come on," she said, her voice growing breathy, "I'm sure you can show us what you're made of, right?" She leaned down, not so far as to be imposing, but enough to drive the point home, "Big guy like you, it doesn't matter how tall I am, does it? I bet you can make me come any time you get the chance."

Dominique lowered her voice and leaned in just a bit more, her tone becoming almost conspiratorial, "Suzy doesn't want you to beat this, but I think you're better than her. I'll be watching; if you can make her come, I'll give you a little treat."

She stood straight up, a sultry smile on her lips. "Yeah, I think you're good for this. The ones before you were trash, some of them were so bad that I just let Suzy keep them, but you're better than that, aren't you."

It wasn't a question. It was a fact, a challenge. She left it at that, turning on her heel and walking out of the room, giving as much swagger to her step as possible. She knew that the Aaron's gaze was fixed on her jiggling, panty-clad ass; she could expect no less from a man. But she also knew that Suzy was about to punish him for it, so she felt a little guilty that she had let herself get involved at all.





Aaron watched Dominique leave the room, enjoying the sight of her hips shifting back and forth as she walked away, but wondering what on earth was going on. Suddenly, a massive foot slammed down beside him, followed by another one on the other side. Each impact was so hard that was almost lifted straight off the ground, and he looked straight up to see the most incredible sight of his life.

Suzy stood over him, in all her clean-shaven glory, at full human size. He hated that he thought of it that way, but it was the only way to describe it. He was barely as tall as her ankles, but she stood straddling his tiny body, her hips tilted back and her torso bent forwards. The massive, muscular columns of her legs led upwards for miles, ending finally at her wide hips. Between her legs, he could see the wrinkled brown flesh of her vulva, pointing up to a tight, flat stomach, an appetizing view from beneath her breasts and, finally, her stern and disappointing gaze.

He immediately regretted the fact that he had allowed his eyes to travel so rudely up her body. He let his gaze fall as soon as he met her eyes and saw the look in them, waiting for the inevitable punishment. Maybe her weight would come crashing down on his head, maybe she'd shove him up her ass, or maybe she'd just straight-up eat him. Didn't matter at this point, did it? He was here for his 'reeducation,' and he had no say in how he was going to be treated for an indefinite amount of time.

"What are you looking at her like that for?" a booming voice asked from above him. He looked up and saw Suzy's severe stare still fixed on him. "What the hell would you do to her even if you had the chance?"

Suzy fell into a deep crouch, bringing her face down to meet him, along with a wash of the warm, fishy smell that emanated from between her legs. Her presence drew close to him in sight, sound, smell, and even the warmth of her body so rapidly that he couldn't suppress the fear that rose in his gut. She didn't seem to notice his eyes widen, or his brief attempt to scramble backwards.

"You had a gorgeous woman shove your entire body into her vagina, or nestle you right up against her clit, positions that any man in the world would envy," she said, sounding almost bored, "You should have been able to control her like a puppet from there, and yet you did so poorly that she brought you here, to me."

She looked up, her expression softening into disappointment. "And you're ogling the woman who I love like you could do even half of what I do," she said. After a moment's thought, she looked back down, and let her ass fall to the surface of the table, shaking his world so hard that he was nearly lifted off the ground again. Even amidst the chaos of the moment, he couldn't help but notice how her breasts bounced when she hit the tabletop.

Her legs stretched out, her thighs flatting against the hard wood of the table, and closed, her feet touching far behind him. Panic immediately set in as he realized that, at a whim, she could crush him with her legs. He couldn't escape even if he wanted to. He looked fearfully up at the massive woman, trying not to let his eyes drift down between her legs, where the dark, warm flesh of her labia hung invitingly over the twin globes of her ass that held it up. Her hips were tilted in such a way that he could almost barely see her asshole as well, and she was leaned so far back, her arms holding her weight behind her, that her face seemed a million miles away.

He could absolutely still hear her voice, though, and her gaze was inescapable as she said, "So you think you can please a woman like that, why don't you try to please a woman like me?"

He looked down at her pussy, nearly as tall as he was and almost so far off the ground that he couldn't reach it, then back up at her with disbelief. In response, she drew her feet a bit closer to her, spreading her ass enough to show the dark pucker of her anus, and opening the wrinkled flesh of her vulva just barely enough to reveal a sliver of the bright pink beneath. "Yes, I'm serious," she purred. "Show me what you're made of, little man. Maybe you can prove we should let you go right now."

It was false hope, he knew it, but it still drew him forwards. The thick, heady smell drew stronger with every step, until he thought he'd choke on it. As he got closer, the nauseating smell of shit hit him as well, wafted up from her exposed asshole, creating a truly disgusting mix of body odors. He grit his teeth and accepted this as something he had to do if he wanted his freedom.

The problem was that her pussy was too high up. God forbid she lean forwards and make it easy for him. He drew within arm's reach of the massive woman's crotch, contemplating how he could get up to really start working at her clit, when he heard the booming voice above him, "Hey, I don't have all day."

Fuck. Could he even win at this? He reached up and got both hands between the bottom of Suzy's labia. The flesh was soft, wet, and pliant, but he weighed so little that it barely moved for him. He was able to pull himself up enough to plant his bare feet on either side of the woman's vulva, wedged into the wrinkles between her thighs and her hips. If she opened her legs at that moment, he'd fall down. If she closed them, he'd be trapped. He just had to trust her goodwill, which he absolutely did not.

He slid one of his arms deep between her labia, feeling the warm, wrinkled flesh of her vagina. He hoped that it would anchor him a little better and he could pull himself up, but it just made things worse. Miles above, Suzy giggled, and her entire body responded, the muscles of her vagina siezing rhythmically. Each pulse drew him further in, despite how hard he tried to pull out, until his entire arm was buried in her vagina, his shoulder lodged between her labia and his head turned outwards in an effort to keep breathing fresh air.

Okay, so care was needed. Slowly, using the lips of her labia as leverage, he drew his arm out and started to climb further up. He heard a satisfied moan from the giantess, but it caused no motion in his narrow world of heat and hormones. After only one or two minutes, he got to the point that he could get his lips on the massive woman's clitoris, hidden though it was in her vulva. He was in a precarious position, but he had no choice, he had to make her come.

So he planted his lips on what he hoped was Suzy's clit, and started going to work. He was so tiny that just licking wouldn't do it, he had to bite and chew; not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to at least dent the flesh. Hopefully, it would be enough stimulation to bring her to orgasm, and he'd just have to endure whatever her body did when she finally came.

But nothing happened. After a long, painful sixty seconds, his arms shaking from the effort of holding him up, the massive woman sighed. The expression carried all the way down to him, nearly shaking him lose as her vagina clenched hard. She leaned forwards, and that did shake him lose. He hit the table beneath her just a second before her pussy came crashing down on top of him. All he could see was the soft pink flesh, all he could hear was her heartbeat, and all he could smell was fish.

Great, he thought. If you wanted to come, you should have done this earlier.

But her voice was still loud and clear. "Was that it? You definitely got me horny, but you did nothing else?"
   
She lifted herself up, just a bit, just enough that he could feel the fresh air and she could grab his fluid-smeared body out from underneath him. In a quick, stomach-churning motion, she drew him up right in front of her massive face. Her dark-brown eyes were as big as his head, and seemed to penetrate to his soul as she said, "So all I want right now is to use you as a dildo." She bit her lip, desire bleeding into her expression, and she looked down, tilting him down as well, just enough that he could see the hot junction between her spread legs. "Is that what you want?" she asked, tilting him back up to look her in the eye again, "You want to be a living aphrodesiac that occasionally gets used as a dildo? If that's so, we're done already. You're ready."

She stared at him for a moment, and it took more than a few seconds for him to realize that she was looking for a response. He hurriedly shook his head, and she continued, "Okay, then, you want to be better. If so, I'm about to tell you a truth you won't like."

Suzy drew him a bit further from her face and said, with nothing but bare naked honesty on her face, "I felt you down there. You shouldn't have bothered with the clit because you didn't have the leverage. You should have just gone straight inside. Do you know where the G-spot is?"

Aaron tried to keep his expression flat, but he was worried that his surprise showed through anyway. He kept silent, hoping that this was one of the massive woman's monologues again, but, unfortunately, it wasn't. A long, awkwardly long period of silence passed before she asked, "Well? Do you?"

After another long, painful period of deliberation, he finally shook his head. "No," he admitted, not even sure she could hear his tiny voice.

"Okay then," she said, nodding. To his surprise, there was nothing on her expression but acceptance, as if he had told a mechanic that he had a flat tire. "We can fix that."

Aaron watched Dominique leave the room, enjoying the sight of her hips shifting back and forth as she walked away, but wondering what on earth was going on. Suddenly, a massive foot slammed down beside him, followed by another one on the other side. Each impact was so hard that was almost lifted straight off the ground, and he looked straight up to see the most incredible sight of his life.

Suzy stood over him, in all her clean-shaven glory, at full human size. He hated that he thought of it that way, but it was the only way to describe it. He was barely as tall as her ankles, but she stood straddling his tiny body, her hips tilted back and her torso bent forwards. The massive, muscular columns of her legs led upwards for miles, ending finally at her wide hips. Between her legs, he could see the wrinkled brown flesh of her vulva, pointing up to a tight, flat stomach, an appetizing view from beneath her breasts and, finally, her stern and disappointing gaze.

He immediately regretted the fact that he had allowed his eyes to travel so rudely up her body. He let his gaze fall as soon as he met her eyes and saw the look in them, waiting for the inevitable punishment. Maybe her weight would come crashing down on his head, maybe she'd shove him up her ass, or maybe she'd just straight-up eat him. Didn't matter at this point, did it? He was here for his 'reeducation,' and he had no say in how he was going to be treated for an indefinite amount of time.

"What are you looking at her like that for?" a booming voice asked from above him. He looked up and saw Suzy's severe stare still fixed on him. "What the hell would you do to her even if you had the chance?"

Suzy fell into a deep crouch, bringing her face down to meet him, along with a wash of the warm, fishy smell that emanated from between her legs. Her presence drew close to him in sight, sound, smell, and even the warmth of her body so rapidly that he couldn't suppress the fear that rose in his gut. She didn't seem to notice his eyes widen, or his brief attempt to scramble backwards.

"You had a gorgeous woman shove your entire body into her vagina, or nestle you right up against her clit, positions that any man in the world would envy," she said, sounding almost bored, "You should have been able to control her like a puppet from there, and yet you did so poorly that she brought you here, to me."

She looked up, her expression softening into disappointment. "And you're ogling the woman who I love like you could do even half of what I do," she said. After a moment's thought, she looked back down, and let her ass fall to the surface of the table, shaking his world so hard that he was nearly lifted off the ground again. Even amidst the chaos of the moment, he couldn't help but notice how her breasts bounced when she hit the tabletop.

Her legs stretched out, her thighs flatting against the hard wood of the table, and closed, her feet touching far behind him. Panic immediately set in as he realized that, at a whim, she could crush him with her legs. He couldn't escape even if he wanted to. He looked fearfully up at the massive woman, trying not to let his eyes drift down between her legs, where the dark, warm flesh of her labia hung invitingly over the twin globes of her ass that held it up. Her hips were tilted in such a way that he could almost barely see her asshole as well, and she was leaned so far back, her arms holding her weight behind her, that her face seemed a million miles away.

He could absolutely still hear her voice, though, and her gaze was inescapable as she said, "So you think you can please a woman like that, why don't you try to please a woman like me?"

He looked down at her pussy, nearly as tall as he was and almost so far off the ground that he couldn't reach it, then back up at her with disbelief. In response, she drew her feet a bit closer to her, spreading her ass enough to show the dark pucker of her anus, and opening the wrinkled flesh of her vulva just barely enough to reveal a sliver of the bright pink beneath. "Yes, I'm serious," she purred. "Show me what you're made of, little man. Maybe you can prove we should let you go right now."

It was false hope, he knew it, but it still drew him forwards. The thick, heady smell drew stronger with every step, until he thought he'd choke on it. As he got closer, the nauseating smell of shit hit him as well, wafted up from her exposed asshole, creating a truly disgusting mix of body odors. He grit his teeth and accepted this as something he had to do if he wanted his freedom.

The problem was that her pussy was too high up. God forbid she lean forwards and make it easy for him. He drew within arm's reach of the massive woman's crotch, contemplating how he could get up to really start working at her clit, when he heard the booming voice above him, "Hey, I don't have all day."

Fuck. Could he even win at this? He reached up and got both hands between the bottom of Suzy's labia. The flesh was soft, wet, and pliant, but he weighed so little that it barely moved for him. He was able to pull himself up enough to plant his bare feet on either side of the woman's vulva, wedged into the wrinkles between her thighs and her hips. If she opened her legs at that moment, he'd fall down. If she closed them, he'd be trapped. He just had to trust her goodwill, which he absolutely did not.

He slid one of his arms deep between her labia, feeling the warm, wrinkled flesh of her vagina. He hoped that it would anchor him a little better and he could pull himself up, but it just made things worse. Miles above, Suzy giggled, and her entire body responded, the muscles of her vagina siezing rhythmically. Each pulse drew him further in, despite how hard he tried to pull out, until his entire arm was buried in her vagina, his shoulder lodged between her labia and his head turned outwards in an effort to keep breathing fresh air.

Okay, so care was needed. Slowly, using the lips of her labia as leverage, he drew his arm out and started to climb further up. He heard a satisfied moan from the giantess, but it caused no motion in his narrow world of heat and hormones. After only one or two minutes, he got to the point that he could get his lips on the massive woman's clitoris, hidden though it was in her vulva. He was in a precarious position, but he had no choice, he had to make her come.

So he planted his lips on what he hoped was Suzy's clit, and started going to work. He was so tiny that just licking wouldn't do it, he had to bite and chew; not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to at least dent the flesh. Hopefully, it would be enough stimulation to bring her to orgasm, and he'd just have to endure whatever her body did when she finally came.

But nothing happened. After a long, painful sixty seconds, his arms shaking from the effort of holding him up, the massive woman sighed. The expression carried all the way down to him, nearly shaking him lose as her vagina clenched hard. She leaned forwards, and that did shake him lose. He hit the table beneath her just a second before her pussy came crashing down on top of him. All he could see was the soft pink flesh, all he could hear was her heartbeat, and all he could smell was fish.

Great, he thought. If you wanted to come, you should have done this earlier.

But her voice was still loud and clear. "Was that it? You definitely got me horny, but you did nothing else?"
   
She lifted herself up, just a bit, just enough that he could feel the fresh air and she could grab his fluid-smeared body out from underneath him. In a quick, stomach-churning motion, she drew him up right in front of her massive face. Her dark-brown eyes were as big as his head, and seemed to penetrate to his soul as she said, "So all I want right now is to use you as a dildo." She bit her lip, desire bleeding into her expression, and she looked down, tilting him down as well, just enough that he could see the hot junction between her spread legs. "Is that what you want?" she asked, tilting him back up to look her in the eye again, "You want to be a living aphrodesiac that occasionally gets used as a dildo? If that's so, we're done already. You're ready."

She stared at him for a moment, and it took more than a few seconds for him to realize that she was looking for a response. He hurriedly shook his head, and she continued, "Okay, then, you want to be better. If so, I'm about to tell you a truth you won't like."

Suzy drew him a bit further from her face and said, with nothing but bare naked honesty on her face, "I felt you down there. You shouldn't have bothered with the clit because you didn't have the leverage. You should have just gone straight inside. Do you know where the G-spot is?"

Aaron tried to keep his expression flat, but he was worried that his surprise showed through anyway. He kept silent, hoping that this was one of the massive woman's monologues again, but, unfortunately, it wasn't. A long, awkwardly long period of silence passed before she asked, "Well? Do you?"

After another long, painful period of deliberation, he finally shook his head. "No," he admitted, not even sure she could hear his tiny voice.

"Okay then," she said, nodding. To his surprise, there was nothing on her expression but acceptance, as if he had told a mechanic that he had a flat tire. "We can fix that."




Despite the Drill Instructor routine she did as part of her act, Suzy felt no malice against the shrunken man. To be honest, she kind of felt sorry for him. He was just another toy who didn't understand the privilege of his new station, and she felt duty-bound to show him the exciting new life that awaited him. His instinctive aversion to the messy realities of his mistress' body could not be completely eliminated, but they could be overcome by latching a sense of duty onto his job.

And that was why she transitioned so quickly to the role of teacher. She was the savior of the hopeless, a woman who redeemed lost causes. And, come hell or high water, she would teach this tiny man how to do his new job, how to do it well, and how to enjoy his new life doing it.

And, to do that, she needed the help of her mistress. Back in the day, coordinating it would have been a sloppy process, as they figured out on the fly how much giantess intervention was necessary. After years of practice, though, they had determined exactly where Suzy could be most effective both with and without Dominique's assistance. And, soon, based on a program that had been proven time and time again, Suzy would drag her new student into Dominique's tutelage.

Aaron was a sex toy, and he would be one for the rest of his life. Maybe, when Suzy had assumed responsiblity of him, he didn't understand that. Maybe he still entertained fantasies of escaping and living a normal human life. But he had had plenty of opportunities to learn and internalize the fact that his state as an invincible, living toy was irreversible. Her first task had always been establishing that reality without explicitly saying it. After all, telling someone that they were a slave inevitably fomented rebellion, while showing them that they were one encouraged obedience.

After her quick, relatively high-intensity introduction for the shrunken man, the time had come to bring her mistress back into the picture. Not just as a speaker or a size prop as she had been before; Suzy could accomplish those jobs herself; but as a participant. A passive, dismissive one, behaving the way that a woman should towards her sex toy.

She made a quick sign towards Dominique, watching from out of sight, to tell her that she was done with the first step. In response, Suzy shrank rapidly down to the man's own size, an abrupt and shocking shift in perspective that was still extremely disorienting to her. It took the man by surprise, too, and he scrambled back a bit, fear written on his face despite the fact that her size had become much less imposing to him.

Well, clearly she carried authority with him regardless of her size. She slowly sauntered forwards, their gazes locked, and he shrank back as she did. By the time she was straddling him, he was almost flat on his back, eyes wide. "Who was the last woman you had sex with?" she asked.

He seemed confused, even though it was a straightforward enough question. He saw him glance down slightly, and she rolled her eyes, "Not me, you idiot." She shook her head dismissively and extended her hand for him to grab. "Stand up," she ordered.

Aaron grabbed her hand obediently and hauled himself to his feet. She held on to his hand and pressed up close to them, guiding his hand between her legs. She wrapped her other arm around her back, and felt him cringe a bit. There was nothing between their bodies but heat, and, though her body language was that of a lover, his was still all fear and uncertainty.

Carefully, she placed the palm of his hand on her crotch, then put her hand on the back of his, their fingers overlapping. Then she pushed his middle two fingers into her pussy with hers, letting out a breath of pleasure into his ear.

"Squeeze," she purred. And he offered a halfhearted tickle in response. "Harder."

He got it, a bit at least. It felt good, but, without more stimulation, it was just pressure. "Feel that?" she whispered, "Like the brake on a bike, rub it, pull on it. As hard as you can."

He finally did it, and kept doing it, and her knees weakened at the sudden wave of pleasure. She almost melted into him, wondering what harm it would do to let him finish before they continued. "Keep going," she moaned, "Just like that."

She caught Dominique out of the corner of her eye, silently approaching the table, and slapped his hand away, stepping back. He immediately retreated like a rebuked puppy, but Suzy didn't push him, focusing instead on ignoring the warmth and the wet between her legs. It took her a second to compose herself, but, when she did, there was no trace left of her lust in her voice. "Now let's see if you can do it from inside a woman."

With perfect timing, Dominique's hand slammed into her from the back barely a second after she finished speaking, wrapping around the pair of them and pressing them into a unwilling lovers' embrace. Suzy's stomach dropped as she rose into the sky, and, unable to see anything but the dark flesh of her mistress' palm, and with heat surrounding her from head to toe, the movement was panic-inducing.

Then, in an equally-disorienting move, they were flipped upside-down. Suzy knew what was happening long before the shrunken man did, based on his shocked face at the sudden motion. So she was not at all surprised when the cold air around her feet was replaced with the sensation of warm, soft, wet flesh. Aaron was, though. She felt his entire body twitch in surprise at the sudden transition. With that kind of reaction, she thought, he was not going to enjoy what happened next.

She only had a split-second view of what would happen next. Dominique opened her hand just barely enough for her to see the dark brown flesh of her crotch, a tiny sliver of pink vulnerability showing through the wrinkled labia. Aaron, too busy worrying about his immediate surroundings, had no idea what was about to happen to him, and Suzy had no intention to warn him.

In an instant, both of them were shoved from head to toe into Dominique's vagina. Suzy welcomed the sudden warmth and pressure, the feeling of the soft flesh against every curve of her body, but the shrunken man beside her clearly did not share her perspective. He started to struggle like a man cast into the ocean. He writhed violently back and forth, twisting and squirming with everything he could muster. It wasn't much; the giantess' vaginal walls were like a latex glove, restricting all movement; but it was enough to be distracting to any woman.

Most of all Suzy. This panicked amateur was pressed up right against her face. She got tired of that kind of behavior rather quickly. "Hey!" she barked. Her voice didn't carry at all when surrounded by flesh, but, fortunately, Aaron was so close as to be hugging her. She was shouting directly into his ear, so he heard everything quite clearly. "Calm down!"

It took a few seconds, but he did eventually settle down. She tried to adjust herself, to get a more professional position against the shrunken man, but the walls of Dominique's vagina held them together too tight. Aaron could have had sex with her without moving, but, fortunately, that didn't occur to him just yet. She was pressed up against him well enough that she knew that he was still soft. If she let things rest, though, he might get adventurous, and, even though she lived her life as a sex toy, she didn't enjoy the prospect of being raped while inside another woman. So she had to get things moving, and fast.

"This is your chance to prove yourself," she said. Now that he had calmed down, she could speak normally. Despite the pounding of Dominique's heartbeat that surrounded them on all sides, the two of them were pushed so closely together that neither of them could speak but directly into each others' ear. The steady thump-thump of the giantess' pulse was deafening, and the flesh around them muted every other sound, but Aaron could still hear her speak.

She grabbed the man's head and forced him to look in her eyes, "You know where her G-spot is now, right?"

His wide-eyed, fearful expression took a moment to resolve itself into a semblance of reason. When he finally managed to compose himself, he nodded frantically.

"Good," Suzy said, assuming a sultry smile. "Then show her."

Pressed against him as she was, she didn't really have full visiblity on what he was doing. She could see that his arms and legs were both moving, carefully exploring the inside of her mistress' vagina around Suzy's slender figure, but she couldn't really tell if he was accomplishing anything. Frankly, she wasn't even sure if he was doing it on the right side; Dominique had shoved them inside her pussy too fast for her to figure out how they were oriented.

But the giantess' body proved the success of his effort. After only about a minute of his delibierate massaging of the inside of Dominique's vagina, her pelvic muscles clenched hard, driving the air out of Suzy's lungs as she was pushed even harder against Aaron's body. For the brief moment of that punishing contraction, she could feel that even Aaron had to stop moving.

But when it finally let up, when she was able to pull herself back far enough to actually see Aaron's face, she saw the greedy, horny expression there. Only then did she realize that he had grown hard in that short moment of the giantess' contraction, and there was no escaping his next move.

Aaron was positioned perfectly. His hands slid down her back, cupped her ass, and guided her hips directly onto his dick. She felt it enter her, and, despite herself, let out a moan at the sudden sensation of that warm body filling her. Then Aaron started to thrust, using his arms and legs against the flexible walls of the giantess' pussy as leverage.

Dominique's pelvic muscles closed hard around them again, and Suzy realized that the tiny man was somehow both having sex with her and stimulating her mistress' G-spot. What the fuck was he doing? How could he be this good when he had seemed so unwilling just half an hour ago?

Then he drove his dick deep into her, and she lost track of that line of thought, a pleasured moan escaping her lips, immediately lost to the flesh that surrounded her. Fuck it. Just let him do his thing.

Suzy wrapped her arms and legs around the shrunken man, leaving him to use the leverage of the giantess' vaginal walls to fuck her good and hard. She could feel his arms and legs moving behind her, and, after only a few short seconds, felt the muscles that surrounded her body squeeze hard.

The giantess' contraction barely slowed him down, and Suzy really didn't care to try and stop him either. Eyes closed, she savored the feeling of his cock thrusting into her, again, and again, and again, and again, and again. Minutes passed, and so did Dominique's vaginal contractions. Clearly, Aaron was doing an impressive job pleasing her, and he wasn't doing too poorly with Suzy, either. Just a few more minutes...

Then he came. She felt the hot shot of fluid inside her clear as day, and his entire body shuddered against hers as he blew his load. She rolled her eyes. She had been so close, but he had dropped the ball, and she knew her mistress well enough to know that he hadn't managed to finish her off either.

Rare was the man who could disappoint two women at once. She had really hoped that this guy would be able to pull it off, but there was nothing really lost by his failure.

If Suzy had control over the guy's size, she'd shrink him down and use him as a dildo in the midst of his own sperm; finish herself off after the disappointing ending he had given her. But she didn't, so she could only carry on with the training script.

"You almost had it," she said playfully, pecking him on the lips, "We'll make a toy out of you yet."

Aaron was in a living hell. A punishment, he was sure, but he couldn't tell what he had done to deserve it. He couldn't tell what he was supposed to learn from it, and he had no idea when it was going to end. All he could do was endure it, and pray that it would end soon.

Suzy was fully-sized, fully-clothed, and had shrunk him down to barely four inches. He was buried in her asshole up to his neck, left to struggle desperately against the ordeal of the giantess' life. With every step she took, the enormous muscles that surrounded him shifted painfully up and down, grinding painfully across his head. Sweat poured from the flesh that surrounded him, filling his world with a sour stench and a salty taste.

No matter how hard he fought, he had no chance of earning reprieve from this torture. The giantess' careless gait tossed him back and forth, and her muscles beat at him from one side, then the other, with every step that she took. It was hot, painful, and the only air to breathe was the nauseating miasma of stench that most people kept trapped within the waistband of their underwear.

How long had it been? Hours? Days? Long enough that he had settled from shock and disbelief at his hostile, miserable existence to a calm, if uncomfortable acceptance of his conditions. It was part of a broader lesson he had learned in what was undoubtedly weeks spent under the giantess' 'instruction.' He was at the point, now, where he was at least familiar with what he could expect when Suzy decided where she wanted to 'store' him. Be it her pocket, her shoe, her underwear, or whatever other weird accessory or body part she found most entertaining at the time, he knew what was going to happen. There was no more shock to it, there was just discomfort that had to be endured until it was over.

He had to admit that Suzy keeping him in her asshole was a new one. It would have struck him as too uncomfortable, especially for a long period of time. But here he was, helpless against the flexing muscles that squeezed around his head from both sides.

He was fully aware of how pathetic it was that even bothered to think about how his unfortunate position was how unpleasant it might be for the woman who had put him there.

Finally, light came flooding in from the outside world. His eyes blinded, Aaron gulped down the first breaths of fresh air that he had enjoyed in what felt like forever. But he barely had a moment to process the sudden change before he felt Suzy's fingers on his head, pinching down so hard as to squash his skull. He let out a yelp, but the giantess was unrelenting. She pulled, pulled, and pulled, yanking him with careless force completely out of her asshole.

She didn't savor, and she didn't linger. In barely seconds, Aaron's entire body was squeezed painfully out of the giantess' asshole and out into the outside world, the open air chilling against skin coated in slimy bodily fluids.

Before he could get his bearings, he was flying through the air, tossed aside carelessly by the giantess whose weight he had suffered under for the last eternity. A muted television, a cheap desk chair, a fluorescent overhead light, and he hit the surface of a bed so hard that it drove the wind from his lungs.

A hotel room. He could figure that much from what he had seen, but he had to focus on catching his breath for now. He stared up at the dull white ceiling, gasping like a fish out of water, trying to recover from the shocking transition.

Fuck. Was it going to be like this every time? He wasn't sure he could get used to this.

He heard the door open, and managed to twist his head around to see it. A hotel room, definitely. The door had the chain bolt and keycard reader to prove it. Dominique stepped in, dressed in tight jeans and a loose T-shirt, seeming not even to notice Aaron's tiny body. Suzy was just a step away, hiking her pants back up to her waist after removing Aaron from his miserable prison.

Dominique was the first to speak, though she waited for the door to shut before she did so. ''You fly out tonight?''

Suzy nodded, doing up the buttons to her pants. ''At nine, or so.''

''I'll see you in London, then.''

It was too much for Aaron. Where the fuck was he?

"Safe travels, love,'' Suzy said. She stepped up to Dominique and gave her a peck on the lips.

In any other context, Dominique's loving smile might have been heartwarming, but not when it was on the face of the woman who had taken on the task of 'training' him to be a sex slave. "You too," she said.

Suzy looked back at Aaron, and he felt himself shrink back involuntarily under her hungry gaze. She saw his reaction, and a predatory smile started to creep onto her face. "When do we get to have fun with him together?" she asked.

"Soon," Dominique promised. She didn't even bother to look Aaron's way. "Soon enough. Now get out of here before the cab leaves."

Suzy tore her gaze from Aaron with clear reluctance. "Love you," she said.

"I love you too."

As Suzy opened the door, Dominique gave her a gentle slap on the ass, prompting a yelp of surprise. Suzy looked back, one foot outside and the other inside, debating whether to give the other giantess another kiss. Then, apparently deciding against it, she slid out the door and let it fall shut behind her.

The moment the latch clicked shut, Dominique's gaze snapped towards Aaron.

He cringed instinctively under the giantess' gaze. But, despite his visceral panic, her expression was calm, without a single hint of sexual or sadistic intent. It took a minute, but she maintained eye contact with him, seeming to will him to be calm, urging him that there was, for now, nothing to be afraid of.

He didn't trust it for a moment, but it had the psychological effect she wanted. He didn't run, he didn't hide, and he didn't even think for a moment that this was his first and best real opportunity to try either of those things in his whole time shrunken.

After a moment, Dominique broke eye contact, then shed the bag she had on her shoulders, unzipped it, and pulled out a six-pack of beer. "Want a drink?"



If she had timed it right, Dominique had less than five minutes before the shrunken man would be raised to full size. Three hundred seconds, every one of which was crucial, because, under any other circumstance, an unwilling shrinkee would take the opportunity to fight or to flee. Aaron, as far as she could tell, was a pretty sturdy dude; he could overpower her easily, and, according to the schedule, he wouldn't be shrunken back down until tomorrow morning. She had to tread very carefully.

That's why she had opened with the beer.

She crossed the room with a lazy pace, fully aware that she was on a timer, but dedicated to keeping up appearances. She pulled two bottles out of the pack before throwing the rest into the mini-fridge under the television. She didn't have a bottle opener, so she took one bottle and put the cap against the edge of the television stand, and smacked it with her palm, popping the first bottle open with a tiny spray of beer.

"In five minutes, you're about to grow to full size," she said, looking at the tiny man stranded in the middle of the mattress. "You can run, you can fight, or you can listen to what I have to say." She took a sip of her beer. "But here's the thing. The only reason I want you at full size for this is so you understand I'm telling the truth, you understand?"

She eyed the tiny man for long enough that, eventually, he caught on that he should nod in response. Fuck, mate. The clock is ticking.

"We could fight. You'll probably win," Dominique said. "Or you could crack a beer with me and we could have an honest conversation about what's going on here."

The tiny man seemed skeptical, so Dominique took the second bottle and opened it like she had the first, placing it on the nightstand next to the bed the tiny man lay on. "Trust me," she said, "You'll want to hear what I have to say."

Aaron's tiny face still betrayed his every thought, and he was clearly torn between curiosity and suspicion. With her time as the dominant party quickly diminishing, Dominique could not afford the latter, so she dug into her bag and produced her badge, flipping it open for him to see.

"Dominique Tipper, Interpol," she said, with the most serious tone she could manage. "You're my best contact right now, so please... Listen to what I have to say."

That appeared to mollify him, and just in time. She checked her watch. Less than thirty seconds left. Moving as calmly as she could, she put her own beer down and grabbed the one she had just opened off the nightstand. In that moment, Aaron's tiny figure exploded into full size.

The transition was clearly shocking for him, but, as he regained his bearings, she offered the beer. "Here," she said, "Have a drink."

Aaron was a bigger man than she expected. He had more than six inches on her, and, with his broad shoulders and thickly muscled frame, could very well weigh twice as much as she did. But, despite the clear shift in the power dynamic between the two of them, he still held himself like he was the shrunken, submissive party. Refusing to make eye contact, he took the beer, then brought it towards his lap without taking a sip.

Dominique grabbed her own beer and extended the bottle as a toast. "Come on," she said. "Enjoy it."

Aaron lifted his gaze to meet hers. He was a broken man, she could see as much in his expression, but he raised his bottle and clinked it against hers. She took a drink when he did, and he followed her example.

He was still naked. Maybe clothing could help. She went to the closet and pulled out a bathrobe. "Here," she said, tossing the thin garment at him. "Get comfortable. We have all night."

Aaron, moving uncertainly, put the bathrobe on, then sat back down on the bed to take another swill of beer. He was still acting like an abused puppy, but Dominique supposed that, given what he had undergone under Suzy's instruction, she couldn't expect anything else. Honestly, it made her feel a bit better about how this interaction could work out for her; she had entered it with the fullest expectation that the tiny man could try to kill her in a desperate bid to escape his life as a sex toy.

Dominique was trying to figure out when it would be appropriate to give her pitch, then Aaron let out a deep, exhausted sigh. He looked up at her, his expression desperate, and he asked, "What's happening?"

Dominique nodded slowly. That was all she needed. "You've been kidnapped by a international sex trafficking organization. They sold you to Emma, and she brought you to me."

"Can't you help me?" Aaron asked.

The desperation in his voice was heartbreaking. She wanted nothing more than to be able to say 'yes,' but she couldn't. "I can't, at least not for now," she said.

His shoulders sagged, and his gaze drifted downwards. She had never seen such a dejected expression all her years doing this, though she had never had a contact so close to the problem.

"Look," she said. Aaron kept his gaze down, barely twitching in response to her voice. "Hey, look!" His eyes came up, meeting hers, "We're trying to figure all this shit out. You're not the only one. In fact, you're lucky that I found you. If you help me, we can blow this thing open."

That seemed to get his attention. His expression perked up, and he took a sip of his beer. "How?" he asked.

"We've been trying to pin this organization down for almost two years," Dominique said. "We don't really understand how they're shrinking people, we don't really know what the shrinking even does. They're kidnapping people to shrink, but we don't know how or why, and the people they kidnap have their memories wiped, so they can't help."

"So..."

"So you're our best chance to answer those questions," Dominique said, "Through Emma, we can start to draw the full picture. But we can't move until we have all the facts, otherwise this Program will disappear, and we're back at square one."

Aaron downed the rest of his beer in a single gulp. "Then what do you want from me?"

"Play along," Dominique said. "Be the thing Emma wants you to be."

Aaron's gaze dropped again. That was a brutal thing for him to accept, she knew, but his sense of helplessness could be as dangerous, in the long run, as a refusal to cooperate entirely. He had to realize that he was doing this for the greater good. Fuck, Dominique had put her life on the line merely by trying to recruit him. Her adversary was vast, mysterious, and powerful; if they caught wind of her efforts, she might disappear without a trace, maybe sold off as a shrunken sex toy to whoever could afford it.

"Look, she didn't wipe your memory. For some reason, she doesn't want to," Dominique told him. She grabbed another beer from the pack, opened it, and handed it to him in exchange for his empty glass. "That puts you in a unique position. I convince her that you need to come back to me periodically, and you can tell me what you've learned from being with her."

"I've learned nothing!" Aaron exclaimed, surging forward with surprising violence. "She's tortured me! This other girl... Suzy, that bitch... She's tortured me too! And you did nothing, and now you want me to..." He fell back, running his hand through his hair. "Fuck. When does this end?"

Dominique felt for him, she really did, but her empathy was tainted by her fear. Did he know how much power he had over her merely by how she had exposed herself to him? Would it be worse if he didn't know? He could say three words, 'Dominique is Interpol,' and she'd disappear forever, probably as a shrunken sex slave for a particularly sadistic customer. "I can't say for sure," she said. "The more information you can pass me, the sooner I can help you."

"Okay..."

"That means that you have to seem as willing as possible. Earn her trust. Meet her friends and family. Report as much back to me as you can." Dominique paused. Maybe diplomacy should take a back seat to honesty here. "It might be easier than you think. Do you know what she wants from you?"

Aaron shook his head and shrugged. "To make my life a living hell," he said bitterly.

"She wants a loyal slave. She doesn't want to have to shrink you down and shove you up her cooter for the rest of her life, she wants someone she can trust to be loyal to her, no matter what size. If I send you back to her, and you show that you're that person, then you might spend more of you're time at full size than not."

"Like that... Suzy?" Aaron asked. Dominique nodded. "Is she in on it too?" he asked.

"No," answered Dominique. "She's one of the few people who volunteered to be shrunk, so she's totally willing. It's complicated, and some of the things she does are... unpleasant... but it really helps to have her here."

"Unpleasant?" Aaron demanded. "You saw what she did to me! You watched! Fuck, you helped!"

Dominique nodded somberly, trying to keep calm in the face of his rising anger. "And you're not the only one. It breaks my heart to support this kind of evil shit, but every shrunken person is another thread back to a client of the Program, which helps us uncover who they are and where they operate." She tossed back the rest of her beer and slammed the bottle down. "Once we put all the pieces together, we're going to go full Nuremberg on these motherfuckers."

She sat down on the bed next to Aaron. "Look," she said, "I'm asking a lot of you. All that disgusting, degrading shit you've had to experience so far, it's probably going to keep happening, and I don't know for how long. But you're my best chance so far to blow it open. Can you help me?"

Aaron swung his beer bottle between his fingers, watching the fluid slosh around inside the brown glass. He was silent for a long moment, and Dominique was silent too, letting him think about his answer for as long as he had to.

"I think..." He paused, then nodded, "I think I can. Can you help me?"

"In time," Dominique promised. "If this goes well, Emma will be the first to go down, and you'll be the first to be freed."

"Why me?" he asked.

Dominique sighed. "I don't know. Bad luck, I guess. But Emma chose not to wipe your memory when she had the chance. For some reason, she wants you to remember everything, so that makes you my best chance to uncover that fucked-up Program that brought you here in the first place."

"Okay..."

"Look, here's the plan. When you get back to Emma, you're going to be the perfectly loyal slave she wants you to be. She'll probably dump her boyfriend, then she'll start going around in public with you at her side. At home, in the bedroom, she'll probably abuse you like she has already, but, if you pretend like you're willing, you'll get to live the closest thing to a normal life you can hope for." Dominique was talking out her ass, and she knew it. This was pure supposition based on what she had experienced with the other clients she had worked with. "You'll meet all of the weird socialites she associates with, the millionaires, the superstars, the power brokers. Any time any one of them even implies a role in the Program, you commit everything to memory and bring it back to me, okay?"

Aaron nodded. "Is that what they call it? The 'Program?'"

"As far as we can tell, yes," Dominique answered. "Do you think you can do this?"

Aaron took a deep breath, and let it out with a shake of his head. Dominique waited patiently as he stared into the middle distance, beer in hand, contempleting what he was buying himself into. After a minute, he took another drink, and looked up at her. "I'm in," he said.

Dominique nodded somberly. "Good." She stood up and went to pick up her bag from the floor. "Now, let's find out who the hell you are."

"What?" he asked.

"The Program wipes the memories of everyone it kidnaps. We don't know how, yet, but your DNA is still the same," said Dominique. She pulled a fingerprint kit out of her bag and a cotton swab. "This is our best chance to return you to the life you had before. You okay with that?"

Aaron nodded, and extended his hand. Dominique inked his fingertips and led him through the process of committing his fingerprints to paper. Then she ran the cotton swab against the inside of his cheek and deposited it in a plastic bag. What she couldn't tell him was that there was no way she could make a search for this biometric data until the risk provided by the Program had been eliminated.

"You'll remain full-sized until tomorrow morning," she said. "I couldn't afford to leave you like that any longer, to keep up appearances. We're flying back to London tomorrow, and I'll return you to Emma. It'll be boring, but it'll at least be comfortable."

"Okay..." said Aaron.

"I'll be in the room next door. Your key is on the desk. Just knock if you need me," Dominique said. She made her way to the door of the hotel room, and paused on her way out to turn back. "I'm counting on you," she said. "If you pull this off, we'll put these cunts away forever."

Emma wore a broad grin as she made her merry way back to Dom's house. The training period was over, and she had been told, in a cryptic text message that was apropos of the Program, that it had been a resounding success. Her tiny man, Aaron, was a totally willing slave. In fact, as Dominique said it, he actually wanted to see her. She could barely hide her excitement.

A small corner of her brain wondered how she would go about dumping her boyfriend. She certainly didn't need him anymore, not with a loyal slave who could live at any size. In hopeful expectation of this moment, she had already started to distance herself from him, but he still had a key to her flat. She'd have to take care of that, and without attracting too much attention from the press. Maybe she could do it late on a Saturday evening. That would help.

She knocked on Dominique's door, and the woman answered almost immediately, looking for all the world like she had just rolled out of bed. A baggy T-shirt, extremely generous gym shorts, and hair that formed a wild, unkempt halo around her head. Even so, the girl's sloppy appearance had a certain charm. "Emma, love! Welcome back!" she exclaimed. She opened the door a bit wider and invited Emma to come in.

"Happy to see you, Dom."

"It's my pleasure, for sure," replied Dominique. "So your little Aaron is exactly where you wanted him to be."

"Really?"

"Oh, it took a while. Might've been easier if you let me wipe him," Dominique said with a wink, "But I think you'll like what you see. He's in the other room, come on."

Emma followed, letting the door slam shut behind her. She couldn't help but notice Suzy sitting at the table in the living room, wearing more clothes than Dominique did, and reading the fucking newspaper. Really? She had so many questions about that, but kept them to herself.

But, as she turned the corner, she saw the man... Aaron... standing upright, full-sized, his hands crossed behind his back, seemingly waiting for orders like a soldier in formation. His skin was ghostly pale; understandable, given what he had experienced for the last month or so; but he had a really, really impressive figure, lean and covered in wiry muscle, with barely a single hint of fat to soften the edges. But Emma's eyes couldn't help but gravitate down below his waist, where an impressive dick swung surprisingly far down.

Emma gaped. She had complete control over this man. She already knew that she could enter his mind and control his body, but had largely refrained from doing so during the training after trying once and having to endure even a few moments of the incredible, suffocating pressure of being under some giantess' foot. But what was the point of doing so now? If Dom was right, he'd obey her every word, so no explicit control was needed.

But she wasn't really comfortable with a sexual display of her control, not right now, not with Dominique watching and Suzy just in the other room. Instead, she straightened up, looked the man in the eyes, and said, "You, Aaron. Who do you belong to?"

"I belong to you, mistress," the man said without hesitation, bowing his head.

Emma glanced briefly at Dominique. She had a look of pride that made her look like a master artist displaying her greatest work. Emma couldn't deny that she deserved to feel that way, but she had no way to read any further into the man's behavior; did he really believe himself to be her property, or was he hiding something?

Obviously, she couldn't demand any demeaning sexual shit out of him right now, but she could test her control over him in some way. "Lie down," she ordered sternly.

He didn't respond verbally, but he dropped to the floor immediately, eyes down, arms and legs all tense and ready for the next order. He looked like he was ready to start doing pushups. Emma admired his impressive frame for a moment, then said, "Stand up."

He lept to his feet with stunning speed and stood there, his eyes focused on the middle distance, waiting patiently for his next task. "Now, do star-jumps until I tell you not to."

He hesitated, confusion clearly written on his face despite his effort not to show it. Dominique huffed in amusement. "She means jumping jacks," she said.

He complied immediately, jumping up and down with vigor. Dom's flat was suddenly filled with the pounding of his weight on the floor and the heavy sound of his deep, measured breathing. With every jump, his chest muscles bounced up and down, and his dick flopped amusingly in every direction.

Emma watched, transfixed, at the spectacle of his body for a minute, before Dominique cleared her throat and snapped her out of her trance. "He's not a used car, love. You don't need to try him out. Just take him home and have fun."

"I was just trying to see..."

"I'm sure you'll put him through much harder activity than this nonsense," Dominique told her, tossing her head at the naked man. "But he'll obey you, I promise."

Emma looked at her, then down at her feet. "Right... I just..."

"Still..." Dominique was eyeing Aaron with a very transparent, very hungry look. "You definitely picked a good one, though," she said, biting her lip.

"Stop," ordered Emma. The man stopped immediately, straightening back into the position he had assumed when she entered the room. She looked at Dominique, whose eyes were fixed unsubtly on Aaron's considerable genitalia. "We're going home. You ready?"

"Yes, mistress," he replied, without hesitation.

Emma shrank him down as fast as she could. Four inches, that should be enough. No fancy gestures or magic words necessary; she just had to want him to be that size; and, in seconds, he was. He may have tried to hide it, but there was no disguising the sudden fear in his rapidly-diminishing facial expressions. Shrinking down, especially without warning, must be one hell of an experience. She'd have to try it from his perspective someday.

When he was small enough to fit in her hand, she plucked him off the ground, barely looking at him as she opened up her puse with her other hand and dropped him in. He didn't need an explanation, and he shouldn't expect one. He was hers now, and, fuck, that felt good.

She zipped her purse closed and set it down. "Thanks again, Dom," she said.

"It's my pleasure, love," Dominique replied, with the broad, luminous smile that Emma knew so well. "He's not a finished product yet, right? You have to bring him back every now and again, okay?"

That was new. "Why?" Emma asked.

"Right now, he trusts you because I told him to," answered Dominique. "If you break off his relationship with me too fast, it might hurt his relationship with you."

"Alright," Emma said with a shrug. "It makes sense. How often?"

"Once a week for a little while, and less often going forwards. I'll send you the dates and times."

Emma smiled. Dom was really just the best. "Thanks again, truly," she said, crossing her hands over her breast.

Dominique crossed her arms and turned away, making a show of being dismissive even as her face betrayed her own gratitude. "Oh, don't even mention it, love," she said. "You have fun, then."




Every minute, every mile, was pure fucking torture. Emma was so horny that she could feel her own heartbeat in her pussy, pounding so loud that she was sure everyone on the tube could hear it. The shrunken man, buried somewhere the purse she kept tucked tightly under her arm, seemed to have a physical presence that she could feel. He wasn't just a sex toy. He was a willing, living, breathing, loving sex slave. Her every whim obeyed at every time, at every size, with a willing eagerness. She had never before wanted something so badly.

Someone on the public transit recongized her, and demanded a selfie. In a libido-fueled trance, she obliged, and gripped the man's ass just as the picture was taken without even knowing what she was doing. His stunned look as the flash went off made for a priceless, and useless photo. He scuttered away, speechless, and she stepped off the tube at the next stop, not even acknowledging what she had done.

The next quarter-hour passed in a haze of imagined sexual fantasies. There were so many things she could do with this man; she couldn't wait to do them all, even though she knew that her body would eventually stop her from carrying on further. Even so, the knowledge that the endurance of her new sex toy was completely irrelevant was that much more exciting.

She burst into her apartment, pausing only briefly to verify that her boyfriend wasn't around, then fished desperately into her purse to procure the little man. Her fingers wrapped around his tiny body, and she tossed him out into the hallway just as she started to grow him to full size. The look of shock on his rapidly-growing face was clearly evident as she kicked off her shoes, stripped her shirt, and started to shimmy her pants off of her waist.

Naked but for her bra and panties, she slammed the deadbolt shut and leaned up against the door, breathing heavy and looking at the newly-resized, stark naked man. "I want you to fuck me," she ordered.

The sudden transition was violent and disorienting. The world shrank... or his body grew, as he soared through the air, and hit the ground with a dizzyingly hard impact. It took a moment for him to regain his bearings. A narrow, carpeted hallway, fluorescent lights shining down on him from above, off-white walls on either side and, at the far end, Emma Watson. Her shoes and clothes were in a bundle beside her, and she wore nothing but her underwear, her back against the door and breathing heavy.

"I want you to fuck me," she gasped.

Aaron took several long seconds to process what the fuck was happening. He had already kind of accepted the reality that he would have to do whatever Emma asked him to, but that long, chaotic period spent tumbling around in the bottom of her purse seemed to prevent him from adequately processing what she wanted of him.

"Come on," Emma insisted, taking slow steps forwards. Her arms folded behind her back, and, after a moment, her bra fell loose. Her slight breasts sagged just barely when released, revealing her small, dark-brown nipples. She spread her arms invitingly, baring every curve of her slender, almost-naked body.

Notwithstanding Aaron's disorientation, the sight sent a rush of blood between his legs. He had to obey, right? Well, she had just given him the easiest order in the world to follow.

His right hand snapped forward, he grabbed her by the neck and swung her to the side, slamming her into the wall. With his hand wrapped around her throat, there was, for a brief second, a look of fear in her eyes. In that moment, Aaron had the sudden thought that he could end it. This life as her slave, the undercover agent bullshit. All he had to do was squeeze and twist...

But the thought only lasted as long as Emma's look of shock. Her expression morphed into one of sultry desire, and Aaron suddenly realized that there was absolutely nothing he could do to her. Whatever he tried to do, she could stop with nothing more than a moment's thought, and his one lifeline, the escape that Dominique had promised him, would be gone forever.

He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to subdue his suddenly violent impulse. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against Emma's tits. She exhaled lustily through her nose, and he took in a lungful of Emma's warm, heady scent, rich with pheromones; his murderous desire all but evaporated. He still felt some resentment towards this woman, his captor, his torturer, but it seemed, in that moment, that he had a new way to assert himself to her.

Aaron slid his hand between Emma's legs, his fingers probing effortlessly underneath her panties and into the wet flesh beneath. She let out a quiet moan, pressing her body against his. Aaron responded by shoving his middle two fingers forcefully inside her. Her open-mouthed gasp was something to be savored, but he wasn't anywhere near done.

Her left leg wrapped around his back, and he let loose his grip on her throat to take the crook of her knee in his hand. His fingers probed her soft, wet insides, and she was totally into it. Her hips rocked, her eyes closed, and her mouth gaped. The face of pure ecstasy.

Only his middle two fingers were inside her, and they were only halfway in. How was it possible that her vagina, which he had totally under his control now, could have been such a source of unending torture for so long?

But this was no time to regret his limited reality. Holding the crotch of her panties to the side, he slowly pulled her hips down until his cock slid directly into her. In that moment, her face was one of unfiltered pleasure. Her eyes closed, her head tilted back, and her mouth gaped. Again, it occurred to him that he could put an end to this, he could kill her, but he realized, after a pause, that it would still be too difficult. The chance too remote, the consequences of failure too high. For now, Dominique was still his best way out of this.

He placed his left hand on the small of her back, and started to drive in and out of her, as hard as he could, as deep as he could, savoring the bounce of her little tits and her pleasured gasp that followed every thrust. Her left leg wrapped tighter around her, and he suddenly found himself lifting more and more of her weight, until he had to shift his hands under her ass. When he did, her other leg lifted off the ground and wrapped around his back as well. She was light, but, even pinned against the wall, he couldn't get that much leverage against her.

Through his unfortunate experience, he already knew where her bedroom was. With his dick buried all the way inside her, he pulled her off the wall and stepped slowly down the hall. Her arms wrapped tight around his back, her head rested on his shoulders, and her hips slid up and down, grinding her pussy across his groin. With every step, she bounced up and down a little, and she was clearly loving it.

When he finally made it into the room, he bent his legs a little, and thrusted Emma off of him onto the bed. She hit the mattress with a gasp, then a giggle. As Aaron loomed over her, she raised her legs straight up and started to slide her panties off, looking at him from behind her thighs with her head tilted. "You like doing that, don't you?"

"I like it rough," Aaron replied. He stepped up to her and pulled her panties off all the way, tossing them to the side and leaving her wearing nothing but her socks. Her legs spread willingly for him and wrapped around his back like the legs of a spider, pulling him towards her. He obliged, grabbing her hips and slowly sliding his cock inside her.

That look on her face, the desperate breath she took, the form of her body when he entered her, that feeling of warmth and power with her body totally submitted to his, it was almost worth the miserable existence he had endured as her sex toy.

Almost. He'd do anything to get out of it, anything that Dominique asked of him, but there was still no denying that this was a silver lining.

"Emma?"

That voice was new. Emma's face went from pleasure to shock, staring at something behind him. Aaron twisted around, still inside her, and saw another man standing in the doorway.

Redheaded, square-jawed, garbed in casual, all-black wear, fit but with a tiny beer gut just barely visible beneath his loose-fitting shirt. Aaron had never seen this man before in his life, but a sinking feeling in his chest told him that he had probably been pinned underneath his cock before, as a millimeter-tall unwilling passenger between two giants having sex.

Her boyfriend, no doubt. With keys to the apartment and who could enter without announcing himself. Who clearly appeared shocked and hurt at the sight of another man literally inside his girlfriend.

For a moment, all three of them were in shock. Nobody said anything to anyone. In that instant, Aaron could feel his erection softening, and realized suddenly how absolutely absurd it was to focus on that, of all things.

Wait. Was this his chance to escape?

"Fucking cunt," the stranger said. He had an Irish accent. Before Aaron could even react, the Irishman had turned on his heel and walked out of the room. A second later, Aaron heard the door slam, and the dull thuds of the stranger angrily descending the stairs outside the apartment.

Aaron stepped back from Emma's naked body. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't..."

"Hey!" Emma snapped. She pushed herself up off the bed with frightening speed to stand right in front of him. She was shorter than him, and totally naked but for a pair of pink socks, but she was still incredibly intimidating. "Did I tell you to stop?"

Aaron raised his hands defensively. "I just..."

"You don't get to make decisions around here," she said sternly, jabbing her finger at his chest. As she spoke, she slowly circled around him. Aaron only cast a glance at her tits once, and regretted it immediately. She drew closer; he could feel the heat of her body on his skin; until he was backed up against the bad. "Forget about that loser," she said. "I told you to fuck me."

Emma laid her palm on his chest, and shoved. He fell backwards onto the bed, and she followed, climbing onto the mattress on her knees. The whole time, she stared down at him, her expression deadly serious, keeping his eyes locked to hers. With all the unexpected drama, he was at half mast now, but she didn't care. She planted herself on his hips, right above his crotch, and, with one hand on his chest, pinning him against the bedsheets, she reached back with the other and started massaging his groin.

Her slender fingers, her tender touch sent a rush of blood below his waist despite the awkward situation. He stared up at her, unbelieving, and she stared down at him, commanding. She didn't even break eye contact; once he was fully erect again, she raised her hips, and guided herself down until he was all the way inside her.

In that moment, when he entered her, the expression on her face was quite unlike what it had been before. Her mouth gaped, and her eyes fluttered, but it wasn't a look of pleasure. There was pleasure there, for sure, but it was the pleasure of control. Of total domination. She looked down at the junction of their intimate union, the soft flesh of her crotch pressed forcefully against his pelvis, the subtle bump of his cock inside her, and gave him a wolfish grin.

The air reeked of sex, the heat of her seemed to press against his body, but he was totally unsure of what to do next. He reached up to grab her hips, but she swatted his hands away. "No!" she ordered. "Put your hands behind your back."

Aaron obliged immediately. Emma let her eyes drift shut as she started to gyrate her hips, sliding up and down across his body, his cock still buried inside her. Aaron stared up at her in shock. The woman had been caught cheating not sixty seconds ago, and didn't give a fuck, and now she was riding his dick like nothing had even happened. That was a level of ruthlessness that he couldn't even comprehend.

There was a brief moment when her boyfriend was in the room with them that Aaron realized that he could cry for help. Now he was so glad that he didn't make that mistake.

Emma had her way with him for the better part of thirty minutes. She had so intimidated him that, despite his erection, he really couldn't bring himself to orgasm. Mounted on top of him, she managed to cum three times, twice by riding him to her satisfaction, and once with his dick outside of her, just sliding the wet slit of her pussy up and down across it.

Finally, she fell off of him and onto her back. "Come on," she said breathlessly, spreading her legs, and spreading the lips of her pussy with her left hand. "Just finish it."

Orders are orders. He rolled on top of her, slid himself inside her, and started to drill her as fast and as hard as he could manage. With one hand, he kept his body up above the mattress, and, with the other, he gripped her narrow hips for leverage. With his dick driving in and out of her vagina, Emma's eyes rolled back and closed, her face the picture of ecstasy, her entire body shaking with his violent force.

Finally in control, it only took about two minutes for him to finish, and he did it while buried balls deep. He groaned, and she let out a breathy squeak, as his cock pulsed and he shot his load inside her. After a moment, or an eternity, of reality-bending pleasure, it was over, and Aaron rolled onto his back.

In that brief window of post-orgasm clarity, he knew exactly what was coming next, and he was ashamed that he had let himself fall for it again. But he had to do whatever she ordered, didn't he? That was how Dominique could save him from this hellish life?

Emma sighed a deep, satisfied sigh. "Go do the dishes," she said airily.

What? He leaned up, looking at her. She didn't even move, but her eyes turned to him, and her expression shifted, speaking without words. Now, it said. Without a word, he lept to his feet. His dick was still wet, slowly deflating under the cold touch of the outside air. He strode out of her bedroom and towards the kitchen, bare feet slapping against hardwood floors.

That was... unexpected. So now that she thought she could trust him, it wasn't just all sex, all the time?

He could get used to that.

Emma leaned up against the wall, naked except for the pair of panties she had slid on to catch the seepage, drinking her tea and watching her bare naked sex toy do the dishes. That ass of his was incredible. She couldn't stop watching it. She took a sip, staring in fascination as his muscles turned and shifted when he put a clean dish on the drying rack and grabbed a new one to scrub.

How did he get it looking that good? And how had he kept it that way? As far as she knew, there wasn't a gym in her vagina, so he certainly hadn't been doing any squats while trapped in there. And what about Dominique? Surely she hadn't just been his physical trainer for the last few weeks. Did being shrunken give him some sort of supernatural physical fitness? She couldn't say, but there was no way that the butt she was staring at was totally natural.

Emma huffed, and took another sip. A tight body with no effort? Sign me up, please.

She was fooling herself, she knew. This moment of satisfied superiority was an illusion. Her boyfriend... ex-boyfriend, now, in all likelihood... had walked in on her with another man inside her. It was going to be a huge mess to clean up; the tabloids had caught more than a few pictures of them together, so they knew what was going on, and they would key into a breakup even if they kept it subtle.

Of course, she didn't trust Seamus to keep it subtle for a moment. The cunt would flee to the the first TV show that gave him time to talk about how she had "betrayed" him. Just the thought of seeing that interview on the BBC made her grind her teeth, and it got even more complicated from there.

She could do some damage control. She could hear her manager's voice in her ear: lie, tell them that the relationship was trouble, that you had told them you were on a break. He was just jealous, he was just trying to take her down, "these allegations have no merit, and, honestly, I'm shocked..." Deflect, deny, accuse. But all of that would, ultimately, hinged entirely on her new human sex toy. The tight ass that was cleaning her dishes right now.

Emma slurped up more tea... God, that was one juicy booty... Unfortunately, she'd have to drag him in front of the cameras if she was going to tie this whose sordid affair into a narrative that favored her, and that was the absolute last thing she wanted to do.

But Dominique said, right? He was loyal, she just had to maintain that loyalty. He was broken in. There was some work to do, but she could trust this guy with her life. He was exactly what she had paid for, all she had dreamed of.

Emma chewed on her lip. Ahh, she had fucked up. There was no path out of this that would be better than if she had just left well enough alone. Why the hell had she even reached out to the Program in the first place?

Aaron slid the last plate into the drying rack, flicked beads of water off his fingertips into the sink, and turned around. Emma caught her eyes casting downwards... Sure, that ass was fine, but that wasn't the body part that she would write home about... What would it be like for her if she was the tiny one, and he was in charge? She'd get to know that swinging dick intimately, she was sure, but, beyond that...

She purged the thoughts, and tossed back the rest of her tea. "Here," she said, extending the empty cup to him, "You missed one."

"Sure."

Her expression turned hard, and he froze. After a long, quiet moment of indecision, he lifted his head to meet her eyes, with no small amount of fear in his face. She held that stare for a second, then said quietly, "Yes, mistress."

"Yes, mistress," he whispered back.

She pushed the dirty teacup into his hands and span on her heel, returning to her room to clean up and get dressed. She cast her eyes back for only a second... God, that ass... and slipped into her room.




Aaron had been shrunk to barely three inches tall the moment he finished doing the dishes, then snapped up off the ground and deposited on Emma's desk right beside her keyboard. He stood there, not totally sure what the hell Emma wanted from him, as she typed furiously. From where he stood, her fingers were snakes as tall as he was and as thick around as his torso, striking with terrifying precision and a deafening sound over and over again. Her hands and her arms were even worse. They shifted with incredible speed and terrifying randomness; it was a challenge to restrain himself from cringing every time the massive bulk of her body moved.

Emma wasn't even paying attention to him; that was the worst part. She wasn't trying to torture him, but, at his size, she could do it without meaning to. He was forced to stand next to the keyboard, to bear witness to the chaotic motion and deafening noise of her typing, and, even though she clearly had no intention of doing anything to him, he had a front-row seat to anything she did try to do.

BANG

BANG

BANG

The noise. The chaos. It was too much. It took a second for Aaron to realize that he was sitting on his ass, driven down by the sheer volume and violence of whatever the hell the giantess had done.

"...went well. We had broken off our relationship weeks ago, and I had hoped that..." Emma stopped speaking, and looked down at him. He only just barely realized that she had been talking, but she seemed displeased. "Are you listening?"

Aaron nodded, and the giantess looked back up at her screen and continued. "I had hoped that he would be discreet about..." She paused, and frowned. "No..."

She was silent for a moment, facing her computer screen, but her eyes were scanning, unfocused. She was clearly lost in thought. Aaron dared to raise his voice, "Excuse me, Mistress?"

The giantess' glazed-over eyes snapped to him instantly, and her expression grew dark. "Do you care about this?" she demanded. "The only reason I'm writing this copy is for you. I could just call my manager..." She put an imaginary phone to her head and spoke in a singsong voice, tilting her head mockingly as she spoke, "Hi, my boyfriend caught me cheating on him. Yeah, it's bad. Could you make this not my problem anymore? Thanks, you're the best!"

She made a show of hanging up her phantom phone, then stared at Aaron. "I've got press," she said, with a finality that implied that he was supposed to know what the hell that meant. "So I either get a solid story, or people start asking questions. Is that what you want?"

Aaron didn't want anything more. If he got lucky, he'd be free of Emma, and Dominique wouldn't be implicated in this grand conspiracy she seemed to be fighting. He couldn't say that, of course, so he just shook his head and stayed quiet. Emma sighed and slumped backwards in her chair, staring at the screen in front of her. After a few seconds of silence, she kicked herself away from the desk and stood up. "Floor," she commanded.

Aaron obliged wordlessly, stepping off the edge of the desk and into the void. He was growing as he fell, so rapidly that he didn't really fall so much as his legs just extended to meet the floor. "You try," she said. "Try to write something that makes him look like the bad guy, but doesn't look like I'm trying to make him look like the bad guy."

God, she was a cold-hearted bitch. It had barely been an hour since she had been caught cheating, and here she was already trying to ruin the man who had caught her. And she was enlisting Aaron to help. Uncertainly, he sat his naked ass down in the leather chair, the seat still warm, and looked at the short statement she had drafted up in Word; was it supposed to be a press release? An email? A speech? And what the hell did he know about writing that sort of stuff?

Whatever it was, it was pretty cold. Distant, indignant, and dishonest. According to this, they had been broken up for weeks. She was in a new relationship now, and she had been trying to keep her private affairs private, and she didn't know why he was suddenly going to the media now with 'these baseless accusations.' It ultimately made it a matter of her word against his, which was probably already a daunting mismatch given her celebrity status, but he would bet that she wasn't going to be satisfied with a 'he-said-she-said' situation. She would want a third party to back her up.

Aaron was the only choice for that third party. So whatever words he put into this letter would quickly come back around to bite him in the ass. Was there anything that he could say that would cue anyone, anywhere, into his situation? Any codeword or cipher he could key into the statement that would end this nightmare for him? Time was short, and he was coming up blank.

He had nothing. Emma had proven herself more clever at stuff like this at every turn. Any attempt at subverting her effort would only spoil his thin chance at freedom. Instead, he made a show of studying the document, then painstankingly went about changing every 'happy' to 'glad,' even opening up a thesaurus for good measure. He didn't have much to work with, so he worked as slowly as he could, until he heard Emma scoff from behind him.

"Right, so nobody taught you how to write," Emma said. "Right, you're done."

Abruptly, he started to shrink. He fell into himself as quickly as he had grown, maybe even faster. It only took a few seconds, but he found himself quickly seated awkwardly on the vast sea of leather of the giantess' computer chair. The smell of ass wafted up from the ground beneath him, overwhelming at his size. Aaron had literally been inside Emma's asshole, so it was far from the worst thing he had ever experienced, but it was still repulsive.

A shadow cast across him, and he looked up to see Emma's sweatpant-clad butt hanging overhead, ready to slam down on top of him. He let out a shout, but it was too late. The giantess crashed into her seat, and he just barely had the good fortune to survive the impact unharmed, standing intact in the gap between her legs.

The force of the giantess' weight striking the chair had knocked him clear off his feet, and he looked up at the massive, living skycraper that towered over him. The baggy, formless sweatshirt she wore obscured her face from this angle, and turned her entire body into a formless mound of loose-fitting cotton. A single strand of auburn hair clung to one of the cloth folds, its split ends dangling only feet above him. He reached up and grabbed it; even at this size, it was weightless and ephemeral, and it dislodged from its resting place and floated down on top of him.

The strand of hair was just big enough to kind of tickle. He brushed it off and climbed to his feet. Above him, the giantess was seated upright in her chair, motionless but for her hands; he could hear her typing and he could see her arms moving sublty every which way as she did so. The smell of a thousand farts imbibed into the seat beneath him was completely overwhelmed by the fishy stench of the massive woman's pussy, which washed over him despite the layers of clothes between him and the source. He was too small and too close.

Emma leaned back with a sigh and a crashing cacophony of creaking as the back of the chair absorbed her weight. Then, without warning, her left thigh came barreling towards him, knocking him back on his ass, but stopping just before it rolled over him, and her right thigh lifted up, crossing overhead to land on top of her left thigh. The motion was so rapid, so chaotic, so overwhelming in its size and scale that it took a moment for him to realize how inconsequential it had been to her.

She had crossed her legs. That's it. She probably didn't even realize she had done it.

But now he was trapped in an interesting prison. The seat of her computer chair was his floor and one of her thighs was his wall, while the other was his ceiling, hanging so low overhead that he couldn't do anything but crawl. His only escape was the loose curtain of the cloth of her sweatpants, and he wasn't sure if it was a good idea, but he decided to make his way there regardless. He was safe here, for now, but he would probably be safer somewhere else.

His only warning was the creaking of her chair and the squeaking of leather as Emma uncrossed her legs. The thigh that had been his ceiling came crashing down on top of him, driving him helplessly into the seat and squashing all hope of escape. Even through the layer of her sweatpants, the heat was suffocating, and the pressure was brutal.

He could barely breathe. It felt like a punishment, but, according to Dominique, they were supposed to have a new relationship now, one where arbitrary torture was not the norm. So the only other thing this could be was carelessness. Was this really what he could expect from now on from the giantess while she had him shrunken?

Emma's right leg jiggled impatiently, staring at the final draft of her statement. It frustrated her that she couldn't figure out a way to wrap this thing into a neat bow that completely absolved her without involving her little toy. Aaron, or whatever.

She wasn't worried about ruining her boyfriend's life if she needed to; she happily would if it would get her off the hook; but she simply didn't have the public goodwill to grind him into the dirt without consequences. Nobody in her position did, after all. She'd have the press on her side for about a week, and then they'd turn on her once Seamus started giving heartfelt interviews about their time together, and how the media assault had made things so difficult for him.

She thought it was bullshit, but it was a line that people like him could run with, so she had to work around it. Unfortunately, her little sex slave had not proven terribly useful in helping her craft her line, so he just had to watch. Or wait. He was still on her chair, she knew, but she wasn't particularly concerned with where.

Finally, she slumped back into her chair and let out a sigh. She only had two choices. Keep Aaron out of it entirely and enlist her publicist to do damage control, or trust that everything Dominique had told her about the shrunken man was true so she could come out with her reputation intact. Lies were involved either way, but lies told by two people had far more weight than lies told by one.

She couldn't do anything about it. In a few short minutes of angry typing, she adjusted her statement so that its legitimacy leaned entirely on the word of her new 'boyfriend,' hit Save, and stood up, looking down at the chair.

"Hey," she said at the two-inch figure still lying spread-eagled on the leather of the chair. Where had he been? Under her ass? Oh, that'd be funny. "You've got work to do, so study up."

She sized him all the way up, but slowly, so he could slide out of the chair and onto the floor, then adjust himself as he slowly grew to full height; he'd likely break something if he just exploded to six feet tall in an instant. As he gradually settled into his full size, Emma grabbed his bare shoulders and guided him into the chair, pointing him at the screen. "You see that? Memorize it. You'll be saying it to the press tomorrow, so you better learn it back and forth, right?"

For good measure, she pushed the chair as far up to the desk as she could, and leaned forwards, placing her head on his shoulder. "Right?" she muttered into his ear.

He nodded. "Yeah," he replied. His voice was pathetically weak.

She reached down with her left hand, across his body, and gently toyed with the flaccid, squishy package between his legs. "You're mine," she said. "Remember that, love."

She could already feel his dick hardening beneath her hand, so she kissed him on the cheek and stood up, drawing her hand away. She gave her fingertips a sniff as she turned on her heel and headed back to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Strange, she thought; she couldn't help but give it a second sniff; it kind of smelled like her. Was that because of what she had subjected him to, or was it her own imagination?

She sniffed her fingers again, but decided to forget about it. She gave one last look at Aaron, scanning the computer screen, before ducking into the kichen. He was a great dildo, but he gave great dick, too. Just thinking about it made her a little bit horny, and knowing that she could act on it without any consequences, or without having to give a single shit about what her sex slave thought about the matter, only made the prospect of a good fuck seem more attractive.

He was her property, in totality. If he didn't have the endurance to fuck her to her satisfaction, she could just shrink him down and use his entire body to finish the job. But what would be better? Dildo first, then dick? Dick first, then dildo? Dildo, dick, dildo? Hell, she could even take over his mind, and live the reality that she knew thousands of perverts on the internet longed for, fucking an unconscious Emma Watson. The opportunities provided by her absolute control over his body were intoxicating, and her fantasies bordered on the impossible.

But she still had a nagging worry about his loyalty. Dominique had promised her the moon, but she still didn't buy it. She still had that note he had written squirreled away in her jewelry box, and she had studied it over and over again, the sloppy handwriting hiding the truth of her shrunken sex toy; Aaron had a devious mind and a persistent will. What if Dominique had missed the mark?

Emma was starting to think that she'd be better off wiping her toy's memory and starting fresh, but it was too late for that now. She needed him to show face to the media. There was no time to blank his mind and retrain him. Like it or not, she had to deal with him as he was.

She set the teapot on the stove and turned it on, spinning around and heading back into her office. She stopped on the way back into the office, looking at him from behind the corner, spying on him as he stared intently at the monitor. Come on, little guy... Pull up a police hotline, Google 'Emma Watson.' Show me you still want to escape.

Nothing. He seemed dedicated to memorizing her three hundred word presser. She sighed, and shimmied off her sweatpants, then stripped off her hoodie, then cast both into the corner of the kitchen. She was wearing panties, but not a bra; she could lose the underwear as well, but guys went crazy for even the smallest bit of hidden skin. And that's what she wanted; for him to go crazy.

She turned the corner and walked back towards her desk from the kitchen. She put a little extra strut in her step, hoping that the bounce of her breasts would catch her slave's eye, but he was still focused intently on the monitor as she entered. He barely broke his gaze until she put a hand on his bare shoulder.

When she touched him, his eyes snapped up to meet hers, then glanced down, as if thinking better of it. The speed of his reaction, the bright look in his eyes, and his submissive self-correction told Emma all she needed to know. He was broken, but he was still smart, and dangerously so. She could trust him, but she should be careful, until she had earned his fullest devotion.

And what was the quickest way to a man's heart?

She pulled the chair away from the desk, just barely, swung her legs over his, and settled down on top of his lap, facing him directly. His crotch was barely inches from hers, and heat seemed to fill the space between them. And the smell... Oh, God, it was intoxicating in its intimacy. She had had a plan, a Machiavellian scheme to use sex appeal to cement his compliance, but now she couldn't help but think about how much fun it would be to carry that deception to its orgasmic conclusion.

"You're ready, right?" she purred, running the knuckles of her left hand along his jaw. Her right hand was gently tickling his balls, and the stimulation was clearly getting to him. She could feel his hips shifting under hers, and she could feel, as her fingers explored the shapes and textures of his genitals, that her gentle massaging was... getting to him, or so to speak.

"Say you're ready," she breathed into his ear.

"I'm ready," he gasped back.

His dick was rock hard, and Emma slid the crotch of her panties to the side, then pushed her hips down on top of it. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she gasped. God, the way it filled her... It was divine. Vaguely, she heard him utter his own involuntary noise of pleasure, but it wasn't his pleasure that she was concerned with.

Slowly, carefully, watching the junction between their legs as his dick quietly slid into her body, she settled down onto his lap, until she could rest her entire weight on his naked thighs. With her toy's cock totally buried inside her, she let out a desperate, pleasured gasp, and finally opened her eyes to look at him.

He seemed absolutely captivated, frozen in disbelief. Like he either didn't believe what was happening to him, or he didn't understand it, or he just didn't know how to respond. In response, she bit her lip, and put on the horniest look she could, looking him dead in the eyes. He met her gaze, and she slowly slid her hips up and down. The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of her was absolutely divine, but what she really wanted was for him to take control, to show her what he was capable of. He had done it before, his vigor had stunned her, and she wanted it again.

His hands were still hanging loose at his sides, like he didn't know what to do with them. She paused, her weight fully resting on his, his dick as far inside her as it would go, and slowly wove her fingers through his. She kept the look on him the whole time in that moment of slow intimacy, and he offered no resistance as she placed his hands on her hips, than placed her hands on top of his. Her hands on his hands on her hips, she arced her elbows back, stretching her shoulders and all but shoving her breasts into his face. Her eyes staring into his, not a single sound between the two of them, the wordless invitation was deafening.

Have your way with me.

In a single, subtle motion, Aaron finally showed that he had picked up on it. His left hand shifted down, just barely, and his thumb hooked around the crotch of her panties, pulling even further to the side. Emma stared at that place where their hips met, watching him do it, and was taken off guard by his right hand coming up and gripping her ass.

She let out a surprised little squeak, and Aaron smiled at the sudden reaction. Despite herself, she couldn't help but smile back. And, apparently, Aaron took that as a cue to absolutely let loose.

With strong arms holding up her weight, and nimble hips, he thrust his cock forcefully into her from the seat of the chair, over and over again. Emma collapsed into the rhythm and force of her life-sized toy, falling forwards against his chest as he continued, with a noisy, slapping sound, to drill his dick into her body over and over and  over and over again.

Then Aaron stood up straight, hoisting her into the air with a small grunt of effort. His penis was still deep in her vagina, and Emma wrapped her legs around his back instinctively. It felt, for a moment, like he was wearing her. It almost made her giggle. Then he deposited her on the desk top, and, with both his hands firmly on her hips, and her legs spread wide, he set to absolutely pummeling her.

Emma could do nothing but moan, leaning her weight against Aaron's sweaty body, her voice shaking with every rapid thrust. The desk banged repeatedly against the wall, the monitor shook so violently that it was at risk of falling over, but neither of them cared in that moment. Emma was consumed with pleasure that mounted higher and higher with every thrust, and her sex slave was focused on one thing, and one thing only.

It wasn't long before the driving pleasure drove Emma to orgasm. Her fingernails dug into Aaron's back, her legs squeezed tight, and a helpless gasp escaped her lips. She tried to stop him, to earn even a second of relief as his cock drove in and out of her, but there was nothing she could do while weakened by ecstasy.

Instead, she shifted her mind into his. It was almost effortless, but it was extremely jarring. Everything shifted all at once, sight and touch, the wordless sense of where her arms and legs were, even the seemingly-insignificant feeling of her tongue against her teeth. She didn't do it often for that very reason, but this was an especially shocking transition, as her mind entered Aaron's mid-thrust.

The ecstasy she felt in her own body was replaced instantly with a ferocious hunger, a hunger that could only be satisfied one way. Aaron was pumping away, seeking nothing but that final release; Emma could recognize her own backside in his vision, but he wasn't even looking at it. His sight was blurred, his entire body seemed to be on autopilot. All he wanted was release, and, through heat and sweat and motion, he would have it.

She could take control. She could own those arms and legs, she could make that driving dick her own. But she knew that doing so would be a pale imitation of someone who really wanted it.

So she was just along for the ride. Being present but not in control was mildly claustrophobic, but any discomfort was buried underneath the physical exertion and sexual desperation that she now shared, wholly, with her living sex toy. Caught in the whirlwind, she allowed herself to fully become him.

She had been here before, so she knew what an orgasm felt like in his body, but it still stunned her how quickly the pleasure began to build, and how orgasm seemed like such an inevitability even before it happened. It was only a few short seconds between when she could first start feeling it, and when her... his.... entire body tightened with mind-numbing, body-shaking pleasure. His cock flexed repeatedly, and she could feel the cum squirt out with every contraction. In that brief moment, it felt like she had transcended mortality and achieved the divine.

And then it all came crashing down. Aaron let out an involuntary moan, and she had allowed herself to get so wrapped up in his mind that it came as a surprise that it sounded like a man's voice, and offered a few more, forceful thrusts, until the overwhelming stimulation became too much, and he finally stopped.

Emma snapped back into her own mind before he could pull himself out of her, and pushed herself off the desk, driving him back down into the chair with a noisy creaking and a surprised grunt. She could still feel the warm afterglow of another orgasm that her own body had experienced while she was too busy  enjoying the experience from behind her sex toy's eyes. And, despite literally not doing anything, she found that she was tired and sweaty as well.

They both sat there, panting heavily for a few long, happy moments. His dick was still deep inside her, and it felt like the heat of it was filling her, even as it slowly began to soften. A mischevious thought occurred to her; those last few thrusts after his orgasm had been so overwhelmingly pleasurable that he couldn't handle it anymore, and, living in his mind for them, even she was glad that he had stopped. But, with his dick still hard, it would be trivial for her to lock out his motion and start riding him herself, force him to experience that sensation.

That would be for later. After apparently two orgasms, she couldn't really bear the thought of further stimulation either. Maybe she could start with a blowjob, and then try to bring herself to orgasm on top of him after he already came. Or maybe she could let him control her body, and experience that exact same thing from his perspective.

Again, she felt a small thrill thinking about the endless possibilities offered by a willing sex slave, and that was besides the total control that she had over his size as well. She still wasn't fully trusting of Dominique's promise that he was totally willing, so she didn't want to put him into situations where he could be totally in control, but she had to admit that even the prospect of changing places with him, letting him use his own shrunken body as a sex toy while she lived it, had a certain naughty appeal.

She wasn't sure how long she would want to keep enduring the kind of humiliation she had put him through in their first few days they had spent together, though. If she shrank him down, right now, and slid him into her vagina, how long would she tolerate trading places with him? Wrapped in flesh, breathing a hot, slimy mix of both male and female bodily fluids, totally unable to know what was happening or what was coming next?

Actually, right now, the very thought of it made her breathe a little quicker. Couldn't hurt to experiment, right? Just for a little while?

She caught his eye briefly, and thought better of it. The last time she had given him that kind of control, he had immediately devised a way to escape, one that it was only through sheer dumb luck that she had caught before anyone else did. Dominique's promises aside, she still wasn't ready for that sort of thing yet.

Finally, she lifted herself off of him. His dick, now only half-erect, slipped out of her with a soft sound, and with it came much of the fluid that had been dammed up inside her.  

"Get up," she ordered; her voice wasn't as hard as she wanted it to be, still reeling from the ecstasy of moments before. "You can go shower up now. I've got to finish up this presser."

A little hesitant, a little confused, Aaron stood up out of the chair, and worked his way around Emma. He seemed afraid to ask for clarification, or even to make eye contact, but she stared at him long enough that he eventually seemed to get it, and slinked away to the bathroom.

She watched him go, partly because it was fun to do so. Once that ass of his finally sauntered out of sight, Emma sat back down in the chair, right on top of the wet spot that had spilled out from between her legs. Already, the thin puddle of fluid had cooled down to the point that it felt vaguely uncomfortable when her vulva pressed down on top of it. She could clean it up, or she could simply order her sex toy to clean it up. Hell, she could shrink him down and force him to breathe it, pressed into the leather beneath her weight.

His body was hers. That's all that really mattered to her. From the other room, she heard the shower kick on, and, for some reason, the sound of it gave her a sense of satisfaction. She had ordered him to clean himself up, and he had no choice but to comply, and he had absolutely no idea what she had cooked up for him next.

Frankly, neither did she. But it was fun to dream.

It took a few days before Aaron finally realized that Emma didn't really know what it was that she wanted with him either. He was shifted unpredictably from full sized, to toy-sized, to microscopic, and it seemed to follow no pattern and was done without any of his input whatsoever. He knew that he only had about a week before he was going to be able to see Dominique again, but, with Emma exploring her role as his mistress, and him forced to go along like he actually wanted to be her slave, it felt like an eternity.

Put the kettle on.

Fuck me raw.

Do the laundry.

Sleep inside my asshole.

Give me a massage.

Pleasure me from inside my panties.

Clean the dishes.

Aaron was jerked back and forth between humiliating subservience to her sexual desires, absolute boredom, and literal slavery. Over the course of a single week, he was doing her chores, he was being used as a dildo, or he was left to linger for hours of nothing in whatever place she felt was safe storage when she was busy doing other things. Sometimes it was in the darkness of her underwear drawer, sometimes it was in the heat and stench of her actual underwear.

But she never really let him out of her reach. He suspected it after the promise that he would be giving her press release live and in person never materialized, but it became clear that; she didn't seem to trust him being anything more than a few seconds away from being literally under her thumb. Whatever Dominique had promised about his obedience, she didn't seem to fully believe it, and it meant that he wouldn't have been able to try an escape anytime soon.

If she ever let him into her mind, it was rare that she gave him control over her body. He couldn't tell if her mind was in her body with him, but he did notice that she never left him completely unsupervised, if only by his own body. If she had to leave him out of sight for a while, she did it at a size and in a place from which he would never really be able to escape. If anything, she seemed most comfortable leaving him in his own body, at some diminutive size, trapped somewhere on her body where he was completely subservient to her.

In her underwear was clearly her favorite. Top or bottom, bra or panties, she liked to leave him barely an inch tall and pinned against steaming-hot flesh by a tight cotton prison. He was already tired of it, but he had to endure multiple hours of it a day, sucking down the stink and often the fluid of her, completely at her mercy for when she decided to let him free, or to do something a little more... energetic with him.

The night before she had to finally drop him off with Dominique for the first time, she shrank him down to half an inch and left him on the carpet of her bedroom. She turned it into a game, promising that she would allow him to accompany her full size if she managed to go through her full morning routine without finding him. He tried his best to hide, and spent the first thirty minutes after her alarm went off cowering in a tiny nook between one of the feet of her bed and the carpet.

But she found him, of course, and while she was only half-dressed after getting out of the shower. She didn't bother changing his size or even explaining herself, she just popped him into her mouth and spent the next hour and a half sucking on him like a piece of hard candy, showing him every part of the inside of her mouth, an overactive tongue tossing him about like a rubber ducky in hurricane-churned waters.

He was almost at Dominique, though, that's what he told himself. The only person in his life now who treated him like a person, the closest thing he had to a friend anymore. And his only chance out of this hellish, sex-addled life. Maybe he'd have to endure another week, maybe two, maybe even a month or so, but she would save him eventually, right?

When his saliva-soaked prison finally opened, and Emma's forefinger and thumb pinched his tiny body off her tongue and pulled him into the open air, he was honestly expecting to see Dominique there. Instead, it was Suzy. Full-sized and wearing a loose-fitting bathrobe that made it very clear that there was absolutely nothing underneath it. When she saw his tiny body trapped between Emma's fingers, she broke into a wide, almost overjoyed smile. But, at his size, all Aaron could see was the snarl of a predator.

Ah, fuck.



If anyone asked her, if she ever had the chance to write a memoir about this shit, Dominique would say that she forced herself to live in Suzy's body as she exacted absolute humiliation on the shrunken man after Emma dropped him off. She had to know exactly what was happening, she would say, both to make sure it couldn't get out of hand and to remind herself of the moral weight that rested on her shoulders.

But it couldn't get out of hand, she knew, the shrinkee was functionally immortal. And, truth be told, some part of her deeply enjoyed it. She could never do to these people what Suzy seemed to relish doing, and, even if she could get away with doing it to Suzy, even if she could bring herself to do it, her own little shrunken woman would love the experience. So the sense of humiliation, of absolute domination wouldn't really be there.

These were thoughts she tried not to think. It made her concerned that she wasn't in this for the right reasons. But she couldn't deny that she felt the same thrill that Suzy did when she bid Emma farewell and immediately tossed the tiny man into the rubber cone that fit on the head of her Hitachi vibrator and started to masturbate with it.

Suzy wouldn't even experience anything unique having the little man there, and all he would experience would be a few minutes of painfully violent, noisy vibration. But it was about the domination. She wasn't pleasuring herself with his body, but with the knowledge that his body was her property.

But Suzy, with a seemingly limitless sex drive and a desperation to please her mistress, carried it just a bit too far as usual. One orgasm wasn't enough for her; she spent a few seconds gasping in the bed after the first, and then went for a second. Then, after her whole body heaved in the throes of another climax, her bathrobe slipping off her shoulders, she plucked the tiny man out of the rubber cap, and instead put him directly on her clitoris, underneath the vibrator, for yet a third orgasm.

Dominique didn't need to stick around inside Suzy's mind. She didn't have to watch everything that she did with Aaron's miniscule body, but she chose to. She told herself noble reasons why she did so, but the truth really was that, at some level, she liked it.

When it was all over, Dominique returned to her own mind and walked into the kitchen. Suzy, her face flushed with pleasure, tiny man trapped between her palm and the mattress, looked up at her with adoration. She had no idea what Dominique actually thought of the whole thing; her expression said plainly, "Did I do good, mistress?"

"Well done," Dominique said, bending down and giving the other woman a kiss on the forehead.

Suzy beamed. She looked down at her hand, raising her palm just enough that Dominique could see the poor little bastard trapped underneath it, then she looked up at Dominique as if she was revealing some carefully-guarded secret.

God, in all her years doing this, Dominique had never met anyone as enthusiastic about size play as Suzy. For practical reasons, Interpol couldn't ensure that she would be paired with someone who had her same mission when she started this job, but she had anticipated someone who had been shanghaied into the Program against their will. She had not been prepared for the bizarre, undeniably pleasurable experience of an eager, willing servant.

Suzy had thrown Dominique's entire world into question. She still held hard to her mission, but she was constantly plagued with doubt. How many of the people shrunken by the Program were as eager as Suzy? How many of them had volunteered for it? Or what if she was a spy, and her eagerness was being used to coax blackmail from Dominique? God knew that her seeming love for her job had brought Dominique to tolerate some... less than savory things. She had even done things that she never would have done if she knew that her shrunken partner wasn't loving every second of it; was all that part of a strategy as well?

Dominique remained committed to her job, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she had been... polluted somehow. That, even if her witness would be accepted in a court of law, it would be received somewhat less favorably by St. Peter.

That's what made Aaron so important to her. Maybe saving him would provide redemption for her as well. "Leave him to me," she told Suzy.

Suzy hopped to her feet; Dominique couldn't help but glance downwards when her breasts bounced up at the energetic motion. The other woman noticed her glance, and drew her bathrobe over her shoulders, looking up at Dominique with a playful sort of bashfulness. She drew close, fillng the space between them with the heat that radiated from her bare skin, and reached up on her tiptoes to give Dominique a peck on the lips.

Dominique smiled in return, almost sincerely, and Suzy wordlessly lifted her hand to present the shrunken man like a gift. The little guy was a pathetic sight, smaller than her palm, stark naked and curled up into a fetal ball. She knew that it was her job to help him, but he seemed so helpless, so weak...

With both her hands, she lifted Suzy's hand to her mouth, and slurped up the shrunken man like a piece of candy. Suzy's mouth opened in shock and excitement, and Dominique grabbed the back of her head with force, and brought their lips together.

Suzy exhaled in surprise, but folded into Dominique's grip without resistance. The other woman's tongue wormed into her mouth, buffeting against the microscopic man and introducing him into a world of true chaos.

At some level, Dominique knew that she had to keep track of Aaron. She couldn't let Suzy lose him or, God forbid, swallow him. At the same time, she didn't really care what happened to him. If she had to explain herself, she could just brush off whatever she did as necessary to maintain appearances, and he wouldn't know any better. Hell, if she seemed apologetic enough, he might even appreciate her for it.

But, today, Aaron's size was on a schedule. Dominique dislodged her tongue from Suzy's mouth, and she made sure that the tiny man was carried along with her. As their lips parted, Suzy looked up at her adoringly, seemingly waiting for what she would do next.

Dominique had a mouth full of shrunken man, so she couldn't just tell the other woman to go away. Instead, she put her hand on Suzy's shoulder and turned her around, then gave her a light slap on the ass.

Suzy hopped up at her touch, letting out a light gasp and drawing her bathrobe a little closer. She looked over her shoulder at Dominique with a mischevious expression, but she seemed to take the message. She put as much swagger in her step as she could, practically begging Dominique to come back to her, but she did finally make her way to the door. She turned back, blew a kiss at Dominique, and finally vanished.

Dominique locked the door behind Suzy and glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 18:59. Shit. She spat the little man out of her mouth and into her palm, and dumped him onto the rumpled bedsheets that Suzy had vacated barely a minute ago.

Only a few seconds later, Aaron exploded into the person that he actually was. Dominique wiped the spittle from her mouth, admiring the tight, muscular body that the shrinking process had left him with. But, God, he had been in her mouth not seconds before. There were some safeguards, but when you didn't control a toy's size...

"Welcome back," she said. She lifted her own bathrobe off the hook on the back of the door and held it out for him, inviting him to cover up if he wanted. He leaned up and glanced at Dominique with a skeptical expression that made her worry, for a second, that she had lost whatever trust he had placed in her, but he took the bathrobe and let his gaze fall to the floor.

As he draped the pink terrycloth around his shoulders, it was not lost on Dominique that he was bigger than her, stronger than her, and probably very frustrated with her. He would only have the size advantage for about an hour; keeping him full-sized any longer would arouse Emma's suspicion; but the door was locked, Suzy was certainly out of earshot, and there was a lot that he could do in fifteen minutes if he wanted.

Hopefully, all he wanted was a friendly chat. "How was the week?" Dominique asked.

He sighed. "Not what I expected," he muttered, still looking down at the floor.

Seated at the end of the bed, slumped over and naked beneath Dominique's ill-fitting bathrobe, he cut a pathetic figure, somehow even more so than when he had been helplessly small in the palm of her hand. "How so?" she asked.

"She just... uses me," he complained. "I don't know what she wants, she just does it."

"She doesn't know either," Dominique told him soothingly. "And she's not sure if she can trust you yet."

"I do everything she asks," Aaron protested.

"I know, it just takes time," replied Dominique. "And you'll get a feel for what she wants from you as well."

"But I don't want to be her fucking slave!" he yelled back. "I just want this to be over with."

Dominique sighed. "I know, I know. But it takes time."

"How long?" he demanded.

"Months, I think."

Aaron groaned and fell back onto the bed, and Dominique continued, "If you try to force it, it'll take longer. And, the more she trusts you, the more you get to live a normal life."

"As a slave."

"But not shrunken," Dominique told him. "She has more use for you at full size if she can trust your loyalty."

"She still uses me as a fucking sex toy."

"And she probably will in the future. But being used as a dildo for a few minutes is better than being two inches tall and stuck in her sock for eight hours because she can't trust you out in public," Dominique said sternly. "It's not just about getting free. It's about earning a less shitty life for yourself in the meantime."

Aaron sighed again, and rolled off the bed to his feet. Dominique held her ground as he stepped up to her; even slouching, he loomed over her, seemingly filling the room. Who was the shrunken one here, again? "What can do you?" he asked, spreading his arms helplessly.

"I can hurry it along," Dominique answered. "I tell her that you can be trusted, that you're eager to please, that you just have to be given a chance."

"Okay..."

"But you have to promise me you'll actually do that," Dominique continued. "That you won't bolt the first time she leaves you alone in her flat."

"Fine..."

"And I might be able to convince her to give you some autonomy when we meet next week," she finished. "Can you do that? Can you wait for a week?"

She could see Aaron grinding his teeth. The last week must have been miserable for him. Surely it hadn't been as bad as how Emma had treated him before bringing him to Dominique and Suzy, but there was something about hope that made suffering even worse. "Do I have a choice?" he asked finally.

"The choice is to wait a week, or to wait a month," Dominique answered. "Trust me. Go along with it."

In response, he just shrugged, and Paige turned her back on him to procure a measuring tape from her nightstand. Even though, in more ways than one, his fate was in her hands, she still felt keenly vulnerable alone in a room with him. She found herself racing to find the measuring tape to keep her back to him for as little time as possible.

"Arms out," she commanded, spreading the tape and turning around. Despite her fears, he had not taken those few moments with her eyes off him to strangle her from behind. He was still standing there, looking sorry for himself.

"What?"

"Arms out," she repeated. "I'm going to measure you for clothes."

"Why?"

Dominique looked up at him like she couldn't believe how dense he was. "Because, if you have something to wear full-size, she's more likely to make you full-size more often. Now, arms out."

Finally, he complied. As Dominique took his measurements, she explained, "I'll grab a set of clothes and give them as a gift to her next week. I'll tell her to find an occasion to let you wear them, and that you can be trusted out in public. You can make my job easier by making sure that she'll actually believe me when I tell her that."

"Okay..."

"Fortunately," she continued, "You have a body worth showing off with the right fit." She leaned down and reached into the folds of his bathrobe to measure his inseam. She was careful to let the back of her hand brush up against his junk when she did so, and she heard him take a sharp breath.

"Like what? A French Maid outfit?" he asked.

Dominique snorted. "Is that what you'd like? I don't think you can pull off fishnets."

"Couldn't hurt to try."

She reached up to take his neck measurement, and he looked back down at her with the closest thing to levity she had ever seen on his face. She looked back up at him, into his bright blue eyes, and was shocked, for a moment, by just how open he looked. How honest. God, he was practically a kid; what did he do to deserve getting wrapped up in this?

She cleared her throat and pulled the tape away from his neck. The moment of intimacy was over, and she felt dirtier for it. Tomorrow morning, she'd be giving this man back to Emma, who believed that he was not only her property, but that he wanted to be. She certainly wasn't the cruelest mistress, but it wasn't an enviable position for anyone with even the gentlest owner.

Aaron, for his part, seemed to notice that he had crossed some line, and quickly cast his gaze downwards. It just made Dominique feel worse. If she actually gave a shit about him, about the person that he was, she'd do something to save him from this life of slavery as soon as she could. But, in all truth, what could she really do?

"Alright," she said, putting on a businesslike air, "You've got until the top of the hour at this size." She stuffed the measuring tape into her pocket and made her way to the bedroom door. "Kick back, relax, whatever. Emma will be back to pick you up in the morning. Do you need anything?"

Aaron seemed a bit overwhelmed by the sudden shift in her attitude. "Uh..." he began.

"Great. Just let me know," Dominique said. WIth that, she ducked out of the room, and slammed the door shut behid her.

Ah, fuck. What was she doing with her life?

Aaron had to keep his hands clenched in fists to keep them from shaking. No matter how deep he inhaled, it felt like he could never get the air all the way to the bottom of his lungs. He was about to have a panic attack, but he also had to seem like everything was normal, so every breath was a concentrated effort to suck in as much air as he could as quietly as he could manage.

Emma didn't seem to notice, or, if she did, she didn't seem to care, quietly studying the back of a book she had pulled seemingly at random from the shelves of the political science section. He loomed over her, he knew, his eyes fixed on the back of her neck. Her slender, fragile neck, bare underneath hair pulled up into a frizzy bun. If he was quick enough... Could he do it?

She made a quiet noise of disapproval and put the book back on the shelf, tracing her fingers across the spines as she looked for a new one. The temptation to try to take her life to gain his freedom disappeared in a wave of guilt and futility, and he took a quiet step back so she would be less likely to notice his labored breathing.

Emma had dragged him out shopping to serve as combination valet and pack mule. In any other circumstance, with any other woman, it would have just been a boring trip, the kind of thing he would just endure for the sake of their relationship. He might even try to break up the tedium by trying to be mildly annoying. But right now, alone with her in a bookstore, gripping a bag full of new clothes in his left hand white-knuckle tight, it was something very different, something sinister and terrifying.

It was the first time he was outside with her, in public, full-sized. The first time he was able to make a break for it, or to call for help, but trusted not to. It was the kind of thing that Dominique promised she wanted out of him, but that he couldn't believe she would ever do.

So he had been in the throes of a slow-burning panic attack the entire time. Maybe he could swerve the car into incoming traffic? Maybe he could go for the neck? Could he knock her out in a single swing?  Maybe he could just start screaming and force her to shut him up? Anything to get out of this.

But something held him back. He knew she had extraordinary power over him, and for everything he thought of, he feared that she had thought of it as well, and was ready to put a stop to it before it would do anything. And, one she knew that he wasn't really as loyal as she assumed he was...

It was the punishment that would follow that he really feared.

Emma selected a book on the history of feminism in Ireland and started leafing through the pages. Just then, Aaron heard a voice, high and excited, from behind him. "Are you Emma Watson?"

Both he and Emma turned to look at the newcomer in unison, Aaron struggling to keep his face level, and Emma transitioning effortlessly into 'celebrity-meeting-fan' mode. The voice beloned to a tall, raven-haired woman with angular features and Crossfit limbs, who was in the middle of producing a phone from her handbag. Emma smiled at the thirty-something stranger like she had known her all her life. "Hey there!" she said.

"Oh my God, I loved you in Harry Potter," the woman said, "Do you mind if I get a selfie?"

"No problem," Emma replied, all cheer and smiles. "Aaron, do you mind?"

The woman took the cue and handed Aaron the phone. Help me, she's using me as a shrunken sex slave, he thought. He felt there was an opportunity here, but he was helpless to imagine how he could use it.

The two posed together, bending forwards and heads together, with mechanical camera smiles, Aaron took two pictures, and handed the woman back her phone wordlessly as Emma and her new best friend separated to study the photo's quality.

Apparently satisfied, the woman put her phone back in her bag and looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, looking back and forth between Emma and Aaron, "My name's Kathy."

"So great to meet you, Kathy," Emma gushed, as if she was the fan and this stranger was the movie star.

"Aaron," Aaron croaked. She can control my size. I've been stuck with her for months. Please, call the police.

Emma's face hardened almost imperceptibly when he spoke. Kathy didn't notice, but Aaron did, and his heart sank as he realized that telling another human being his name had bought him a world of hurt.

A few more niceties, another selfie, to his surprise, and Kathy was quickly on her way. Aaron wasn't really present for all of it, he was running on autopilot because his mind was spinning with fear and regret for having inadvertantly crossed Emma. Once Kathy left, and they were in the relative privacy of the bookshelves, Aaron dreaded what would come next, but Emma just kept perusing the shelves for new books. Every move of her arm that he thought would send him plunging down into a new microscopic size, lost in a sea of clothes that used to fit him, was just her reaching for another book.

God, he felt like a battered housewife, cringing at every move. He hated it. He hated the fact that he knew it, he hated the fact that was afraid to do anything about it. But he still did nothing about it. Because, no matter how much he hated it, he was more afraid of what would happen if he tried to do something about it.

But, to his relief, nothing really happened. Emma walked out of the store with two books on feminism and a cookbook, and Aaron was feeling just spiteful enough to think that that was ironic. He was tasked with carrying them as well, of course. They piled into her car, and he set to driving them back, down narrow London streets, to her spacious flat. He worried all the while that she would eventually express her displeasure, scared that every move that she made was her finally deciding what she was going to do with him, and taking action.

He wouldn't have any warning about shrinking, of course. It would just happen. And then she would just do whatever the hell she wanted with him. Could he already smell the overbearing, humid stench that wafted out from between her legs, or was he just imagining things?

But nothing happened. Nothing happened for the whole drive home, nothing happened after he parked the car and pulled the keys. Nothing happened when he closed the door behind them on the apartment. And nothing happened when Emma retreated to her room with her books, leaving him to take care of putting away all the rest of the bullshit that she had bought.

He would shove it all down the garbage disposal, if she had one. But something about his odd new task was strangely encouraging. If even his misdeeds didn't mean that he would be stuck with his face up against her asshole for a week, then maybe he could stomach this new reality. Maybe he could endure whatever she wanted to do with him when she got horny, so long as it meant that he could spend the rest of his time full-sized and more or less autonomous.

He was still a slave, though. He couldn't forget that, and he wouldn't. But Dominique was going to solve that problem for him... eventually. In the meantime, maybe... maybe he could actually live like this?

As he was busy packing Emma's new clothes away into a closet, his limbs suddenly froze up. He stood there for a moment, panicking at the fact that none of his limbs were answering to his commands, before his body started moving without his consent, moving with purpose but with awkward form away from Emma's closet and towards the closed door of her bedroom.

He realized relatively quickly that Emma had decided that she was horny, but was too lazy to even bother commanding him to come to her. She could just hop directly into his body, take control, and bring her to him without him being able to do a damn thing about it. The feeling of his limbs, his entire body, acting completely without his control was frightening and claustrophobic, but he couldn't fail to realize that she was also sending a message about what she could do.

It was a message about the futility of any attempt to escape.

As soon as he had that realization, his reality span in a horrifyingly disconcerting way, and he found himself on a bed, sprawled out on soft sheets, with cool air on his bare skin below his waist. No... Not his waist. Her waist. Emma had put him in her body, and, when he propped himself up on his elbows to take stock of what just happened, he realized that she had left him in control of it, while she was living in his body. He had done this before, but it was still bizarre; Emma was him, and Aaron was her.

But before she had the chance to think too long about what she could do while inside her new body, the door swung open, and she was left facing her original body, naked but for a pair of socks, filling the doorway.

The feeling of vulnerability she suddenly felt, the weird pang of fear, was nothing she had ever really experienced before. She felt a keen sense of how thin and naked this new body was, and how strong Emma's new body was while looming over it, with a cocked smile of intent on his face. She had never felt that discomfort before, in all this time with Emma, or even in the brief times she had spent inside this body.

That person looming overhead... He was going to have his way with this weaker body that she was living in now, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She knew, in some way, that the fear he felt in the pit of his stomach at that realization was stupid. She was literally his sex slave; in an instant, Emma could swap back into her own body, shrink his body down, use him as a dildo, and throw him in the trash. But there was something about the sight of it...

She took a shaky breath and tried to smother that instinct. Trying her best to keep eye contact with Emma, she lifted her knees and spread her legs, inviting the cold air to wash between the sensitive, naked flesh. Every nerve in her new body screamed to close her legs, to tighten up, or even to try to run away, but she knew, even as his chest shook with anticipation, that it was totally futile. Any act of protest, any act of resistance, and Emma would take control in an instant, and exact brutal and humiliating revenge.

His dick swung at half-mast between his legs as he stepped slowly up to the bed; Emma was wearing his new body with the absolute confidence of the partner who knew they were dominant. Meanwhile, she was just trying desperately not to shake visibly; she must have looked like a pathetic creature by comparison.

His body leaned down and wrapped a hand around each of her thighs. At the sudden, rough touch, she draw a sharp breath, shaky and uncertain with fear and anticipation. Her gaze was locked to Emma's as he lowered his head between her legs, and she felt a sudden, body-wide tingle when a tongue gently slid between the lips of her pussy.

The gasp that escaped her mouth at that sudden sensation was one more of pleasure than fear. God, even that little hint of head felt good. She was holding onto a fistful of bedsheets in both hands with all her strength, desperately trying not to move and to just let Emma do whatever it is he wanted to do down there.

But what she wanted to do was to make it very hard to keep still. He could feel every movement of the tongue between her legs with electric clarity, as it probed the sensitive flesh, parting her labia and massaging the delicate, intimate parts beneath. But somewhere down there, his tongue applied insistent pleasure to something that felt very, very good, and he heard herself let out involuntary moan, sounding almost as if it had come from somewhere else.

Was that the clitoris? Whatever it was, Emma sucked briefly at it, until Aaron couldn't take the intense pleasure anymore, and her hand moved, seemingly on its own, up to his head, trying to push it away.

In response, Emma grabbed her her wrist and forced it down to the bed, and she lifted her hips voluntarily when he guided her hand underneath her ass. She sat down on it, and the licking and sucking got even more intense. It was all she could do not to squirm away, but the message was clear; don't move, just sit back and enjoy it... Or else.

Fuck, though it was hard. Her legs lifted off the bed, hugging her thighs to her chest, presenting him with everything, and he took advantage. With his tongue insistently focused on her clitoris, he took his hand off her thighs and slowly, deliberately, slid his middle two fingers into her vagina. Aaron couldn't see what was happening between her legs, and she didn't expect it to happen, and she let out a surprised, squeaky gasp at the sudden penetration.

Of course Emma knew exactly what buttons to push, and he pushed them good and hard. Aaron fell wholly into his touch, losing all trepidation with the insistent stimulation, and also losing the ability to hold still amidst pleasure that tried to snatch away control of her limbs. Feeling pressed for breath, she stopped hugging her thighs to her chest, and they found their way around Emma's head, her knees hooked over his shoulders, seeking to draw him in like a spider pulling in its prey. In a gentle rebuke, Emma's free hand, the one that wasn't doing absolutely incredible things inside her, pushed back against the back of her left thigh, so Aaron let it hang it in the air.

The first orgasm came after what felt like a lifetime of buildup, and her mind went totally blank. Her body tightened up until she could barely even draw breath. Whatever her limbs were doing was totally out of her control. And, still, there was an unyielding, electric pleasure that felt like it was striking at the the depths of her soul. She loved it, but she had to escape it, she just had to breathe...

And then it all came crashing down. She drew a ragged breath, half a moan, and looked down to see that her thighs were spread wide, one of Emma's hands planted firmly on the back of each one, leaving her pussy totally exposed. But his mouth was finally, blissfully removed. Instead, Emma was standing upright, smiling a grin smeared with glistening fluids, and noticeably erect.

Just a minute, please, Aaron begged silently, too breathless to speak. But in spite of her desperation, or maybe because of it, Emma decided that it was time for more. In a quick, almost predatory motion, the hands snapped down to her hips and dragged her forwards across the bedsheets, until her ass slammed up against his pelvis with a wet thwack, leaving her legs propped up like fenceposts against the front of his chest.

Aaron watched with fascination as Emma took full advantage of her vulnerability. Both their gazes were locked at that junction between their legs, and Emma slapped his cock against the bright pink, glistening-wet peach of Aaron's vulva. It was a barely pleasurable sensation, even while still coming down from that absolutely incredible orgasm, but the moan that escaped Aaron's mouth, totally involuntary, was one of raw hunger.

How on earth could Emma be that good? He hadn't had the body of a man for more than, what, five minutes? But, as if he had been doing it all his life, he only needed his thumb to guide his cock down as he tilted his hips back, and slid himself all the way inside her.

Aaron gasped, and her head fell back like a doll with its strings cut. The feeling of it going in... It was more than pleasure, it was being made whole. Her body moved without reason, seemingly without input, tilting her legs and hips to allow him to go even deeper, and he took the invitation by firming his grip on her hips, pulling almost all the way out, and slamming himself all the way back in. Emma quickly found a rhythm of pulling and pushing, of in and out, of Aaron's bare flesh jiggling as it bounced up and down on the mattress, and skin slapped noisily against skin, over and over and over again.

Aaron's moan shook with the thrusting in a way that sounded amusing even to her own ears. When the moan ended and she inhaled, she couldn't help but giggle at it, and that giggle was strangled into a breathy squeak by a sudden wave of pleasure that made her entire body convulse.

Then Emma groaned, and pushed in deep with one last thrust when he came. Aaron felt the heat of his cum shoot into her with stunning clarity, so little, and yet it felt like it filled her entire body. Buried as deep into her as he could get, their hips flat against each other, she felt his cock flex once, twice, three times, and then, breathing heavy, he finally pulled out.

Aaron moaned like he was taking a part of her soul with him as he did so. Breathing heavy, skin slick with sweat, Emma staggered a few steps to the side, and crashed down on his back on the bed, right beside Aaron. And then they both just lay there, gasping desperately for breath, as the pleasure receded and the world slowly came back into focus around them.

No words, barely any motion. Just breathing. Sweat drying in the cool air, their naked skin so close together that Aaron could feel the heat of it, a warm and human smell so strong that it had body all its own filling the room.

Then, without warning, everything changed. The change wasn't too particularly large, but it was huge because everything changed. Aaron's perspective shifted just slightly to the left, but her body became heavier, larger, the body radiating heat beside her was suddenly on her opposite side, the pleasant soreness between her legs was replaced with a deeper, broader exhaustion, even her teeth felt different against her tongue...

No, not her... Aaron was him again. It seemed like she... he... had acclimated to the new, temporary body almost too quickly.

A brief, rogue thought crossed his mind; did that mean he was getting used to being Emma's living sex toy?

Beside him, Emma stretched like a kitten, letting out a soft moan through her nose. Aaron expected to be shrunk down and cast aside, or put inside, but, to his shock, Emma snuggled up beside him, and threw a single arm carelessly over his chest. "Hmmm," she breathed. "Did I come twice?"

Aaron's breath caught in his throat. He seemed to have forgotten how to speak. Maybe not a sex toy after at all. Maybe this was a real relationship...? Was that even any better? "Uh, yeah..." he croaked. He hardly even realized that he had lied.

Emma gave a deep, satisfied sigh, and, as he lay there, her breath started to fall into a soft, steady pace, as if she was about to fall asleep. And then he started to shrink. It was slow, and the shock of how open and intimate she was being at that moment prevented him from recognizing it until he found that his head was at a level with her clavicle.

Suddenly, whatever sense of comfort had evaporated, replaced with raw panic. Instinctively, he tried to squirm away, but Emma's other arm wormed underneath him, her elbows folded in, and he found himself squeezed up against her naked chest in a bone-crunching hug. He kept shrinking, and the arms that grabbed him grew larger and larger, until he finally stopped.

One hand unwrapped from his body, and he didn't see where it went until it brought the blankets down like a curtain on both of them. Aaron was barely two feet tall now, his head no higher than Emma's sternum, so he was washed in darkness as she shouldered the blanket up to her neck and wrapped her arm back around him.

She let out a satisfied sigh, and he could feel it at his back. The firm embrace of her arms pinning him against her soft, delicate chest. The gentle rhythm of her breathing, in and out, in and out. The steady thump-thump of her gradually slowing heartbeat. The oppressive heat and heady stench that seemed to come from everywhere all at once, and quickly growing now that it was all trapped under the blanket with him.

Like so many times before, his claustrophobic panic quickly gave way to a more manageable boredom once he realized that there wasn't any chance of escape, and that there wasn't really any harm in where he was either. If anything, it would be worse for him if he tried to escape. So all he could do was lie here and wait, cuddled up in her arms, for her to wake up and let him free.

It was better than the worst thing, he supposed. But it was also surprising in how it combined her casual disdain for him as a shrunken person, and unprecedented tender intimacy. He wasn't a sex toy, he was, what? A teddy bear? After she had let him accompany her in the real world, at full size. After she had let him enjoy what sex felt like for her body, he wasn't sure anymore what he was to her. Was this relationship starting to become something more normal, like Dominique had promised?

Or was he starting to see it as normal?

Dom had done it.

Emma was still deeply suspicious of her shrunken toy's motives. She had seen him fight back, recoil from her touch, even try explicitly to escape. She knew what he wanted and what he was capable of, but she had been willing to trust Dominique's process, to give the man a chance at being the person she wanted him to be. And, put frankly, she had been surprised.

She still retained the right to wipe his memory entirely. Knowing what she knew now, she could make a pliant slave even without an expert's assistance. But, God, it helped to have an expert doing the work.

Aaron... She had to get used to thinking of him by his name instead of simply as her toy or her slave... He had been her willing escort out in public, in front of strangers! Though not of her own volition, he had been given the chance to betray her, and had turned it down. And then, behind closed doors, he had willingly given her the most unbelievable sexual experience of her life.

It didn't matter that it had happened in the confusing world of him being in her body, and her controlling his. She had given him total control, and he had done exactly what she would have wanted with it, and more.

So, put simply, Dominique was a miracle worker.

Emma had spent countless hours fantasizing about this exact thing that Dominique had given her. About a man who could be at her side at parties, who could live in her underwear, and who could fuck her raw. Who could be her date, her dildo, or her jewelry, all as she demanded, and be willing to fill every single role at every single size. It was every woman's dream, but now it was her reality.

She still felt the need to be careful. To let Aaron out in public in steps, acclimate him to the spotlight, and acclimate herself to the idea that her sex toy could live out in the real world literally minutes after being buried head to toe inside her vagina. But Dominique was trustworthy. She had proven the quality of her work, if only by the slavish devotion that her own slave, Suzy, had to her giantess.

Emma contemplated all this, her prospective future with the tiny man that was now her property, with her arms wrapped around him like a living teddy bear. Against her strength, there was nothing he could do, so he was largely still. She may have even fallen asleep with him in her arms, but it was hard to tell. Some time after thinking about him, their future together, and what Dom had done for them, she woke up with a start, taking in a sharp breath of air.

The tiny man was still squeezed up against her chest, his head between her breasts and his feet somewhere just south of her belly button. She let out a soft, satisfied noise, and squeezed him a little tighter to her ribcage. Emma thought about sizing him back up, but had a bit of a naughty whim, and decided instead to roll over on top of the tiny man. Arms still tight around his teddy bear-sized body, she pinned him to the mattress under her weight.

His entire body was suffocated under hers, his every limb trapped under her weight. She knew it, and she felt quite pleased about it. Just to make sure it was what she thought it was, she closed her eyes and shifted her mind into his.

Immediately, she was transported into a world of suffocating pressure, smothering heat. Skin surrounded her on all sides, enveloping her in near-perfect darkness, and keeping her from even budging her arms and legs. The transition was so jarring, the experience so claustrophobic, that she immediately shifted back to her own mind.

She was left disoriented, and feeling a little bit guilty, so she rolled off of Aaron, unwrapped her arms, and kicked the blankets that covered them both down to her knees, leaving him to rest unmolested on her bare chest. She watched him lie there for a moment; his eyes were closed, apparently pretending to still be sleeping; as his smaller body rose and fell with her breaths. He was adorable, and so full of promise as her new toy, servant, boyfriend, or whatever she wanted to call him. She smiled, and ran the tip of her finger down his naked back, prompting a shiver from his tiny body.

Maybe coworker, someday? Who knew? But, no matter what, he was hers for life.

She transferred herself back into his mind, and, this time, the only thing that felt different was that the small patch of heat that was his body against hers grew into a massive blanket of heat, from her body surrounding his.

Emma was starting to get used to being in Aaron's body, to being a him. The weight of his body felt so different; the higher center of gravity felt unstable, and the reduced flexibility and the increased sensitivity to physical discomfort left Emma feeling somehow more vulnerable. But the strength in his limbs, along with the mental knowledge that men could just get away with so much more, combined to create a confused sense of whether being in his body or hers was any better. All Emma knew was that it was different.

Someday, she would take his body out into public, live her life as him. She might get some insight into how men were treated differently by society than woman, but she suspected that it was more likely that she would just learn how much non-celebrities were ignored out in public. And that could be convenient, too. Sometimes, she just wanted to get some fresh veggies without a stranger asking to take a selfie.

But now... Now it was just an intimate moment, of being able to explore her own body as a tiny man. She slowly shrank his body down, feeling the heat emanating off her own body drawing closer and hotter, until it was almost unbearable. Aaron's body was barely an inch tall at this point, and Emma's own body, effectively asleep without her there to pilot it, was an endless field of smooth, bare naked flesh.

It was a sight that Emma had never really seen before, and it was absolutely fascinating. She thought she knew her own body, but to see it like he saw it was something completely new. The perspective was so alien that the imperfections that she normally obsessed over didn't seem to exist. It felt as if she wasn't even on her own body, but that of a total stranger. A thin, pale-skinned, slight-breasted stranger, with flesh underfoot that trembled with every heartbeat, that rose and fell with every breath.

She was somewhere just north of the navel of the sleeping goddess, so there were only two ways to go. Up, to admire her breasts as monuments, or down, to become more familiar with the intimacy that Aaron had already spent days enjoying.

The choice was obvious. Emma turned around without a second thought and started making her way carefully down towards the giantess' hips. At this size, her weight was small enough that her feet barely left an impression in the giantess' skin, so it was like walking on sand on the beach that had been packed firm by the waves. The only difference was the way that it sprang back when her weight came off, and the burning heat that met her feet when they landed. It was so, so, so hot. If she hadn't been in this body literally seconds ago, she would have thought that it was feverish.

The tan line on the sleeping titan's skin was barely visible at this size, but the line where the pubic hairs started to grow was much more obvious. Despite the fact that Emma had literally shaved yesterday, there was no hiding the growing stubble at this size. But it was no impediment to her journey to the cliff's edge, to the mound of flesh, still swollen red from an incredible fuck, that marked the giantess' most sensitive organ.

As she reached the precipice, she fell to her knees and approached at a careful crawl. She knew that nothing would happen if she fell, but she still had an 2instinctive fear of falling. The giantess left leg was straight, but her right was cocked outwards, providing just enough of an opening to expose her pussy to the open air, and to Emma's curiosity.

The flesh grew even hotter as Emma approached, leaving her sweating in the swampiness of it. And, finally, she reached the edge. Freshly-shaved stubble was rough like gravel under her hands, and she stared down at a sheer cliff of wrinkly, pink flesh. It was alien in its shape, its colors, and its thick coating of slimy, shiny fluid. At this size, at this scale, it barely even looked like a piece of human anatomy, even though Emma knew it was her own body.

Thick, creamy white fluid oozed out of the bottom of that massive feature, with a hair-thin strand connecting it to a glob that had fallen loose just an inch below, to the smooth, pale skin of the giantess' ass.

Emma wanted to dive right in. She wanted to experience, firsthand, what it meant to be shrunken in that world of flesh and bodily fluids. And she could. At this size, she could clamber down the massive walls of flesh, force herself through the sticky fluids and fight her way into the depths of her own massive body. Hell, she had total control over her own size in this body; she could size herself up or down, whatever she needed to make it easier to shove herself in there.

Or, if she was daring, she could let Aaron take control of her own body. And he could shove her in there.

That cloudy white trickle of cum that was oozing out of the giantess' vagina... It was hot as hell, and it presaged what she could experience if she was reduced to the toy that was appropriate for her size in this borrowed body. Without a thought, she found her hand wrapped around the cock of her borrowed body, stroking slowly and imagining what it would be like to be inside there. The heat, the flesh, the salty suffocation of drowning in cum...

There was no way that Aaron, or at least this body of his that she had borrowed, was turned on by the thought of being drowned in his own ejaculate, but Emma thought it was the hottest thing on the planet. Her arousal... This rock-hard dick in her hand... She gave the borrowed cock a few strokes, but she felt a desperate thirst...

She turned around, and sized herself up enough that she was sure that her voice in this tiny body could be heard, almost two feet tall. She was almost straddling the hips of her own body by the time she was big enough, and, with her borrowed cock still hard and resting on the smooth flesh below her... Well, she had a sudden thought of going for another round in Aaron's body before she tried this.

It had barely been thirty minutes since she had just done that, and Aaron's body was already capable of being turned on. Honestly, it was impressive, and a promising sign for his future as her personal sex slave.

But she passed it up. She could always do that again later; she wanted to be inside that cum-filled pussy right fucking now. She let Aaron slip into her own body, and then gave him control of it. The only sign that he had taken over, at first, was the way the giantess' eyes snapped open, and then she took a deep, almost desperate breath, so violent that it nearly bucked Emma right off her perch.

"Hey!" she ordered. The bassy, male voice that came out of her mouth was a shock, and gave her a moment's pause. Fortunately, Aaron seemed as out of sorts from his sudden transition into her body, and took a while to fix his attention on her. By the time his eyes met hers... or hers met his... She had already recovered and taken control.

Fuck, these pronouns... When she was in this body, erect dick in hand, staring up at the breasts and pussy of a giantess looming overhead, Emma had no idea whether s/he should think of herself as her or he... She reveled in the strength of the male, she inherited a lot of the chemical attractions inherent to being a man while she was in Aaron's body, and she even felt a bit more confident while baring his nude body to the world, but so much of her brain still said that she was a woman.    

Fuck it. She was she, he was he. Emma was a she, even if she was using her throbbing dick to fuck some woman senseless, it was still her doing it. And, for now, Aaron was a 'he,' even if his wet pussy was getting creampied.

Oh, shit. Emma could totally play the bar scene in Aaron's body. Spend the night at a stranger's house, maybe even take advantage of her size control. The possibilities were endless!

But that was for another time. For now, Emma only wanted one thing.

"I want you to use me,” she ordered the giantess over her.

Aaron, his mind behind the eyes of Emma’s own body, looked down at her with confusion. “How?”

“As a dildo, dummy,” she replied, giving a few half-hearted thrusts with her hips. The motion did uncomfortable things to her testicles, trapped between her body and the giantess underneath her, and she screwed up her face and had to adjust. “I’ll shrink down, I want you to cum.”

With that, Emma shrank down to what she already knew was a comfortable size for her to masturbate with Aaron’s body, while still holding a firm grip on it. Maybe six inches or so? The flesh beneath her quickly surged up to meet her. And, just when the shrinking stopped, the giantess’ hand came out of nowhere, slamming into her back and wrapping around her tiny body.

The massive fingers curled around her form with shocking familiarity, as if the giantess had been expecting a human-shaped dildo of her exact form and size for her entire life. The massive fingers that coiled around her legs like sentient snakes made sure that there was no way she could fight against the massive woman’s will. And then, with a stunningly deft motion of the massive woman’s fingers, Emma found herself flipped upside down, and then she was being carried about in a world of chaos and motion.

Almost immediately, Emma found her face shoved up against the burning-hot, slick-wet flesh of the giantess’ pussy. The sudden surge of motion was terrifying, overwhelming. The slimy fluid that had seemed so far away just a minute ago coated her face. Raw, animal panic surged, making it feel like she was suffocating, sending her limbs thrashing, and almost leading her to pull the plug and return to her own body.

But, by now, she had experienced enough at this size that she could quell the panic, at least partly, so she stayed in the shrunken man's body. The noise, the heat, the fluid, the flesh everywhere... It was overwhelming. The only reason Emma even knew what was happening was because it was the very same motion she made when she was about to start masturbating. The giantess slid her down, then up across the exterior of her pussy three times, both getting her soaking wet and making sure that she was fully between the lips of her labia, then it was one more push across the slick flesh, and she was plugned bodily into the burning hot embrace of the giantess' vagina.

It was like entering another world. The heat was unbearable, the pressure of the flesh inescapable. And the fluid, the cloudy, sticky mix of cum and lube and who knew what else, filled every space the flesh did not, drowning her in burning heat.

The entire universe had been replaced by an undifferentiated mass of pink flesh and white fluid. And the giantess wasted no time in using Emma as the dildo she had asked to be. Her body had already been worked up by the sex, it could swallow the living dildo without complaint.

And it felt like being swallowed. The textured walls squeezed her body tight, and she felt the heat and the pressure plunge down all the way to her knees, then ride all the way back up to her neck. For a n instant, Emma felt the chill of the outside air on her freshly-soaked skin, and then she was consumed all the way back down to her knees again, all in less than a second.

The noise, wet flesh slapping and sliding and squelching against more and more wet flesh, was deafening. The heat was stifling. The flesh hugged her face like latex, unless she was able to wrench her head far back enough. But, even then, the only thing to see was a tight fold of flesh parting to invite her deeper into a tight fold of flesh, forever, and drowning in cloudy, salty slime.

She learned quickly that she had to keep at least one hand on her dick to keep it bent upwards, because the force and speed that the giantess masturbated with would bend it excruciatingly far downwards, making an already torturous experience even worse. It was weird that, while being drowned and beaten by her own giant body, she would worry about the discomfort it caused to her borrowed penis, but that's what being in a man's body did to you, she supposed.

It was so fast, so brutal, and each thrust felt like it was the last one, or at least Emma hoped that it was. But each time she thought that she was about to get a breath of fresh air, she was plunged all the way back inside the giantess.

The urge to give up and go back into her own body was growing stronger with every second. She persisted only out of stubbornness, she wanted to experience everything that the tiny man did, until the very end, and if she gave up now, it felt like she would be admitting that she was weaker than he was.

But the giantess was lasting forever! It never felt like it took her this long to cum, but at this size, the rhythms of her own body felt like they lasted ten times as long. She heard the first moan, as if from a million miles away, and knew that the end was near, but with it also came the first squeeze of the giantess' pelvic muscles. The pressure from all sides seemed to increase a hundredfold, leaving the blood pounding in Emma's ears, and yet even that did not stop the giantess from ripping her tiny body in and out, in and out, in and out. And with more and more ferocity as she got closer to climax.

Emma honestly thought that she could handle it, but the contractions kept coming, faster and faster, and the one that came with the giantess' orgasm was like nothing she could have prepared for. After more chaotic ripping through the burning-hot flesh, she abruptly stopped moving, and she let herself think for a moment that the giantess had given her a reprieve. But then the flesh turned to steel and clamped down hard... harder... harder!

Emma panicked. She flailed, but couldn't move an inch. She gasped, but nothing, not even the fluid that surrounded her, entered her mouth. The pressure grew and grew, causing real pain that she hadn't yet felt at this size. She could practically feel her bones creaking, about to snap under the unyielding pressure of a goddess' pelvic muscles. Soon, it would all be over; she would be reduced to a bloody paste by the involuntary spasms of a massive woman's orgasm.

Her orgasm.

Fuck that! No! She was not going to die like this. She would not be killed by her own vagina. At the last minute, she fled back into her own mind.

She was met by a desperate, breathy gasp that escaped from her own mouth. Her eyes were screwed shut, but she could already feel that she was surrounded by fresh air and bedsheets, not clenching flesh and drowning fluid. The pleasure had already climaxed, though she could still feel the tail end of the orgasm tickling her skin. Her body had already tensed as hard as it possibly could; it was all downhill from here.

Immediately, Emma felt a rush of shame. She thought she could endure the most basic thing that her shrunken toy had to experience every day, but she was forced to evacuate, out of pure desperation, only a few seconds before it was done. She grodefinitely had a long way to go to fully explore her relationship with this shrunken man; if she couldn't live his everyday life, how could she expect him to enjoy his role?

And yet Dominique had somehow done it. She had made a pliant servant, and it had only taken a few weeks. Maybe there were months of follow-up, and some loose guidelines for her behavior in the interim, but she had already tested those guidelines and found that her toy's behavior was resilient. For Emma, though, barely five minutes of that existence had made her certain that she was going to die. How had Dom done it?

The ravages of orgasm finally passed, Emma drew a ragged breath, feeling her body go limp in the wake of the pleasure. She would have to spy on Aaron the next time he met Dominique. Live in his body for a time, see what he saw, know what the hell Dominique was actually doing to make him into a willing slave. She had to learn what kind of treatment earned loyalty, both so that she could replicate it and so that she could learn to think that way herself, during those flights of fancy when she felt like living Aaron's role in their relationship.

Then, against her will, her arm reached down to grab the shrunken man stuffed inside her pussy. Emma realized with a start that, though she had re-entered her own mind, she had done so in such a desperate panic that she hadn't seized control back from Aaron.

Normally, being in her own body but not in control of it was suffocating, and she hated doing it for more than a few minutes just to see what Aaron was up to. But, after that time literally suffocating inside her own vagina, the feeling of fresh air on her skin and in her lungs made her calm enough to sit back, or so to speak, and enjoy the show.

Her arm, familiar in weight and motion, yet somehow just a bit alien after spending that time in Aaron's mind, lifted the shrunken man up by his legs and dangled him over her head. The tiny body, thickly covered with faded white streaks of fluid, hair matted down by the slime he had just been drowning in, flopped around totally limp. It almost looked like he was dead, and, given that there was no mind occupying that head of his, that wouldn't have been wrong.

Her mouth opened wide, and her arm descended as much of the shrunken man's body into it as could fit. Her lips closed around the warm, slimy body like she was sucking a grape off the vine, and her mouth filled with the sour, salty taste that Emma had been literally drowning in just a few moments ago. Small and diluted though it was, it still almost revived Emma's panic.

She swallowed, sending the glob of bodily fluids down her throat. So she was going to be enjoying that aftertaste for a while, great. It was that minor indiscretion that finally led her to take back control of her own body. She pushed Aaron's mind back into his body at the same time, forcing him to adapt to the sudden shock of being plunged into the hot, suffocating world inside her mouth.

She could have pulled him out immediately. Spared him from the suffocating existence that she herself had just escaped, but... well... he was the slave, and she was the mistress. She held him in her mouth for a long, long time. Long enough to feel as the panic of being plunged into that dark, dangerous place set in. His body started to squirm, to struggle, to fight desperately for escape. But her tongue was stronger than his entire body, so he just had to endure it.

Finally, after a few seconds of growing struggles, he fell still. He had accepted his place. He had so much more experience at being that size, and he could handle the kinds of things that she, frankly, just couldn't.

And she loved that about him. She loved that he had the uncomplaining endurance of a rubber dildo, but also the conscious will of a man who wanted to please her. At the same time, she was deeply jealous that she couldn't endure the basic experience of her own body as well as he could. If anything, by now, he knew her body better than she knew it herself.

And that wouldn't stand. If she was a dumb giant with a nimble servant, then she was certain that she was being taken advantage of. If she knew less about their combined experiences than he did, she thought that she wasn't taking full advantage of their relationship as giantess and shrunken toy. The fact that a man so small, so utterly in her control, could possible have a one-up on her, set her on edge, and made her determined to set it right.

But how? She contemplated the question, sucking on the tiny man's body for an idle few seconds. She let his legs go, and they plopped down on her chin; Aaron could have maybe used that position as leverage to draw his body out of her mouth, but he just lay there. His legs, warm but so light as to barely make an impression on her skin, felt like fluid dripping down her chin, making her have to resist the temptation to suck the whole mess of his body into her mouth.

She would have to set up some sort of game for herself, she realized. One that she would either win, or have to keep playing until she did. A challenge. The same kind of mental challenge she routinely set for herself while out jogging. Just keep going until the next lamp post. Only it would be far hotter, far more uncomfortable, and unbelievably sexual.

Once she reached that conclusion, the rules of the game were almost immediately clear to her.

She ripped the tiny man from her mouth and kicked herself off the bed all in one motion. She didn't care one bit what was happening to him now, because it was all going to happen to her soon.

"Come on, little man," she muttered. She was swinging her arms as she walked, and Aaron dangled from the end of one of them like the weight on a pendulum; she had no way of knowing whether he could even hear what she was saying, but she didn't really care either. "I have a game for us to play."