"Will there be another race to/Come along and take over for us/Maybe Martians can do/Better than we've done."
--"Pets," Porno for Pyros
The man was down on one knee, coughing up blood.
He looked up into the swimming face of the titaness who assaulted him, and stammered a halting "I am?sorry?mistress."
"As well you should be," the woman sneered down. "Believe me, Victor, you do not want to anger me further."
"Of course not?mistress."
His name was not Victor. It was the name they'd given him a month ago, when they'd captured him. He had been living alone in California, hanging out in a bad area; he didn't have any friends to report him missing. There had been disappearances in the area before; he'd heard the rumors.
He grimaced in pain, and waited for the woman to give him the command.
"Again," she said. "You may eat the food from the sole of my foot only when I allow you to."
"No, you don't. Believe me, for what you'll fetch when you go on sale, you'd damn well better learn to obey. Now. Let us try this again."
◘ ◘ ◘
The woman exited into the Glasgow airport, and walked through, barely noting the generic surroundings as she headed toward the baggage claim.
She had been searching down leads for months, trying to find what she thought she may have finally found. She still couldn't believe that she actually had flown from the U.S. to Scotland to find it?.
Her cell rang. It startled her momentarily, before she remembered that she'd paid to have it upgraded to allow reception in Britain. She answered quickly.
"Are you in Glasgow?" a chipper voice at the other end enquired in a muted burr.
"I just arrived," she said. "What now?"
"Go ahead and check in at your hotel, and get a nap in. You don't want to be jet-lagged. Tomorrow, come to the Barras at eleven A.M. We're in a stand marked 'Collectible Dolls Ltd.' Ask for Beatrice."
"Is that you?"
"Not exactly, Ms. Janaczek. But close enough."
The phone went dead.
She smiled slightly, and watched for her bag. This was exactly what she'd been waiting for.
◘ ◘ ◘
Victor was thrown back in the holding cage with the other trainees. Electra gasped as she saw him. "You look terrible!" the woman explained, rushing over to her fellow four-inch-tall prisoner.
"Well, I had Mistress Yvette training me," he said with a weak smile.
Electra smiled back, just a bit. She was a beauty?she still looked like the short little athlete she'd been in the real world, when she'd been known as Bekah Montgomery. She'd never expected to be imprisoned at 23, soon to go up for sale.
Victor smiled at the nude beauty, appreciative of her attractiveness without being lustful; being lustful toward a fellow slave would have been a betrayal. He'd been surprised to find women among the prisoners, back a month ago when he'd been captured. But Electra had set him straight.
"Yeah, this may be more a women-shrinking-men thing, but there are plenty of men willing to purchase a tiny woman. Plenty of women, for that matter," she'd said back then. It made sense. The women and men running this scheme weren't macrophiles; they were mercenaries.
Mercenaries who had found their market.
Most of the slaves were easily broken. The average person was discombobulated enough by being shrunk that they soon fell under the spell of their mistresses and masters; they'd already been tortured.
Electra and Victor were the exception. They had resisted the easy brainwashing. They still showed a bit of fight, no matter the assaults that they took.
They'd learned that their bruises healed quickly; it was a blessing and a curse. For each day they awoke almost healed, and each day they fell asleep battered anew.
So as Electra fussed over Victor's bruises, he sighed. Just another day in Hell.
◘ ◘ ◘
"So who is coming tomorrow, Beatrice?"
The woman smiled at the bald man addressing her in his thick Slavic accent. "A few speculators, Yuri. An American woman looking for a challenge?someone to dominate. I was thinking Victor might be ready for sale."
"Hmmf. Yvette says he is still disobedient."
"Yes," said the redhead, sweeping her hair out of her eyes. "But it strikes me that Ms. Janaczek would enjoy that. And if she breaks him?well, it strikes me she might become a repeat customer."
"Well, you know what you're doing. Who else?"
"One of your countrymen is looking for three women to be perfect servants. And?this is my favorite?a woman from America looking for a surprise for her wife."
"No, a woman. She wants someone feisty. I think Electra's ready."
"Adopting out our problem children both in one day, Beatrice? I find your faith remarkable."
"Da, Yuri. But faith springs eternal."
◘ ◘ ◘
Dawn broke over the gritty town.
Glasgow is not without its charms, but it will never be confused with its sister to the east, Edinburgh. Where Edinburgh is pretty and gossamer, Glasgow is built of steel and sweat and tears and muscle. It is a working town, not a playing town.
Anna Baez walked through the city center on the way to the Barras?the overgrown flea market that had long ago set up permanent residence on the southeast corner of downtown. She had an appointment to keep.
She looked around in just a bit of wonder. She couldn't quite believe that fate had brought her here. She wondered what she'd be offered today. She'd asked for a girl; to her surprise, they had one. Feisty, as she'd requested.
She negotiated through the pirated CDs and knockoff handbags to a nondescript booth covered in dolls. Another woman was already there?a young girl, couldn't have been far out of college. She smiled at Anna briefly; Anna smiled back.
"Beautiful weather today," Anna said, walking up beside the woman.
"Indeed. I'm afraid we may be in for a small shower later, though."
"Small showers often develop into bigger ones," Anna said, almost absently, then smiled. "Anna Baez."
"I'm Elizabeth Janaczek. But my friends call me Star. Tell me, what brings you to Scotland?"
"Well, I'm in the British Isles because I'm studying the works of Mary Wollstonecraft. But I'm here today to meet a woman named Beatrice."
"Interested in dolls, eh?"
Anna smiled. "You could say that."
As they waited, a large Russian approached. The two women looked at him, and back at each other.
"Zdrastvuitye," the man said. "My name is Sergei Mikhailov. Are you two waiting for Beatrice?"
◘ ◘ ◘
About five minutes later, a woman finally appeared in response to the page of the bored-looking clerk. "Elizabeth? Anna? Sergei? Excellent! I'm glad to see you all. Come with me."
The three followed the woman out of the building and onto the street, where a small van was waiting. They entered, and as they did, a large man approached, carrying three hoods.
"I'm terribly sorry," the woman said, "but it just wouldn't do for you to know exactly where our location was."
"Think nothing of it," said Elizabeth, as she was engulfed in darkness.
The three speculators rode on, and finally, Anna spoke up. "I must admit, I was wondering if you had any women available."
The woman who had greeted them replied cheerfully in a warm Scottish brogue. "Indeed. We'd not expected the market to be so robust for them. But there's been more than a call for the wee lassies. They're almost a third of our business now. Eh, Sergei Borisovich?"
"Yes. I am here to purchase two women."
Anna wondered what Sergei could have planned for the women; she doubted that their plans were the same. Nevertheless, she thought that if she could pick out a little woman doll, no reason a man couldn't do the same.
The car rumbled on toward points unknown.
◘ ◘ ◘
"Victor! Electra! Raisa! Sofya! You four are being shown today. Come forward!"
Mistress Yvette's no-nonsense tone had surprised the four of them. Electra and Victor had looked at each other apprehensively; as hellish as this existence had been, they had no desire to be separated. Being in Hell together had its advantages.
But they knew better than to cross Yvette. They dutifully put on their costumes that they'd been given, as did Raisa, a young Israeli born to Russian émigrés, and Sofya, who had been taken from her home in Budapest. "There must be a Russian coming," Raisa said, quietly, in hesitant English. She was barely eighteen; she'd been kidnapped from a club in Tel Aviv a month ago, and still couldn't quite believe that the club wasn't rubble, that her place here wasn't simply a place in Hell.
Sofya muttered a few words in Russian to Raisa; she was grateful for even that. Her Russian was poor, but nobody spoke Bulgarian. If only there was someone to speak German to?but Helmut had been taken a week before, and Viktor?best not to think about Viktor.
The four slaves walked to the receiving area. "So," said Electra. "If I get adopted?."
Viktor looked at Electra longingly. He'd had many lusts in his life. This was different.
"They listen, Electra. But?I?I always?."
His voice broke, just a bit. Electra looked at him and nodded. "I love you too," she mouthed.
She just hoped she'd have the opportunity to see him again some day.
◘ ◘ ◘
The three customers were led into the room cautiously. "Now, I'm sure you know," said Beatrice, "that we train all our tiny people carefully to obey your every command. I want you to watch this training video first?it gives you some pointers on how to discipline the little men or women in your charge without breaking them."
Elizabeth raised her hand. "What if we want to break them?" she said, innocently.
Beatrice smiled. "You can always buy another one, ma'am. But for fifty thousand pounds, I'd think you'd be careful."
Elizabeth laughed. Yes, this was costing a pretty penny. But this was going to be so worth it.
The video itself wasn't particularly graphic?indeed, its very chipper, upbeat, foodservice-training-film quality was almost jarring. Anna found herself with her mouth hanging open at some of the "discipline." It looked more like torture. But she held her tongue; the poor girl she adopted would be free of that soon enough. She had no desire to hurt her toy.
Sergei sat coolly, a cipher. The two women occasionally looked at him, but said nothing. If he had thoughts, they were buried deep.
The video ended and the lights came back on. "All right!" said Beatrice cheerfully. "Who wants to meet their new toys?"
◘ ◘ ◘
Victor had watched Electra as she was taken away?watched her until she left the room. Then they took the two other women away. Now it was just he and Yvette.
"Now, little one," said Yvette murderously, "I warn you; this buyer we have for you is less than predictable. I think she'd like to break you. I hope she does.
"But not until after we get our money. Comprenez-vous?"
"I understand, mistress," said Victor with a bow. Truthfully, he'd be no more obedient for his new mistress. But she could scarcely do worse than the beautiful demon before him.
With this agreed upon, Yvette carried him into an anteroom, and placed him unceremoniously on a table.
"She'll be here in a moment. Be ready."
And with that, Yvette left.
Victor paced nervously. He couldn't believe that this was happening now. He wasn't ready. He had to?.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a beautiful young woman entered the room. She was petite, he thought, oddly, though she was of course a titan of a woman as were they all. Her brown hair was pulled back into a simple pony tail, dark brown eyes searched him over behind glasses. She looked at him for a moment, and then leaned down until her face was almost touching his. He swallowed hard. And then she said something in a low whisper that only he could possibly have heard.
And his eyes went wide.
◘ ◘ ◘
Anna saw the tiny woman huddling on the table, and rushed to her. "Don't be afraid," she said. "I saw that video, I won't hurt you like that. I'd really like to be friends."
Electra looked at the giantess warily; she was beautiful, Electra thought. Dark eyes, dark hair, and a kind countenance that put Electra instantly at ease. This might be okay, she thought.
"My name's Anna," said the giantess, leaning down and stroking the hair of her tiny charge. "I'd like to get to know you better."
Electra nodded, and began disrobing. They were supposed to service their new mistresses or masters now. Show them what they were getting for their money.
Electra would have preferred that the kind person was a man; she would have much preferred it had been Victor.
But she swallowed hard, and decided that if she had to service a giant, at least this one seemed kind.
◘ ◘ ◘
The giantess had pulled down her panties but left her skirt on. "Pleasure me," she had said simply. And so Victor had walked up the skirt, cautiously. He saw her vagina ahead, and stroked it carefully. The woman quivered just a bit. He sighed, and his mind raced.
"Well, don't just sit there," a small voice said. "She's going to appear to be unhappy if you don't do something."
Victor looked up, surprised, at the tiny man who was stroking the clitoris of the titaness. "The handsomest among these Maids of Honour?."
Victor stammered out the concluding, "?a pleasant, frolicksome Girl of Sixteen. You're with the Society?"
"Bingo," said the man. "Name's Steve, code name 'Explorer.' I'm a Defender. So's Jana."
"You're touching her labia. Her code's 'Star,' also a Defender. You must be 'Mallrat.'"
Victor smiled broadly. "Yes I am. I was wondering when you all would get here."
"Well, Commander, we're at your disposal. But?help my girlfriend out, will ya? She's been horny all day. Missions affect her like that."
"You must have an interesting relationship," said Greg Robertson as he touched the giantess' clit.
"You don't know the half of it," said Steve, grinning broadly.
◘ ◘ ◘
Defender Ana Garcia (Code name "Wollstonecraft") smiled at the little woman who was currently resting in her cleavage.
Electra was a bright girl. Ana thought that anyone as together as she was would go far no matter what. They were talking?Ana still carrying on the fiction that she would be adopting Electra as a wedding gift, biding her time, waiting for the signal.
Suddenly, there was an explosion from an adjacent room.
"Right on time, Sergei," she said, grabbing Electra.
Electra, for her part, was stunned to find herself suddenly flying across a room. She had thought she was pleasing her new mistress, who was now shouting "Grow 18:1!" at her while the ground approached and then suddenly hit?.
Bekah rolled over. She was unharmed, despite the fall. But something was different.
The woman. She wasn't a giant anymore.
"We've got work to do, Electra," said the woman, holding out her hand. "And not a lot of time."
◘ ◘ ◘
As the fight raged in the holding room, Beatrice moved quickly through the back office.
"Stop, Beatrice! You have some explaining to do! You said the Society would never catch us!"
"Well, Yuri, they have. Are you coming with me, or am I escaping on my own?"
"What? You are leaving now? Idiot!"
Beatrice simply looked at the portly gangster, and raised her hand. In an eyeblink, he was reduced to three inches tall.
"Yuri, it was fun. I learned a lot. I accomplished what I needed to. But it's time to cut my losses."
"Beatrice! Restore me right now!" cried the tiny boss.
"My name isn't Beatrice," said the woman in a clipped American accent, as she brought her right foot down on him. She kept the pressure up, feeling the delightful crunch as the man's ribcage collapsed.
Turning on the ball of her right foot, the woman continued out.
◘ ◘ ◘
The mop-up was already in full-swing. There were only eight staff members there at any one time, and six of them were currently shrunk and sitting in the holding pen that had been home to the forty men and women who now were finding themselves oddly immense.
"Mistress Yvette looks pretty helpless, doesn't she?" said Bekah, shivering involuntarily.
"Yeah, she does."
"What will happen to them?"
"They'll be held by the Society," said Greg, smiling broadly. "And there's enough information here to bring down the entire ring. This was a good day."
"So you're one of them? You were undercover all along? You could've?"
"Yeah," he said, sorrowfully. "I'm sorry. You don't know how many times I wanted to help you escape. But I had to keep buttoned up or I'd jeopardize the mission."
"I didn't mean that?I understand that," said Bekah, firmly. "I meant that you could've struck back at them through all that abuse, but you didn't. That's impressive."
"No," said Greg. "Impressive is not being able to strike back, and enduring it anyway."
Bekah dimpled. "Let's just both be impressed," she said, leaning in for a long, slow first kiss.
The first of many.
There was a cough, and the two broke. Greg looked at the Russian, who was beaming. "Thank you, tovarishch. Your organization's help is greatly appreciated by the Russian government."
"Happy to help. These kidnap rings aren't good for anybody. So, did you get your man?"
"They found him crushed like an insect. Evidently he and Beatrice had a disagreement."
"Speaking of her?."
"No sign," said Jana, returning to the fold. "Looks like she escaped out the back."
"Wonder who she was," mused Steve.
"A real bitch," said Greg. "Come on, let's get these people home."