Stopping before the broad mirror over what I guessed was the sink area, Christine glanced down at me in her hand. I was not only standing with my feet planted against her soft warm flesh, but my engorged member was standing to attention with palpable arousal.

With the hint of an uneven smile, Christine murmured :

"AM I ONLY IMAGINING THINGS OR ARE YOU EVEN MORE EXCITED SINCE COMING BACK TO ME...?"

She was manoeuvring a fingertip like a flying battering ram into my immediate vicinity, and bumping in playfully into my body, and my damning erection, almost tackling me off my feet. Her humorsome digit had been doing this a lot over the evening. It seemed like mere minutes would pass before the probing presence of another enormous digit hailed down to satisfy her burning curiosity of me, or punctuate a sly remark with a droll poke.

And she was not imagining things. The earlier concentration of airborne jets she and Katie had exposed me to had puffed my shaft up pretty bad, comparable to when Tyler had been holding me.

“IF YOU DON’T MIND, I’M JUST GOING TO TOUCH MY FACE UP,” she indicated. “MAY I SUSPEND YOU ON MY EARRING? JEN TOLD ME YOU’RE AN EXCELLENT LITTLE CLIMBER. AND I THINK YOU MAKE A GREAT LITTLE STUD.”

By ‘stud’ she was alluding to an earring piece; the additional double entendre probably appealed to her as well.

Before I could respond, her palm was bringing me up against the side of her head, taking me up to the tassel earring that dangled from her earlobe. It was like a set of crystalline chains; the glimmering metal-framed tassels provided me with natural handholds.

Crossing the elastic floor of flesh that sunk a little under my feet, I approached the bundle of chains, grabbing the nearest and wrenching myself up, wrapping my legs around it, and using my arms to climb. With my legs wrapped around one of the tassels, my erection kept dragging against the chains as I pulled myself higher, sending pangs along my shaft and into my balls. As my hands and feet ran up the chain, my palms and soles flared out again from earlier climbing Katie’s pantyhose, but I persisted.

I had no choice; Christine’s hand was no longer beneath me, she was now rummaging among bottles of product arranged on some bathroom shelving. If I let go, I would have fallen onto her shoulder, or – worst case scenario – bounced off and fallen onto the tiled floor. If she didn’t see me down there she could accidentally step on me. I’d survive the fall, and I might even survive being stood on, if lucky enough to get caught up under the spaces of her toes, sheltered from the brunt of her unfathomable weight, but the thought of the toes inadvertently scrunching, ripping me to shreds by the scratchy, sandpaper-like hose thrilled me with terror. At least death by fall or being crushed was instantaneous, but death by being grated like cheese between her abrasive pantyhose-covered toes might not be.

Finally, midway up the chain, I decided to stop.

Straight ahead of me was the bathroom mirror. The surface of the mirror was like the perfectly reflective wall of a high-rise building, lacking window grids. In it I saw myself, peering out from the glimmering crystal vines of Christine’s earring, clinging there, hopelessly dwarfed by the great flesh shell of her ear, positioned above me, not to mention her much larger head, and then her unfathomably larger body, the full extent of which the mirror and my perspective concealed. As for me, bundled in amidst the earring, most of my visible body was a tiny face, biceps and legs and a monstrous dick bulging out from between the tassels.

Christine was staring back at me in the mirror. It struck me – all at once – how bizarre I must look, and a wave of shame hit me; not just for my exaggerated anatomy but the fact I was reduced to dangling from her earring.  I looked away.

“You wanted to tell me something, Christine?” I inquired, trying to distract myself.

“OH! THAT’S BETTER,” she paused, taking pleasure in hearing me so close to her ear. “YOUR VOICE DOESN’T SOUND FARAWAY. AND WHAT AN ADORABLE LITTLE CROON YOU HAVE WHEN I CAN ACTUALLY HEAR IT PROPERLY.”

In the mirror reflection, I watched helplessly as her arm lifted, her gigantic hand shooting straight for me before her fingers blocked out my view, blundering around, trying to identify my tiny form amongst the hanging crystal chains. My stinging palms gripped tight against the delicate metalwork as the thin chains were jostled by her intruding digits, which knocked me back and forth like a chandelier in an earthquake. As the chains rattled and whipped my throbbing dick, a series of shuddering gasps escaped my throat. Then my chest gave a pained squeak as I was near squished between the digits as they recklessly bumped together in their quest to gently capture my feather-thin substance between them.

They withdrew again, letting the chains sway gently and come to rest, apart from swinging any time she turned her head. Whenever that happened, the crystal chains of her earrings quivered all around my rock hard erection, jiggling around me whenever she moved her head.

“CLEVER SPOT TO KEEP YOU, DON’T YOU AGREE?”

“Can’t think of a better one,” I gulped.

Turning her attention back to the bottle of foundation in her hands, and unscrewing the lid, she began more seriously:

"THERE’S A REASON I STOLE YOU AWAY,” she confessed. “YESTERDAY JEN AND I HAD A GOOD YAK OVER THE PHONE ABOUT ALL MANNER OF THINGS...LIKE YOU, FOR INSTANCE."

"Oh. Nothing bad I hope,” I said, trying to talk loudly and sound unconcerned at the same time, hoping the projection of my voice at volume would conceal my nervousness. Jennifer was a repository of all kinds of embarrassing factoids she could produce about me at whim, at the low, low price of my dignity.

"SWEETIE..." Christine paused as her eyes drifted thoughtfully, biting her lip as if formulating words in her head, "...SHE'S DONE RUNNING AROUND. HER HEART HAS SPOKEN AND THAT'S IT."

"Sorry?"

She was dipping a foundation brush into the bottle, and then turned the brush to check it. Keeping the brush suspended for a moment, her gaze in the mirror shifted across to me again, and she said kindly:

"SHE'S WILD ABOUT YOU. SHE THINKS YOU'RE THE ONE."

My mouth had started to go dry.

“I wish she had consulted me before she had that revelation.”

She dipped the brush into the mixture once more and then, putting the bottle on the countertop, began applying the foundation to her face, keeping her eyes on her reflection in the mirror.

"I THINK IT'S WONDERFUL," she went on. “THERE'S SOMETHING DIFFERENT ABOUT HER. SANGUINE. WHEN WE WERE YOUNGER, SHE COULD BE SO MOODY..."

"The moodiness is still there," I said. "Sometimes…"

"WELL, LISTEN, I KNOW SHE’S TEMPERAMENTAL. HER BOYS HAVE ALWAYS BEEN TOYS. SHE’D BE ENTERTAINED WITH THEM A WHILE AND THEN IT WAS ONTO THE NEXT PLAYTHING.”

Checking the foundation on her cheeks, she quickly decided it wasn’t what she wanted, used a wipe to clear it away, and put the bottle aside before searching around the shelves for something else.

"I THOUGHT SHE WOULD NEVER SETTLE. BUT YOU'RE DIFFERENT."

"Well," I scoffed, "if you mean that I'm as big as a fingernail clipping..."

"AND BEFORE YOUR ACCIDENT?" she said, eyeing me briefly in the mirror. Then she remarked:

"AFTER GRADUATION WE DRIFTED APART, AND THEN YOU CAME ALONG. SHE’S NEVER BEEN ONE TO NEED A MAN. AND DON’T BE MISTAKEN, MY LITTLE STUD, SHE DOESN’T NEED YOU, STRICTLY SPEAKING. BUT SHE WANTS TO HAVE YOU. AND SHE WANTS TO HAVE YOU BECAUSE SHE CAN.”

Unsure of how to respond, I said nothing.

"I’VE NEVER COMPLETELY UNDERSTOOD HER TYPE, BUT WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING,” she shuffled some bottles on the shelf, pulled one of them down and checked the label before putting it back again, “KEEP DOING IT."

"I appreciate your advice, Christine, but that doesn't help me in the size department."

"PERHAPS IT DOES," she said softly. "SHE’S ALWAYS FOUND COUPLEDOM TOUGH IN PRACTICE. BUT SHE TOLD ME, THAT WITH YOU, SHE HASN'T HAD TO GIVE UP AN INCH OF HERSELF. YOU ACCOMODATE HER MORE THAN ENOUGH. AND MAKE NO MISTAKE: YOU’RE A VERY CUTE LITTLE THING TO HAVE HANGING AROUND.”

Deliberating over some blush, she added coyly:

"IF SHE HADN'T CLAIMED YOU ALREADY, WELL, CAN'T SAY I WOULDN'T SNATCH YOU UP FOR MYSELF. I’M NOT CERTAIN WHERE IT WOULD TAKE US, BUT YOU DO MAKE SUCH A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE EARRING PENDANT; SO DELICATE AND SUBTLE, YOUR TINY FACE PEEKING OUT THERE, AND NO ONE ELSE WOULD EVEN KNOW UNTIL I POINTED YOU OUT…”

She was murmuring to herself now.

I went silent again.

In previous experience, my size had a strange and potent effect on females. One part of the female brain interpreted my muscular physique as 'hot' while another interpreted my small stature as ‘cute’, like a baby animal, and both signals blended together to create an irresistible hybrid attraction. Women ended up flustered with indecision; not able to decide whether they wanted to rub and tickle my belly or engulf my face in steamy kisses. It didn't bother Jen: she normally compromised by doing both at the same time. The attention should have been flattering, except I had never liked being in the spotlight; usually it was an occasion for embarrassment more than ego-bolstering.

Christine’s voice came back, interrupting my distracted silence.

"DON’T YOU FORGET, THIS IS BETWEEN US,” she said, having dispensed with the blush to apply a coat of chapstick to her lips, but now pausing with the tube halfway to her face so she could speak. I watched the balmy flattened nub with cautious wonder; if it made contact with my body, I would’ve been caught on its sticky glossed tip like an ant on a glue stick. “SHE CAN BE HEADSTRONG IF SHE THINKS SOMEONE ELSE IS SLIPPING OVER INTO HER TERRITORY – YOU KNOW HOW SHE IS.” She gave me a small, humourless smile. “SHE WANTS IT TO COME FROM YOU."

"Sorry, Christine –” I butt in, “—she wants what to come from me?"

Now the graceful blonde had found some clear skin gel and was squeezing a blob onto her palm. She went on gently:

"YOU TWO HAVE ALREADY HAD SOME MISSTEPS – SHE’S TOLD ME. AND IT'S BOTHERING HER. SHE DOESN'T WANT TO SCARE YOU AWAY, SO SHE HASN'T SAID ANYTHING."

"About what...?" I was stalling, trying to figure out if I even wanted to have this conversation, if I was ready for it.

Christine let out a rush of breath, flashing me a brief pitying look.

"ALL OF THIS FUSS OVER THAT CRYSTAL RING…” she said, shaking her head, and sending me whipping back and forth, rattling around amidst her dangling earring. She looked at me. “SHE'S GIVEN YOU A BIG, BRIGHT HINT, JERRY. YOU MUST HAVE PICKED UP ON IT."

“It was never meant to be an engagement ring,” I said up into her lofty ear. “We’re both clear on that.”

“SO YOU SAY. BUT SHE HAS IT IN HER HEAD THAT YOU BUYING HER THAT EXPENSIVE RING WAS A DRESS REHEARSAL FOR ACT TWO. THE REAL THING."

When I didn’t say anything, she added:

“SHE ASKED YOU, AND YOU BOUGHT IT FOR HER WITHOUT QUESTION. SHE'S DOING THE CALCULATIONS IN HER HEAD EVEN AS WE SPEAK." 

Oh fuck… I thought with regret, thinking of her showing it off at the dinner table, with me inside. In fact, us coming to this dinner get-together in the first place; it seemed to all connect somehow, or not entirely be just another of her whims. Then again, I had been so wrapped up in my own problems navigating the world at my size, I hadn’t paid a lot of attention to reading her behaviour so deeply. How could I see the forest for the trees when I couldn’t even see a single tree; my entire worldview was at the insect level, amongst the tree roots? It hadn’t even occurred to me that she could possibly be thinking about the long term right now with me struggling at my current size.

It made no sense, and I didn’t completely agree with what Christine said, even if she’d known Jennifer longer than I had. She made it sound like it was all a sly, elaborate test but, actually, Jen had tossed up the ring idea almost flippantly – as if ready to recant the idea at the first sign of my displeasure. I had eagerly green lit the whole thing because I was just happy to have some promise of being able to travel with her safely. It gave me proximity to her plus a shield around my body. It had seemed perfect at the time, but nothing more than a glittery carry case. Certainly not a subliminal signal that I was trying to send out. Yes, it had been overpriced, but my funds covered it; funds which I’d received to cover accommodations for me to achieve some semblance of a functional, enjoyable life. As far as I was concerned, the ring fit that category.

As for the big question…I loved Jennifer – always had – and I imagined that would be the case for a long time coming. But I didn’t know how I felt about turning our relationship into something else. Even when I’d been normal sized the idea of commitment frightened me, the idea of not having a space to call my own. Being tied up to her momentum as if by chain. She was utterly engaging but so vivacious that in her company, little time was left over for myself. I panted for breath trying to keep up with her impulsive exuberance.

“If she was serious,” I said slowly, “I think she would have made it clearer.”

Christine paused.

“THE POWER OF SUGGESTION: A LITTLE THING WE WOMEN DO WHEN WE WANT SOMETHING.”

“Jen’s not the subtle type,” I scoffed.

“I DON'T BELIEVE YOU'RE GIVING HER POWERS OF PERSUASION ENOUGH CREDIT. SHE CAN BE SUBTLE WHEN SHE WANTS TO BE." Her eyes twinkled, and she said kindly: “ASSUMING IT'S NOT YOU WHO IS THE ONE BEING A LITTLE ON THE OBTUSE SIDE."

The scaled up extension of a digit glided in and gave my head a small, affectionate tap with a handcream-covered fingertip, which accidentally biffed my head and caused my face to get stuck to her finger for a second, pulling me with its movement. Then I came unstuck again, but had a big sticky blob of clear fragrant cream sitting over my face like a jellyfish. I shook my head and wiped my face against the chains to try and clear it. I couldn't use my hands because then they'd get too slippery to hang onto the tassel.

“OOPS,” she giggled, adding by way of apology: “YOU’RE AS SOFT AND LIGHT AS POWDER, DARLING.”

Once my mouth was clear enough of gunk for me to speak again, I explained:

“The reason the ring cost so much was because of the work required to cut the stone into an interior chamber. It wasn't for show. I didn’t intend any mixed messages.”

“I MAY NOT KNOW WHAT YOU INTENDED OR WHAT YOU DIDN'T INTEND, SO LET'S PUSH THAT ASIDE FOR NOW. LET'S TALK ABOUT THE RING YOU'RE GOING TO GET HER WHEN YOU POP THE QUESTION."

"How do I give her a ring? How do I even fit a ring inside my hands? – I fit inside a ring in her hands!”

“YOU'E GETTING FLUSTERED, BUT IT'S OKAY. IT'S SCARY. TYLER WAS BLINKING AND SWEATING AN AWFUL LOT WHEN HE PROPOSED TO ME.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, but am I the only person who is able to see how insane this is?”

“EVERYONE FEELS LIKE THAT WHEN IT’S THEIR TURN.”

“But, I mean, people throw grains of rice at weddings – I’m the size of a grain of rice! And has anyone thought about the wedding photo? They’re gonna need a forensic analysis level of zoom! And then, if they get me in detail, she’ll be blurry, and if they get her in detail, I’ll be a blur. No way! It’d be a mess! Do you really think – ?!”

To get my attention, a humongous finger lifted and jingled the earring tassels, causing them to knock and tinkle around me, waving me around until I stopped talking. My palms started stinging again as I gripped the chains hard, and flexed my legs, wrapping them more tightly around the metal rope.

“SOUNDS TO ME LIKE YOU'RE BLOWING THE ISSUE UP. PERHAPS SHE HAS BEEN GOING THROUGH THIS WITH HERSELF ALREADY, AND THE IDEA OF SAYING ‘I DO’ TO A GRAIN-SIZED GROOM DOESN’T SEEM TO HAVE DETERRED HER ONE LITTLE BIT." 

"But I don’t – I-I..." my voice was stammering.

“A LITTLE LOUDER FOR ME, DARLING. THAT SWEET LITTLE HUMMING VOICE IS BREAKING UP.”

"I'm in no position to get married right now,” I cried out. “I mean— " I let out a bark of nervous laughter, "—look at me!"

"THIS MUST BE SO OVERWHELMING FOR YOU, IT'S UNDERSTANDABLE. IT’S A VERY BIG THING TO ASK SOMEONE. BUT I REALLY THINK SHE’S ONTO SOMETHING. YOU'RE A GOOD INFLUENCE ON HER." She raised an eyebrow at me. “YOU STILL LOVE HER, DON'T YOU?"

"I love her more than anything."

She dabbed a tissue around her mouth to fix up some chapstick smear, and then put it down and held me in her steady gaze.

"IT'S ONE THING TO SAY THAT, BUT SHE'S TRUSTING YOU TO COME THROUGH FOR HER WITH ACTION; MAKE THE WORDS REAL." 

Action? I thought. My ability to undertake independent action was at an all-time low.

"I...I don't even know where to begin," I said, my muscles slumping a little before I was able to catch myself and tighten my grip again.

"HOW ABOUT YOU BEGIN NOW?” she said calmly, wiping product off her fingertips with a tissue. Her voice got low and discreet. “THE THING ABOUT JEN IS THAT SHE REFUSES TO BE KEPT WAITING."

“I know,” I sighed. “That’s…why we separated the first time.”

The crystal tassels swished against me and the great mirror swung away as Christine turned and tossed scrunched wads of tissue into a little pedal bin on the floor. Then, clinging tightly, I flew back around as she faced the mirror again, giving me a look of understanding.

“BETWEEN YOU AND ME, SHE’S HAD HER FATHER WRAPPED AROUND HER LITTLE FINGER EVER SINCE SHE WAS A YOUNG GIRL. I THINK SHE WAS A TEENSY BIT SPOILT FOR BEING THE ONLY GIRL OUT OF ALL HER BROTHERS.” 

Taking this in, I pressed my cheek against the metal-frame crystal chain I was clinging to.

“That makes sense.”

Christine smiled.

"IT'S ALL CLICKING INTO PLACE NOW, ISN'T IT?” She said facetiously, turning the sink water on and rubbing her hands under it. “SHE'S A DADDY'S GIRL. AND DADDY NEVER SAID NO.”

“I guess she can be a little…entitled sometimes.”

Christine gave a low, thrumming laugh.

“VERY MILD OF YOU, JERRY,” she said.

“Okay,” I exhaled. “She’s the reincarnation of an imperial empress.”

“THAT SOUNDS MORE LIKE THE JENNIFER I KNOW.”

Her reflection stopped and, gripping her hands on the counter edge, leaned in towards the mirror to fix me with a long look of veiled amusement.

“DOES THAT MAKE YOU HER REINCARNATED LOVER? MAYBE SHE’S BEEN AFTER YOU FOR MORE THAN A FEW OF HER LIVES.”

“I don’t believe in that kind of thing. Neither does she.”

Smiling to herself, Christine turned away from the mirror to take a towel up and started drying her hands on it. The tassels lashed me as her head turned. I grimaced as my hands and legs flexed tight to hold my grip.

“YOU HAVEN’T HEARD THE WAY SHE TALKS ABOUT YOU.”

Then I was whirled back around, the chain tassels shook and whipped against me a second time as she turned again to look back into the mirror.

“THIS IS UNUSUAL FOR HER,” she conceded in afterthought, absent-mindedly stroking her neck while tilting her head and causing me to fly face first into the underside of her jaw in a clatter of chains. “BUT…ONCE SHE GETS ATTACHED TO SOMETHING THERE’S NO SEPARATING HER FROM IT.”

She straightened her head again; her jaw angled away from me as the bathroom rotated back into normal position. As I steadied my grip again, what she had said repeated in my head: Daddy’s girl. My gut lurched.

“Oh, man…” I groaned, shutting my eyes and rubbing my face against the chain tassel I was gripping.

“WHAT’S WRONG?”

“No, nothing, I…” I took a breath, “…if I propose, I’ve got to get her father’s approval.”

“I SUPPOSE, IF YOU WANT TO DO IT THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY,” she gave me a small, perplexed frown. “BUT IT’S NOT A REQUIREMENT ANYMORE, AS A MATTER OF NORMAL PRACTICE.”

“This isn’t normal practice.” Setting my jaw, I emphasized: “Her parents need to be on board for it.”

What did I have to fear, anyway?  If her father refused, it would make for a very quick – if painful – conclusion. Would that be so bad? Good or bad, such a reaction made total sense to me.

How could I forget the look of pitying bemusement in Natalie’s eyes when she’d calmly foreclosed any possibility of someone my size being her groom? Somewhere deep down, I still nursed feelings of what might have been with her, if for her infectious smile and laughter – how easy it was to make her laugh – her non-teasing love, and warm, unconditional kisses and cuddles that didn’t hungrily probe for more. I even had a horrible gut feeling there was a normal size Jerry in a parallel universe somewhere enjoying an uncomplicated relationship with ‘alternate’ Natalie, and probably further into a planful future with her than I was with Jen. Anyway, the memory still brought on a dull ache, exacerbated by the words ‘marriage’ and ‘wedding.’

Now I was that much smaller again. To imagine the look on Natalie’s face if she saw me now, wrestling with the big question. The idea made my heart sink with despair.

How could I look up into the eyes of Jasper Tomlin – at my stupidly diminutive size – and convince him I made the best match life partner for his doted on only daughter? Surely, I would be lucky if he even heard me out without bursting into laughter. If he even heard me at all.

“ENTIRELY UP TO YOU,” Christine shrugged. “BUT SOUNDS TO ME LIKE SOMEONE’S GOING TO BE A BUSY LITTLE STUD IN THE NEAR FUTURE.”

“I have a lot I need to figure out,” I agreed.

Leaning against the sink counter, she observed me in the mirror a moment longer. I began to blush, feeling more helpless – pressed against her dangling earring, swinging in the faintest air current – more impotent than ever.

“TAKE MY ADVICE,” she began sagely, “DON’T RAISE THE ISSUE WITH HER TONIGHT. SHE’S GOING TO KNOW I PROMPTED YOU. HERE’S WHAT WE’LL DO: I’LL HELP YOU GET THINGS MOVING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION; I KNOW JASPER; HE’S JUST A TIGER WITH THE HEART OF A PUSSYCAT. YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR FROM HIM. JUST LEAVE IT WITH ME.”

“Thanks, Christine. I appreciate your help. Really.”

“DON’T MENTION IT, SNOOKUMS. AND GOOD LUCK.” 

The chains started swaying me around as Christine turned and we left the bathroom.