Submitting to Jen without question was a bad idea and I honestly should have known better.

Starting from when she took me out and put me down in the car’s cupholder before racing back into the house to grab a small hamster pet carrier, tossing it into the back seat.

“What do we need that for?” I looked over the top of the cup holder as she slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Surprisingly, she didn’t relocate me between her thighs, but kept me in the cupholder. She seemed a little preoccupied and it must have slipped her mind.

“JUST IN CASE,” she replied, shrugging loosely. Then she flashed me a reassuring smile.

A shiver crawled up my spine. Jen giving me warm reassuring smiles for no reason? Now I knew something was wrong.

The ride to the veterinary clinic was a little rough, no support every time we swung around a turn, and every crack in the road bumping up through my skeleton. I even started to wish I was back between her thighs, which at least cushioned the impacts. By the time we arrived, my stomach was doing somersaults, and not just from motion sickness.

*

“JENNIFER, GOOD MORNING,” the young vet said, with a nod at my fiancée, who stood at the table side.

The vet’s footwear tapped around the floor to the side of the examination table. She turned from person to living skyscraper, peering down at me with clinical fascination.

“AND HOMO MINISCULUS HIMSELF.” A pair of rubber gloves were being stretched and fitted over her hands. Her hips came up to the table edge and her hands rested on the table as she leaned forward to inspect me. “HI TO YOU TOO, HOMO MINISCULUS.”

I stood on the clean white sheet draped over the table, feeling pale. I felt like I had stepped into a cage with invisible bars.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I said. My voice came out too soft, and I blushed and said it again, louder. “I shouldn’t be here!”

Jen began to stroke my hair.

The vet’s lips pressed in a patient smile.

“AND SOUNDS LIKE WE HAVE A LITTLE CHATTERBOX TODAY.”

I balked. My mouth had had gone dry. Swallowing, I finally said:

“I’m just here to have my file notes updated. That’s all. I’m not taking Roburfortis anymore.”

“SO I’VE HEARD,” the vet nodded at Jen. “I HAVE A THEORY WHY IT PUT SO MUCH STRESS ON YOUR HEART.” While she spoke, she put a stethoscope around her neck and put the rubber earpieces in. “BUT FIRST LET’S GET A LITTLE LOOK AT YOU.”

Her immense height doubled over me, trapping me under the ceiling of her upper body. The chest pocket of her scrubs was big enough for me to drop into. View of the pocket rapidly disappeared behind a huge encroaching gloved hand, which took my head into a gentle pincer to hold it still, while the rest of her hand cupped around my back. Her other hand took the end of the stethoscope and slid it around over my bare chest. The metal instrument was as cold as if she’d pressed a glass of icy water to my chest.

“Aaah!”

“TRY TO RELAX, MY TEENSY CUPCAKE,” the vet said, lifting a finger off the stethoscope and tapping it delicately against my chin. Something welled inside my chest, like a need to yell and shake my fists. I held it down. I couldn’t let myself completely lose it within minutes of the examination.

The vet just tightened the grip of her cupped hand at my back, gripping my shoulders, keeping me still as the metal drum of the cold stethoscope agonizingly made its way over my torso, back and forth in multiple trips, trying to identify my tiny heartbeat. The chill metal was making the skin of my belly crawl.

Then the stethoscope moved down so she could listen to my stomach.

Finally, the vet removed the instrument from my chest. Before I could sigh in relief she took a different tool from a drawer and we were onto the next text. It was a handheld scope with a camera, a funduscope. She tilted herself at me for the best line of sight, while her thumb and forefinger held my head still. After looking into my eyes and ears she explained:

“I’M GOING TO TAKE A PEEK DOWN YOUR THROAT. BUT IT’S SO TINY I’M GOING TO HAVE TO GET IN REAL CLOSE.”

My head was manoeuvred gently, tilted back until it was inclined at the ceiling. The doctor was bent over me, her massive face crowding out my view of anything else. Her eyebrows drew together slightly with concentration as she peered down my throat. Her giant head expanded as she leaned in even closer. She was so close her warm breath made the hair on my sack shiver.

My entire view consisted of her utterly magnified features. A monstrous lip, or nostril, or eye, shifted into vision, as she moved her head for a better view. Trickles of warm air poured between her faintly parted lips, beating like wings against my face. The warmed air also seeped down my throat, generating warm feeling inside my chest and stomach. Every one of her breaths surged with a mint onslaught from the gum she was chewing. The masticating gum was so loud and close it seemed to be squeaking and squishing inside my head. As the seconds ticked by, I was terrified it would fall out onto my face and get hopelessly stuck. Not the first time.

Then the scope was put aside. With just the strength in one rubber-gloved finger, she bent me back until my spine touched the table and I was staring at the ceiling. Suddenly my pants were being tugged off.

“SO WHAT HAVE YOU GOT HIDING FROM ME UNDER THERE.”

“No!” I said, pushing at the fingertip.

Another patient smile from the vet. She was bowing over me again.

“I’M JUST GOING TO HAVE A FEEL AROUND INSIDE OF YOU,” she explained. My clothes were whipped off and put aside. Lastly my briefs, the tiny red superman ones.

I lay back on the table cold and naked, feeling as tiny as a raisin.

One of her gloved fingers began to trace a line just under my neck, to my lower belly, and stopped hazardously close to my groin. Holding there a moment, it then repeated the action the other way. This time it paused in certain places. The tip stopped bluntly against my neck. Then it did the same to my ribcage.

After massaging my pectorals, the pressure dragged down along my chest once more, where it began working itself firmly against the soft flesh of my stomach. My abdominal wall offered no resistance against the persistent battering pressure of the vet’s inquisitive, oversized digit. It was so big, that meeting my hip it accidentally bumped my member. It did this a couple of times as it searched around in my stomach. Very soon, I had an erection straining at the ceiling.

“IT’S JUST ASTONISHING,” she marvelled out loud. “I’VE NEVER FELT SUCH A TINY ADULT LIVER. IT MUST BE SMALLER THAN A PEA. OF COURSE, IT’S BURIED VERY WELL IN THERE, BUT I CAN JUST MAKE IT OUT AGAINST THE VERY TIP OF MY FINGER.”

My breath was getting labored. The force working against my diaphragm was so diligent.

She bent her face closer. I swallowed hard and kept my eyes fixed on the ceiling. But the closer she got, the more of the ceiling she blocked out.

Unaware, she leaned in a little closer, angling her face straight down over me. Her big, slightly puffy lips parted a fraction. Her warm breath swept through my hair, tickling my ear, while filling my nose and mouth. It continued to beat at me in rhythmic gushes. The shiny creased vermillion bulges of her lips were so inadvertently close to my chin, like she was preparing to plant a kiss.

Sweat was on my brow, even though the air was cool. My penis was twitching helplessly. Her finger was still pinning me to the table, and moving very precisely around my torso. I began to squirm.

“YOU KEEP COMPLETELY STILL,” the vet murmured. Her acrid coffee breath steamed into my mouth, “AND IT WON’T HURT A SINGLE BIT. SEE?”

She started tapping around as part of a medical percussion, and listening to the sound of my abdomen.

This was slightly uncomfortable. I began to squirm. She responded by neatly plucking me up at the waist and began to tickle me all over. My stomach began to hurt. I hugged my chest, trying to protect myself. I was laughing softly, but it hurt, so I tried to stop. My ribs ached a little and I needed to pee.

Then I was flying down to the tabletop, and arranged so that I was looking straight up at her again. My groin punched up at the ceiling, and was now feeding me with a dull, constant ache.

Spying my manifest arousal, the vet caught my member in the rubber trap of a huge thumb and forefinger, and supplied it with a series of disciplinary squeezes, until I couldn’t take it much longer.

“WELL, HI THERE, MR TINKLY.” She was talking to my erection in a funny-sounding voice. “YOU’RE A VERY BIG BOY. YOU WANT ME TO EXAMINE YOU TOO?” She couldn’t help but give my glans another affectionate little nip, sending tingles bouncing through my rod until my knees were weak.

She ran her fingertip down my shaft, measuring the length against her straightened pointer. Then she took the tip and stretched it to assess the maximum length. Her fingertips grazed back and forth, tugging and adjusting my penis. Every tug caused sensation to surge through my body.

“WHAT A HAPPY LITTLE HUMMER,” she clucked through puckered lips. “YOU’RE JUST ASKING FOR A LITTLE TWEAK, AREN’T YOU, YES YES YES.” Her delicate touch kept adjusting, needing to view my organ along every angle, as closely as possible. Her thumb rolled under the tip and down the shaft, stretching me out. My balls quivered and strained.

“Will you quit it with this baby-talking business?” I said. “I just want a normal exam.”

She shut me up by giving my organ a couple of friendly pinches, and each time, the head of my penis ached tremendously. The sweat was prickling my brow. Without even trying she was taking my erection to the brink. I couldn’t bare it.

“Please…” I grunted, “I’m really…sensitive …”

“NOW DON’T YOU GET MAD. IT’LL MAKE YOUR HEART RACE. AND ALL THAT BLOOD RACING AROUND IS GOING TO MAKE YOUR LITTLE ROCKET OUTGROW YOU.”

She hooked her pointer around my waist, resting her fingertip on my groin, leaving it in a torturous upright position, and throbbing into the pad of her finger.

“THE CULPRIT FOR HIS CARDIAC DISTRESS HAS BEEN CAUGHT RED-HANDED,” she said cheerily to Jen, catching my glans and playing with it. “OR, SHOULD I SAY, RED-HEADED? THE SCOUNDREL WAS RIGHT HERE, ALL ALONG.” Her nail snuck beneath my shaft and waggled it. My head swooped and I desperately sucked in breath. “IT’S MAKING HIS HEART DO THE QUICKSTEP.”

Jen folded her arms, shifting her weight to one side. She scrutinized my boner and then looked at the vet again.

“YOU’RE SURE? – BUT, THE MEDICATION.”

“THIS RIGHT HERE,” she gave my member a firm prod, “IS THE ROOT OF ALL HIS EVIL.”

Jen raked a hand through her hair.

“SO HE HAS A LITTLE CONTROL PROBLEM. IT’S NOT HURTING ANYBODY.”

“EXCEPT HIM, POTENTIALLY.”

“BUT WHAT CAN HE DO ABOUT IT?”

“WELL, I HAVE A COUPLE OF IDEAS. WE CAN GET HIM ONTO A TABLET TO LIMIT ON HIS ERECTILE RESPONSE. NO MORE MORNING GLORY, BUT MAYBE JUST ENOUGH FOR A SLEEPY CUDDLE.”

“AND THE OTHER OPTION?” Jen sounded positively breathless now.

“A NON-INVASIVE PROCEDURE TO HAVE A LITTLE IMPLANT PUT IN—” the vet’s huge finger came in and poked my lower belly, “—HERE. KEEP HIS HEART IN CHECK BUT WITHOUT DOING A DISSERVICE TO HIS SEXUAL RESPONSE. I CAN DO IT TODAY IF YOU DON’T MIND WAITING OUT THE POST-OP BEAUTY SLEEP.”

Jen stashed her phone in her handbag.

“I’LL COME BACK,” she said slowly.

I sat up.

“What?!”

“IT COULD BE WORSE,” she urged. “WAY WORSE. HAVE THE OPERATION.”

“Jennifer.”

“WE CAN’T JUST LEAVE—”

“I don’t want it. And we are leaving.”

She stared me down.

“DON’T TELL ME YOU WANT TO TAKE THE TABLETS? –YOU KIDDING ME?! –SHE’S GOING TO GIVE YOU A SEDATIVE AND YOU WON’T FEEL A THI—”

“This was not agreed and you know that!”

“THIS IS THE RIGHT THING FOR YOU, BABE, FOR BOTH OF US, AND—!!!”

“Don’t ‘babe’ me. I’m not a ‘babe’, I’m a grown man! And– screw this!” I charged over the table.

“JERRY—!” But her reflexes faltered. She sounded guilty.

Damn straight you should feel guilty, I thought. It was outrageous. She was guardian, sure, not my damn—!

Oof.

I ran straight into the vet’s rubber coated fingertips. They adroitly pinched up my waist, leaving my feet kicking and batting at empty air.

Finally, I sagged, and said, “The meds made it worse. But I’m not taking them anymore.”

From the side, Jen said quietly:

“WE GET IT, JERRY. YOU’RE NOT TAKING THEM ANYMORE.”

Whereas the vet’s fascination had a comeback. I was laid flat on my back as the vet stretched me out straight. Then she stretched my dick out until it was excruciatingly taut. Even Jen was right in there, leaning over me. Both women were inspecting my groin. My face grew hot.

“HOW INCREDIBLE,” the vet enthused. My dick was tugged straight down, and then straight up so she could take a look at my balls. “LOOK AT THIS EXPANSION SINCE HE STARTED THE MEDICATION. LOOK AT ALL THAT NEW GIRTH. IT’S LIKE A LITTLE SODA POP CAN.” She massaged my shaft with circular motions of her thumb and forefinger, giving it a regular supply of pressure. It felt so good. Lucky I was lying down or I would have passed out. “THE PRESSURE IS JUST PHENOMENAL. AND THAT PICKLE IS TIGHT AS A KNOT.”

I let out a gasp.

The vet beamed at me.

“IF IT FEELS FUNNY,” she said, lapsing back into cooing. “IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE SO TINY! I BET EVERYTHING FEELS FUNNY TO YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE JUST A TINY LITTLE MAN! EVERYTHING IS SO, SO BIG TO YOU!”

I was tickled me again until my legs were kicking. The combination of tickling and arousal had me on the brink of a pure sensation seizure.

To my utter relief, the vet moved away to type something on the computer, as I lay back, and my exhausted abdomen muscles trembling in defeat. All my fight had evaporated. I couldn’t even think straight anymore.

I caught my breath.

“Your argument sucks,” I said as Jen drifted by the table edge, vaguely pacing, her arms folded.

“LET IT ALL OUT, BUDDY.”

“You are so stubborn. You are so conceited, and spoiled.”

“RIGHT. TOMLIN GIRL. ABSOLUTELY, TOTALLY, ONE HUNDRED PERCENT.”

I massaged my thighs and squeezed my toes, trying to push some blood out of my groin.

She swished around.

“THAT’S IT? YOU’RE NO FUN.”

I was reaching for an unanswerable retort when Jen suddenly lowered her head, eyes closed, and planted a kiss over my eyes. I inhaled deeply, before her warm, slick tongue traced from my brow to my lips, and trapping my air supply.

The vet finished on the pc.

“HE’S FINE,” Jen explained, standing back up. “NERVES. WE’RE GETTING IT DONE. TODAY.”

“THEN I’LL PREP THE ROOM. TWO HOURS AND HE SHOULD BE ALL READY FOR YOU AGAIN.”

Jen retreated to the doorway and tentatively blew me a kiss.

“LOVE YOU.”

The vet turned her back and there was the clinking of fine metal tools, the soft thfffirrrrrp of some electric device. My heart gave a painful buck.

The vet's big hands plucked up my tiny waist and turned me onto my front.

"JUST A TEENSY POKE TO MAKE YOU SOFT.”

A bee sting and then the strength leaked out of my body. The last thing I remembered was the overhead lights turning way up.

*

The clinic came back in brief, unjointed flashes.

My head felt clogged and spacey. My mouth was so dry it felt like it was wadded with cotton. All thoughts were blank and I was in no position to question anything that was happening.

As I wavered in and out of consciousness, the voices of two women quaked the air. Tall blurry shadows passed in front. The vet and my fiancée. Jennifer had left the clinic while I was being operated on, but she’d come back.

I focused on her, although her visage kept wavering. Her full figure was reassuring, big and mother-like. The mild tranq made me feel stupid and happy and at the center of her awareness, and lifted by a heart-skipping aphrodisiac. Out of nowhere I thought: I’m tinier now than on the first day of my life. I hadn’t been this tiny since being in my mom’s womb.

I laughed.

The vet’s chirpy voice filled up my head.

“MR CUPCAKE LOOKS READY TO COME OUT OF THE OVEN.”

She reached for me, and gave my nose a tweak. Then she was brushing my penis out of the way, and rolling my nuts between a forefinger and thumb.

“LOOK AT THESE DAINTY LITTLE GUYS. EVEN TEENSIER THAN MY LITTLE TOES. BUT FIRM AS A COUPLE OF BALL BEARINGS!”

The grainy burbling of her voice became clearer:

“I’VE GOT TO GIVE HIM A LITTLE MILKING BEFORE I CAN LET YOU TAKE HIM AWAY. BUT HE FEELS NICE AND FULL RIGHT NOW. JUST RIPE FOR A BIG COLLECTION.”

Oh no…I thought.

She came for me. There was nowhere to run. The giant rubber glove extended and her fingertips were grasping –

“WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT THIS BIG BOOFHEAD, HMMMM?”

Her grasp began to slide back and forth over my shaft. Her grasp closed around the bulb of my glans, rolling and thumbing it. Her touch was confident and unhurried.

“A WEE LITTLE SKITTLE LIKE YOU SHOULD ONLY HAVE A LITTLE TINKLY. WHY DO YOU HAVE SUCH A BIG BOOFY ONE, HUH? ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME SOMETHING? WHAT IS MR TINKLY TRYING TO TELL ME?”

She made an exaggerated show of considering my member, stretching it out and examining it from all angles, while stroking her chin, under the pretense of pondering my girth.

In no time at all I was swollen and tender, and yearning to ejaculate. I was being driven to the brink of insanity. My hips pumped against her hand, which kept the pressure at full throttle, tapping me for every last drop. My shaft was being caught and squeezed by her inside finger joints as her thumb circled and played with my glans. Her thumbprint skidded back and forth against the underside of the tip, alternating fast and slow.

She took me to the very edge of fulfilment and then wound me down, brushing her little finger back and forth against my balls to check they were still firm…Then her thumb was in motion again, circling my glans teasingly, faster and faster. Another pause, and she backed down again. I groaned, trembling with anticipation. Then her fingertips were riding the head of my penis, dancing over it lasciviously. The weight of her hand was like a normal size lover straddling my hips. My length was being teased between an increasingly narrowed slot created between her rubber fingertips, stretching me harder and harder.

The building pressure released all at once and she caught it in a specimen jar.

All the tension trickled out of my body like air out of a balloon. I lay back against the towel, drenched in sweat.

Next thing I knew I was safely enfolded between the firm walls of Jen’s thighs as she drove home. I was vibrating like a washing machine, and drooling. My attention span was two seconds long.

“—FEELIN’ OKAY?” she ventured. Her voice was fuzzy.

“Uh huh,” I said dopily. There was a bandage patched onto my stomach, but it didn’t hurt. The implant had been injected in, so at least there was no suture this time.