Prologue to Micro Exotic Inc

In the not-so-distant future, humanity grapples with the burgeoning problem of overpopulation. The world's resources are strained, and the tension among nations is palpable. In this bleak future, a radical solution has been proposed and implemented: shrinking technology.

This technology, initially developed for more benign purposes, is now tasked with the responsibility of alleviating the burden of an overcrowded world. Its targets, however, are not selected at random. Criminals, once the pariahs of society, are now the test subjects of this revolutionary technology. Once shrunk, these individuals find themselves stripped of their human rights. They are reduced to commodities, sold across the world for a multitude of purposes. Some become objects of amusement, serving as living dolls for their owners' entertainment, kept as exotic pets, a twisted form of ownership that further dehumanizes them. Some are made to fight, pitted against each other in brutal gladiatorial combat for the enjoyment of the masses, their lives reduced to a spectacle for larger onlookers.

The entertainment industry has been quick to capitalize on this new trend, creating unique shows and acts that spotlight the shrunken performers. This has led to a bizarre phenomenon where these individuals, stripped of their normal lives, are paraded on stage for the amusement of others. The impact of shrinking technology is also evident in the job market. Jobs that once required standard-sized individuals have now been adapted for the shrunken workforce. They handle intricate tasks on a much smaller scale, making them an essential part of various sectors such as electronics, medicine, and even art.

And then there are the unfortunate ones who are used to satisfy the more perverse desires of society, their dignity discarded along with their size. This is a world where justice is not just blind, but shrunken, commodified, and sold to the highest bidder.

However, the exploitation of these shrunken individuals isn't limited to mainstream industries. There exists a darker, more insidious industry that caters to fetish content. This unsettling development further emphasizes the dystopian nature of this new reality, raising questions about the ethics and morality of such practices.

Chapter 1: Micro Exotic Inc

In the heart of the city, surrounded by towering skyscrapers and blinking neon signs, stood a building that was as nondescript as it was notorious. This was the headquarters of Micro Exotic Inc., a company that had built its fortune on the perverse sale of shrunken individuals.

Micro Exotic Inc. was known for the wide array of 'products' it offered. The company boasted a diverse collection of shrunken humans, ranging anywhere from 3 to 12 inches tall. Each individual was meticulously cataloged by height, age, ethnicity, and other distinguishing characteristics, transforming them into consumable objects rather than humans.

The clientele of Micro Exotic Inc. had particular tastes. Some preferred their purchases to be obedient and submissive, broken through a rigorous process of conditioning and training. These shrunken individuals were stripped of their resistance, their spirits crushed under the weight of their new reality.

Others, however, savored a challenge. They relished the thrill of owning a defiant slave, one who would fight and resist. For these customers, the untrained shrunken individuals were the perfect purchase. The company capitalized on this demand, ensuring they had a steady supply of these 'wild' commodities.

While the outside world might have been oblivious to the horrors that lurked behind the nondescript facade of the Micro Exotic Inc. building, the shrunken individuals trapped within its walls were acutely aware of their grim fate. They lived in constant fear, their lives dictated by the whims of their captors and the perverse desires of the customers who would eventually purchase them.

As the sun set on another day in the dystopian world, the lights in the Micro Exotic Inc. building remained on. Within its walls, the business of selling shrunken humans carried on, the demand for their merchandise as relentless as the despair that plagued their 'products'.

Andrew awoke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. He was laying on a medical table, the cold metal chilling against his naked body. The room was white, sterile, and devoid of any personal touches. It seemed to echo with an eeriness that sent shivers down his spine. His head throbbed, and his mind was a fog of disjointed memories, each one slipping through his grasp just as he tried to hold onto it.

He looked down, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of his own body. He was naked, his skin smooth and hairless like that of a newborn. He lifted a hand, watching in silent horror as it shook, the fingers tiny and delicate. He was small, smaller than he'd ever been, his body shrunken to a fraction of its former size.

Memories began to return to him in flashes. The drunk driving accident. The guilt of having taken a life. The court's sentence. He had been deemed a criminal, his crime severe enough to warrant this grotesque punishment.

Fear surged through him, cold and paralyzing. He was now part of an underworld he had only heard of in hushed whispers. He had become a commodity, his humanity stripped away along with his size. His future was uncertain, his fate in the hands of others. This was his new reality, a nightmarish existence in a world where justice had been shrunken, commodified, and sold to the highest bidder.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the creaking sound of a door opening. Andrew's eyes darted towards the noise, a stark white door that he hadn't noticed before, now gradually revealing the world beyond his glass confinement. His heart pounded in his miniature chest, each beat echoing loudly in the silence of his sterile prison.

He tried to shift his position on the cold medical table, but found that he was immobilized. Looking down, he realized with a sinking feeling that he was strapped in from the waist, the restraints feeling monstrous and unyielding against his diminutive form.

As the door swung open, a woman stepped into the room. She was dressed in a white lab coat, her blond hair pulled back into a tight bun. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and a clipboard was held firmly in her hand. A feeling of dread washed over Andrew as he watched her approach, the sound of her footsteps unnaturally loud in the sterile quiet of the room.

His senses seemed to be heightened, the noises amplified and the sensations intensified. The sound of her lab coat rustling as she moved, the soft clicking of her heels against the tile floor, the faint scent of her perfume filling the room through the breathing holes provided in his glass prison- all these details were starkly pronounced, a cruel reminder of his diminished size. As she neared, the sounds grew louder, each footstep reverberating through the room and shaking him to his very core.

The woman reached the table where Andrew was confined, her size dominating his field of vision. She leaned over, her giant form casting an enormous shadow over him, further accentuating his minuscule size. The overhead lights glinted off her glasses as she tilted her head, adjusting them to get a better look at him. Her shadow felt like a cold shroud, a stark reminder of his new reality.

She reached for the top of his glass prison, her fingers appearing colossal from his perspective. As she lifted it, a rush of cooler air swept over him, causing him to shiver. He was now fully exposed to her, the safety of his glass prison stripped away.

She scrutinized him, her blue eyes magnified behind her glasses. He could see himself reflected in them, a tiny figure bound and helpless. The sight sent a wave of despair through him. This was his life now. He was a shrunken man, a toy at the mercy of this giant woman.

The giantess reached into the glass box, her colossal hand slowly extending towards Andrew. His heart pounded in his chest as her fingers, each the size of his entire body, gently clasped around the miniature medical bed he lay on. He could feel the warmth of her skin, the gentle pulse of her heartbeat resonating through her fingertips. Despite the terror coursing through him, he couldn't ignore the tender care with which she handled him.

With a gentle tug, she lifted Andrew and the bed free from the confinement of the glass box. The sudden movement made him feel dizzy, and he could do nothing but watch in wide-eyed horror as the world around him shifted dramatically. He was now at the mercy of this giantess, his tiny size rendering him utterly helpless.

She placed him and the table to the side and Andrew could see her towering form from his peripheral vision, a constant reminder of his new, terrifying reality.

The giantess then reached for a tape measure, its length unfurling with a sharp snap that echoed in the sterile room. She stretched it out over Andrew's diminutive form, starting from his head and moving down to his feet. He couldn't help but squirm at the touch of the cold, metallic tape against his naked flesh.

Despite his struggles, the giantess was meticulous in her measurements. She scribbled down the results on her clipboard, her pencil scratching against the paper a harsh reminder of his current predicament. The numbers confirmed what he already knew - he was at least six inches tall.

Throughout this entire procedure, Andrew screamed. His voice echoed in the sterile room, his pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears. He tugged at the restraints, his minuscule strength proving useless against the monstrous binds.

Yet, the giantess didn't even acknowledge his efforts. She continued her work with a detached professionalism, her gaze focused solely on the task at hand. Her lack of reaction was more terrifying than any words she could have spoken, a chilling reminder of his new place in the world - a world where he was no longer a man, but a shrunken commodity.

The giantess then began to unstrap Andrew from the medical table, her hands deftly working the buckles and straps that held him in place. As she leaned over him, Andrew could feel her heavy breathing wash over him, the warmth of her breath stark against his naked body. Each breath was a pulse of fear, a physical embodiment of his impending doom.

Once freed, Andrew immediately tried to flee, his tiny legs carrying him as fast as they could across the cold, metal surface of the table. But his efforts were futile. Before he could even get far, the giantess easily caught him in her much larger hand, her fingers wrapping around him in a tight but gentle grip. Despite his struggles, she held him still, her strength undeniable.

Eventually, Andrew's struggles began to wane, his strength depleted against the unyielding hold of the giantess. As he lay exhausted in her palm, he looked up to see her smiling down at him. There was amusement in her eyes, a silent laughter that echoed in the sterile room. "None of that," she said, her voice strong yet soothing, resonating through his tiny body with a power he could never hope to match.

With a swift but gentle movement, she lifted him back into the air. The sensation of being moved so quickly and effortlessly was dizzying, but the giantess's grip remained firm yet gentle, a reminder of her control. She then gently placed him back into the glass prison he had just been taken out of, enclosing him once again in its confining walls. The sight of the transparent walls closing in around him was a frightening reminder of his new reality, one where he was no longer a man but a shrunken object.

With a desperate surge of energy, Andrew managed to push himself to his knees. He begged upwards towards the giant woman, pleading with her to restore him or at least spare his life. His voice echoed off the glass walls of his prison, filled with a desperation that only those who have tasted true fear could understand.

The giantess only sighed, shaking her head with an amused smile. "Oh, you all say the same thing," she said, her voice almost a whisper. She had done this hundreds of times before, and the act had become routine. To her, Andrew was no different from the countless others she had shrunk down and sold.

She turned away from him, her heels clicking against the tile floor as she collected a camera that was placed away to the side. Andrew watched her from his prison, his hope dwindling as she returned with the camera. He realized with a sinking feeling that his humiliation was far from over.

With a swift click, the camera came to life, its flash illuminating the sterile room. Andrew instinctively shielded his nakedness, his face flushing with shame. He protested, crying out at his treatment, but it fell on deaf ears. The giantess continued to snap pictures, her only response a soft chuckle as she captured his vulnerability for all to see.

After several long minutes, the giantess finally finished collecting her pictures. With a final click, she turned off the camera and set it aside. Andrew watched as she moved about the room, her movements echoing loudly in the sterile room due to his enhanced senses.

As she moved further away, the sounds began to fade, growing quieter with each step. Finally, she reached the door. With a soft creak, she opened it and stepped out into the hall, leaving Andrew alone in the room.

However, he could still hear her. Even through the closed door, he could hear the muffled sounds of her talking to someone else - a man, judging by the deepness of the voice. He strained his ears to catch their conversation, his heart pounding as he made out the words.

"He's six inches," the giantess was saying. "In good health, quite fearful... He's suitable for online purchase."

Shock coursed through Andrew. He was going to be sold online? To some stranger? The thought sent a wave of despair crashing over him. He was going to be shipped out soon, handed over to a new owner like some kind of toy.

Andrew's mind spun in disbelief, a cold wave of panic washing over him. He was reduced to an object, a commodity to be purchased by a faceless stranger on the internet. His heart pounded in his tiny chest, a frantic rhythm echoing in the glass confines of his prison. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, each inhale a desperate attempt to quell the rising panic.

He screamed, his voice bouncing off the glass walls in a shrill echo. His pleas for mercy, his cries for help, were absorbed by the sterile white room, unheard by anyone but himself. He flung himself against the glass walls of his prison, his tiny fists banging uselessly against the transparent barrier. The sound of his struggles echoed through the room, a haunting testament to his despair.

His tiny body was wracked with sobs, each one shaking him to his core. His tears flowed freely, rolling down his cheeks and splattering against the glass floor of his prison. He cried out, his voice breaking with the sheer intensity of his despair. The sound was raw, a primal expression of his terror and helplessness.

Despite his efforts, his prison remained unyielding, the glass walls cold and impassive against his heated onslaught. His cries echoed in the empty room, a stark reminder of his isolation and despair. He was alone, unheard, a tiny figure lost in a world that had stripped him of everything and reduced him to a commodity. His existence, once filled with promise and potential, was now confined to this glass box, his life reduced to a series of measurements and photographs.

His energy waned, his struggles growing weaker with each passing moment. Yet, his screams continued, a haunting soundtrack to his dismal reality.

Suddenly, Andrew heard the sound of the door creaking open again. The noise was accompanied by the ominous thud of heavy footsteps echoing around the sterile room. His heart pounded in his tiny chest as he felt the vibrations of each step, the size difference between him and the giantess making her movements feel like earth-shaking tremors.

This time when the giantess entered, her face was hidden behind a gas mask. The familiar sight of her glasses and her calm, scrutinizing gaze was replaced by the cold, impersonal visage of the mask. It completely obscured her features, transforming her into an even more terrifying figure.

In her hand, she held not a clipboard but a gas canister. A chill ran down Andrew's spine as he recognized the object. He knew what was coming next, and the knowledge filled him with terror.

Andrew began to sob uncontrollably as the giantess approached. He pleaded with her, his words a desperate jumble of fear and despair. But the gas mask muffled any sound she might have made, leaving him in a terrifying silence punctuated only by his own panicked cries.

He watched in horror as the giantess lifted the lid of his glass box. She reached in with the gas canister, her movements slow and deliberate. Andrew cringed away from the sight, his tiny body shaking uncontrollably with fear.

With a firm press of her index finger, the giantess released the contents of the gas canister. A green gas began to fill Andrew's glass prison, its color a stark contrast against the sterile whiteness of his surroundings.

As the gas enveloped him, Andrew felt his senses start to dull. His cries for help became weaker, his body growing heavy and lethargic. He could only watch helplessly as his world began to fade, the gas clouding his vision and dulling his senses.

The last thing he remembered was the sight of the giantess standing over him, her figure obscured by the green gas. Then darkness overtook him, and he knew no more.