Oakley woke up early Christmas morning, she always had. It was by far her favorite holiday and that didn’t change even though she now lived a thousand miles from home. She’d done everything possible to make the small apartment she shared with her boyfriend Brandon as decorated as her family home would have been.

Brandon, her boyfriend of two years, liked the holiday too but without her presence wouldn’t have even invested in a small tree. This didn’t bother her, she knew she went overboard this time of year, but it also didn’t bother him. He helped her set up the tree, garland, and dozens of tiny plastic snowflakes all around their apartment. It was very nice all around and he had no issue admitting it was an improvement over his minimalist style.

She walked into the living room and smiled at the tree.

He was a thousand miles from home too. They’d lived together for about a year and dated for a year prior to that after meeting in college. Her family had been nervous about them moving in together but so far everything had been excellent and everything she hoped for. Secretly she hoped he was getting ready to propose but knew neither of them were in a hurry.

The light came on behind her as Brandon followed her out of the bedroom. He liked to sleep later than she did but knew how important this day was to her.

“Morning sunshine,” he said as he came up behind her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

He was a little taller than she, with a shaved bald head and a body that clearly stated he used to work out more often. Oakley had shoulder length brown hair and had more time to hit the gym between her nursing classes than he did. With any luck Brandon would get his Master’s degree in the two semesters and resume his own workout routine.

“Hey you,” she said, leaning back into him for a hug, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas babe.”

With that said Brandon shuffled into their small kitchen. He started coffee and turned on the oven to bake the cinnamon rolls they’d premade the night before.

Oakley turned on the lights in the living room and gasped in mock surprise.

“Santa came last night!”

Under the tree were five presents, three wrapped very nicely and two apparently wrapped by a blind raccoon. When she’d gone to bed there had only been three; two for her and one for him from her.

“Oh, lucky us!” Brandon replied. He knew that she knew it wasn’t really a jolly man in a red suit that brought the new presents last night, but it was fun to play along. He’d really done his best to wrap them nicely but he just didn’t have the touch. The better ‘Santa’ presents he’d paid a table at the mall to wrap nicely.

Oakley’s heart melted just a little more for her man. He must have gotten up in the middle of the night to put those under the tree. Not to mention he’d managed to wrap and hide them in secret, which for him took a surprising amount of effort.

While Brandon worked on breakfast in the kitchen Oakley looked at her Christmas tree. It was two years old but she’d brought numerous ornaments and baubles to decorate it from home, some from when she was a child.

Leaning forward she got a closer look.

On the lowest level of the tree, where they wouldn’t break if they fell, were numerous clear plastic spheres. They were dusted with green, silver, and gold sparkles and filled on the inside with fake snow and a tiny. At their base hung several small bells.

When she leaned her head forward the tinies all started moving rapidly. At an inch tall there wasn’t much room for them to move but they could shake their festive prisons and the bells hanging from the bottom. Their movements kicked up the ‘snow’ that surrounded them and made a magical scene.

She smiled from the sound and imagining what it would be like inside her ornaments. Not for herself, of course, but how horrible it must be for those trapped within.

When she’d bought these with saved up allowance money a decade ago the saleswoman had assured her being inside the globes wasn’t just humiliating to the holiday prisoners, but painful. The fake snow within didn’t just give it an adorable decoration, they were actually tiny caltrops and pointed on each side. Guaranteed to never dull.

Each tiny within was a redhead, apparently sourced from Ireland, where tiny harvesting was technically illegal but actually encouraged.

Oakley tapped the side of one and knocked the little woman to her back. She giggled and looked higher.

Attached to several small cutout shapes of stars, candy canes, and a tiny Christmas train were more tinies. Most were small, particularly the eight that were in the fake toy train. Over the years two had been lost and at an eighth of an inch tall they were impossible to find in carpet. Special tiny-glue held them in place by their feet but it didn’t last forever. This didn’t stop them from wriggling almost constantly which Oakley found adorable.

“You know if you listen closely you can hear them yelling,” Brandon said, smacking her butt and handing her a cup of coffee.

She took the steaming hot cup and sighed with satisfaction. She’d listened to it for hours as a child.

“I know,” she told him before taking a careful sip. Faint screaming from below made her almost cross her eyes to get a glance and she saw a half-inch tall brunette struggling to stay afloat in the near boiling liquid. Oakley licked her lips at the flood of holiday flavor she tasted. “Peppermint, nice!”

The store only sold her favorite coffee creamer at this time of year and Brandon had picked it up special for her.

Oakley looked back at the tree without giving the tiny in her cup any thought. It was nice and she loved Brandon for the gesture; he really was thinking of her all the time. But the tiny didn’t add any flavor to her coffee, just the pleasant knowledge that someone was suffering and would die for her to have a slightly better cup of coffee.

Brandon went back into the kitchen as the oven made its happy noise, signaling it was preheated.

Their tree was only four feet tall and Oakley made a mental note to go bigger next year if they could. She’d wrapped it in simple garland, bright green around the bottom and a second length of shiny silver higher up. The green was older and pretty basic. The silver she’d gotten last year and every several inches an eighth-inch tiny was sewn into the fabric. Every time they moved it seemed like wind was rustling the décor and gave the tree a nice sense of movement.

At the highest levels, just below the star, were the three ornaments Brandon had contributed. He wasn’t a Christmas superfan like Oakley, but what he’d brought was very nice. Three different tinies roughly three inches tall hung from the arms of the tree by a length of golden twine wrapped around their chests. They were dressed as Santa and two elves.

She assumed some kind of glue held the actual outfits on as the tinies were always trying unsuccessfully to take them off.

Maybe there’s a wire in the back? she wondered, tapping on the faux Santa. His movements were jerky and unnatural as he tried to get away from her finger. When he tried to reach any part of his outfit it seemed to take great effort and he wasn’t quite able to get there. The same for the elves.

But just like she had as a small child she kept herself from dismantling the ornaments. If she did find out the secret of how these tinies didn’t just free themselves, then she’d still be losing that sense of wonder and the ornament itself would essentially be gone. Brandon knew the secret was a wire, he hadn’t held back as a child, but he let Oakley keep wondering.

Standing, she listened carefully. There was faint noise, faint yelling, and the sound of the oven door closing. Just like how she remembered the holidays as a child.

Sipping her coffee she enjoyed the sound of endless torture floating just inches above their presents. It never occurred to her that the only difference between herself and two of her ornaments was timing – while meeting Santa one year the cosplayer (though she didn’t know that at the time) had shrunk down the two children in front of her and given them to her as a gift. If she’d arrived thirty seconds earlier it would have been her eternally mounted on someone else’s holiday decoration.

Of course, there was one decoration that didn’t make noise.

I get it, Oakley thought, looking at the star. The sound from her would get super annoying.

On top of the tree was her pride and joy, the star she’d made when she was thirteen. At school they’d made simple old fashioned stars as art projects, but without tinies since her school’s budget didn’t accommodate that quality of materials. That didn’t stop her art teacher from showing them how to make a basic wire frame that would hold a six or seven inch tiny in an arms-and-legs-spread position for decades.

Oakley smiled at the memory. That teacher had been great.

Her star could only look at her in terror and, Oakley assumed, agony.

The blonde had a beautiful hairdo which had taken Oakley several hours to do back when she’d made the star. At that size it was very difficult to do any weaving, especially when the subject was rudely moving and yelling the entire time. Her body was covered in bright paint stripes that Oakley reapplied every couple of years, and her hands filled with LED lights that pulsed gently. Her feet were too, spread eagle in a near-splits that the tiny had tolerated very poorly at first.

Probably still hates, Oakley thought.

But she knew if the star wasn’t full spread eagle like she was then Oakley never would be able to force several inches of fake tree branch directly up her tiny snatch to hold her on the top of the tree.

“You’re so pretty,” she told the star with genuine inflection.

There was no response, but not for lack of trying. The blonde’s mouth was filled with gold colored glue-stick material that Oakley had procured for that exact purpose after her family’s first Christmas with her homemade star. At first the constant screaming had been pleasant to hear and easy to stop with a simple washcloth tossed over the tiny’s face while they watched movies in the living room. But it had been easier to just stop it entirely by pushing her arts and crafts hot glue gun into the blonde’s mouth and pushing colored glue down her gullet until it came out both ends.

“Breakfast in five,” Brandon said, coming up behind her again.

Oakley leaned back on him and relaxed against his chest. He really was a wonderful guy.

“That was your cousin or something, right?” he asked, pointing at the star.

Oakley rolled her eyes. He always forgot and this was the third time he’d asked her this year alone.

“Neighbor girl,” she corrected, “She used to babysit me.”

“Right, right,” he said, remembering the story with a smile. “She shrunk while you were playing house, right?”

She nodded and the Christmas star wiggled just a little on top of the tree. The girl who had been seventeen when she shrank was still pretty sensitive about it. Or maybe it was about the length of tree pushed into her abdomen purely to hold her still as a decoration. There was a slight bulge all the way up and under her ribcage.

“Taught me how to finger myself,” she said with a smile at the fond memory.

The real story was slightly different; she’d been clearly too old to be babysat at the time and had merely seen the slightly old girl playing with herself on the couch when she was supposed to be asleep already. When she saw the blonde shrink down she’d sat in the same spot on the couch and replicated the girl’s movements on herself. At first with her fingers while holding the newly-shrunken teen, then when it was obvious what was happening she used the teenager too.

She’d kept her in her underwear, and underwear drawer, for several weeks. Her parents were very aware and used her themselves, but she hadn’t found that out until they’d laughed about it last year. The poor tiny had been the entire family’s sex toy for weeks, though Oakley hadn’t known that at the time. She’d only made her the Christmas star after her art teacher had helped them make little wire frames and given her entire class the idea.

“I tried putting the tree up her butt one time,” Oakley admitted with a giggle, “It took awhile but I actually got it to come out her mouth. This was at very first, before I filled her with glue.”

“That’s awesome,” Brandon replied, going back to check into the kitchen to check on breakfast. He didn’t attempt to hide his erection in his sweatpants. Talking about tiny torture always worked for him.

After admiring her tree a little longer Oakley went into the kitchen and helped out. The pair enjoyed breakfast with background Christmas music. It was a classic holiday morning; cinnamon rolls and the promise of gifts in the next room.

Her eagerness was obvious and there were two rolls left in the pan when Brandon went into the living room and grabbed one of her presents from under the tree. The one he knew she’d really love.

“Here, go ahead-” he started to say.

“AhhhhH!” Oakley squealed, taking the small box from his hands.

She’d been almost shaking with excitement since she saw the medium sized present under the tree last week. Guesses had abounded but she’d restrained herself from picking it up and doing the child’s shake test.

“I gotta guess,” she said, and Brandon nodded, refilling his coffee. His own stirring tiny had a moment’s reprieve as he doused her with cream then again with hot coffee.

He knew how hard it had been to hold back from guessing.

She held the box in her hands and eyed it carefully, ignoring the inexpertly wrapped red paper and envisioning the box within.

Or from the weight of it, boxes.

“Box in a box?” she guessed, smiling with satisfaction at Brandon’s surprised face.

“Now how-”

She shook it slightly, then tilted it one way and another. Ran her hand across the top and bottom, feeling for common shapes.

“Box one is a tissue box…” she mumbled, and Brandon looked on in mock amazement. He’d known she would guess it.

“...inside one is much smaller…”

She shook it again.

“Tissue paper keeping it from sliding too much…”

She gasped.

“You didn’t!”

Brandon could only smile and pretend to not know what she meant.

“Of course I didn’t, they were sold out at the store and all…”

Oakley squealed in delight again and tore off the wrapping paper.

Her guess was right, the outer box was meant to deceive about the size of the gift and was a simple rectangular tissue box. Folded up pieces of tissue filled the gaps around a small jewelry box with a light blue pattern and ‘Kapur Jewelers’ written on it in gold.

“You didn’t!” she repeated, fishing the smaller box out and turning it over in her hands.

“It was the last one, really,” Brandon said with a smile, abandoning his pretending.

Oakley opened the box carefully, turning it over to make sure it was right side up. It opened on a hinge smoothly and it held itself open at a little past ninety degrees.

Inside were the two nicest earrings she’d ever laid eyes on.

Two small circles of twisted together gold and silver lay on a fine black cloth, a simple pattern exceedingly well done.

Within the circles, feet together but arms spread wide, was one naked tiny each in an artistic letter T formation. They were blondes at the time of their shrinking and apparently had been very athletic. Their hands and feet were encased in the woven together precious metals, artfully woven into the jewelry as artwork themselves.

Oakley knew from meticulous and near-obsessive internet research that the tiny’s hands were semi-crushed into the weave in a way that was completely inescapable. And thanks to the Kapur company’s proprietary formulae the tiny wasn’t damaged. Technically.

The girls screamed upward at their new owner, their months-long stint in the darkness of packaging ended by Christmas lights and a horrifyingly perky woman.

“Brandon!” she squealed, jumping toward her boyfriend and giving him a hug. “They’re beautiful!”

He laughed and spilled some of his coffee but he didn’t mind. He was just happy it made her as happy as it did. She was hard to shop for.

When she broke the hug she ran into the bathroom to put on her new jewelry

Brandon smiled at her happy sounds when she returned, shaking her head side to side and making her jewelry faintly scream from the motion.

“I think you beat me this year,” she admitted, thrilled she’d gotten her dream bling but now thinking about how her gift couldn’t exactly compete.

“It’s not a competition,” he told her, giving her a kiss on the head. He heard the jewelry yelling and smiled at the sound. “But yeah maybe I did this time.”

It turned out that Christmas they both felt they’d given pretty even gifts. His jewelry offset his other gift, which was a simple giftcard to Tiny Hut, but was financially understandable.

She had gotten him three, and while none of they were as expensive as her jewelry Oakley knew Brandon was a very practical man and would get plenty of use out of them.

A simple home tool set and a new pair of shoes.

And, she was embarrassed to admit, a pocket pussy that was lined with extremely small tinies. The salesman had told her it would feel like a massage, and she’d put a finger up the toy and had to agree. While she much preferred he be buried in her, she knew her studies kept her very busy and the thought that hundreds of people had lost their lives to be built into the walls of a sex toy just for her boyfriend made her smile.

When someone’s that important to you….she thought as she stroked him with it just before lunchtime while loving the sound of her new jewelry's screaming.

That’s what Christmas is all about, Brandon thought, tapping Oakley’s earrings and making the tiny shake. She stroked him a little faster and the crowd within his new toy felt amazing.

Five minutes later she pulled the toy off him and made sure he finished inside her mouth.

“Christmas is awesome,” he groaned when she pulled her mouth off of him.

“Merry Christmas Brandon,” she agreed with a smile, licking her lips.

 *******ALTERNATE ENDING 1*********

Oakley licked her lips clean of Brandon’s seed. Thanks to her good cooking he had a very healthy diet and she never minded how he tasted.

“Hot chocolate?” she asked him, standing.

“Heck yeah,” he replied. Then paused. And a confused look came across his face, then realization. “No! Wait!”

Oakley watched as her boyfriend rapidly dwindled right before her eyes.

A totally random shrinky, on Christmas??? she thought. It’s a miracle!

Brandon certainly didn’t think so. He screamed in terror as he dropped to two inches tall in less than ten seconds. Before he could even fully grasp the gravity of his situation it was all over and he was standing in what had been the neck hole of his shirt, but was now a giant pit that he easily fit through.

He looked up at Oakley. His girlfriend of two years, who moments ago had sucked him to completion. Who he had been thinking about proposing to. Who he had just given earrings worth a month’s salary just to see her smile.

And he realized that as soon as he’d started to change he’d stopped being her boyfriend in her eyes.

“Oh my god!” she squealed, looking down at Brandon. “This is amazing!”

“No! Not amazing!” he yelled, tripping as he tried to escape his clothing prison. If he ran fast enough maybe he could hide under the oven until she had to go back to work in a week.

“A new ornament!” she said with a smile, ecstatic. Casually she picked up Brandon’s form as he tried running away. “You’re gonna light up my tree for years!”

Twenty minutes later Brandon was still trying to scream.

Oakley had learned her lesson after making her Christmas Tree Star all those years ago. With the hopes of getting more shrinkies to decorate her tree she had picked up several more wire frames of varying sizes, never sure of what she’d get when the day did come.

Brandon was held by hot glue, which was more than strong enough to hold him tightly forever, on a wire frame that held him in a spread-eagle position. Naked except for a Santa hat and small fake presents that had also been melted onto his hands. He’d fought for all he was worth but Oakley was simply too experienced and happy to have a new tiny to mold into a decoration. He’d had no real chance.

The worst had been when she’d tilted his head back and forced him to open his mouth. Or it had been the worst, until he realized she had carefully only shoved enough glue down his mouth to completely block his airway, but not fill up his torso.

“Here,” she said with a smile as she held up a small trio of spherical bells, “Relax for a moment, please. You’re going to look so cute!”

Brandon didn’t relax at all, but Oakley didn’t even notice. She easily pushed the first bell directly up his anal sphincter. It didn’t want to accept it, but had no choice. His abdomen bulged outward in an attempt to make room. He wished upon a Christmas star that this would end him, but knew there was no hope. It took far more damage than this to actually end a tiny.

When Oakley hung him on the tree she stepped back with a gleeful smile.

“Amazing! Lovely! I love adding new tinies to my tree!”

Brandon struggled and tried to scream again, but only managed to make the two bells still hanging out of his body ring as he shook them. The one inside him rang too, but it was inaudible.

Oakley let out a thrilled laugh and sighed in satisfaction.

“What a wonderful Christmas gift,” she said to no one in particular.

After all, she was the only person in the apartment now.

******ALTERNATE ENDING 2********

“Christmas is awesome,” he groaned when she pulled her mouth off of him.

“Merry Christmas Brandon,” she agreed with a smile, licking her lips.

One of his favorite things about her, aside from her boundless enthusiasm, was her love for oral. Their sex life had been amazing through their entire relationship. He felt bad he didn’t return the favor as often as she went down on him, but she claimed to be just as happy giving as receiving.

“Hot chocolate?” she asked, standing up and walking to the kitchen.

“Absolut….lutely….” Brandon said, watching her clothes fall off as she walked.

Or not so much her clothing falling off. More along the lines of her clothes were suddenly too big. And she was too small.

Oakley didn’t have time to even make a surprised sound. She felt her clothes start hanging on her, saw the oven rapidly get taller, and barely processed what was happening before she was digging her way out of her pile of clothing.

“This really is a great Christmas,” Brandon said, approaching the empty pile of clothes. He kicked he shirt aside and smiled at the tiny thong tucked into the sweatpants that it revealed. Plus the one-inch tall tiny that was looking around confused on what used to be the crotch of her panties.

He knelt down and picked up the tiny with a smile.

“I haven’t gotten a random in months.”

Oakley panicked when she saw the look on her boyfriend’s face. It wasn’t recognition, it wasn’t love, it wasn’t fondness for someone who frequently swallowed his load.

It was the face of a man looking at a new toy. And she knew what he liked to do with his tinies. Heck, she often helped him along the way.

“Gonna feel great with my new pocket pussy,” he said.

Brandon smiled, feeling the tiny squirm in his fingertips. She was going to be quite active.

Still smiling he pushed the tiny into his new toy. It was still warm from Oakley stroking him with it, and still well lubricated as well. His finger couldn’t push the tiny all the way in but he did his best.

Looking at his still-spent cock, Brandon shrugged. He knew it would be at least fifteen minutes before he could get hard again.

“Hot chocolate sounds good,” he said aloud as he sat the toy down and walked into the kitchen.

Half an hour later Brandon was buried in his new pocket pussy again. The sides, lined with incredibly small tinies, were massaging him slowly toward orgasm with their panicked movements. He didn’t even need to stroke with it, just keeping himself seated all the way caused his cock to vibrate incredibly.

Not to mention the new tiny that was vibrating at his cockhead, larger than the rest but almost as effective as a hot tongue.

“Good gift Oakley,” he said, leaning back on the couch while his favorite Christmas movie played.

Oakley screamed as she struggled against her boyfriend’s cock, but there was no where to go between his skin and the toy she’d bought for him. Even the walls behind her squirmed and pushed her tighter against his rod. Precum leaked onto her, mixed with her favorite strawberry flavored lubricant.

Neither tasted the same at her current size. But over the years that followed she got far more of both than she could have imagined.