With a thousand enraged comebacks itching to be fired off, Scott refrained from using any of them. Instead he bit his lip and began casually popping his knuckles, avoiding his monumental younger sister’s imperious gaze. He could feel the cold sweat on his neck already.
This stoicism became more difficult to maintain, though, as Scott felt his sister’s hand rising higher and higher until he could feel the steaming exhalations from her nostrils billowing down onto his naked shoulders and back with each breath.
“What’s it gonna be, little boy? Are you going to be good and dress up as a princess for big sissy?” Maggie uttered under her breath. “Or are you just going to keep being naked in my hand?”
“I…” Scott mumbled, and biting his lip, realized the only way to extinguish his sister’s joy in the game was not to play at all. “I don’t care.”
Maggie flinched again, but continued sternly glowering down at the tiny life in her palm. “You mean… you don’t want a choice?”
“No,” Scott answered simply.
In being honest with himself, he really didn’t give much of a shit. He had already hit rock bottom plenty hard enough, and the sun was barely up. Whether he was nude or in a bright pink doll dress, he was going to have the enraptured cackling of Maggie’s friends ringing resonantly through his nightmares for a while. There was no getting around that. In fact, with some bitterness, he guessed the doll clothes would make it even worse. At least with nothing on, he could just stew in the same judgmental misery he almost always did while at this size.
“Fine with me,” Maggie said, crumpling at the pink dress in her fingertips around the tiny cloth waist. “I’ll just choose what my little doll is going to wear to play later.” With a soft shredding crunch, the dress came undone, and Scott realized the upper part of the outfit was held to the long skirt by Velcro. Cupping the upper part of the dress in her other palm, Maggie discarded the lower section of the pink cloth onto the floor, until only the top half remained.
Oh, no.
Shit no.
Scott’s heart raced wildly, and he felt himself practically retching from anxiety.
Maggie could see her brother’s day darkening by the second, and it filled her with gleeful rapture that positively glowed from her every pore. The power trip surging through her was more potent than any quintuple espresso could hope to match, and she could barely manage to hold still from the simmering thrill she was experiencing in the tiny, breathing body lying in the palm of her hand. Not wanting to let her living doll feel relaxed for even a moment, though, she refrained from displaying her happiness.
“Now raise your arms up, little one,” she instructed. “We’re playing dress-up now.”
Scott was about ready to burst into tears, but he knew refusing to obey his sister would only end with him dangling upside down as he was lowered down into the costume by a single ankle, and that was if he was lucky. He hung his head in defeat and held his arms in the air like a mini marionette.
A moment later, he felt the itchy ruffles of the dress pushing down around him, flattening him into his sister’s palm. Realizing the difficulty of the task, he could feel Maggie’s fingers curling around his back and squeezing around his thighs and butt far more aggressively than before, inching him through the arm holes until the top of the dress was on, leaving his lower body still exposed, as it was clearly going to remain as long as he was in Maggie’s care for the time being.
“Oh, wow,” Maggie cooed kindly, putting on an air of sincerity intended to make her brother squirm even more. The girl gazed lovingly upon her twisted craft project, with the absurdly poofy dress covering Scott’s torso not even coming close to covering anything below his waist. She prodded a fingertip at his little butt cheeks again, making him instantly crumple to his knees in surprise and embarrassment. She knew exactly how to push his buttons, and savored the trembling she felt in him as she continued holding her finger against his skin. “Scott?”
“What?” he groaned after a short pause, clenching his eyes shut as he continued kneeling in his sister’s hand in an unintentional bow, the cold yet soft touch of her stubby finger still jamming insistently against his one of his butt cheeks to keep him in line.
“You’re so adorable like this,” she whispered even more softly, pursing her lips and blowing another stream of warm air down onto his face while also blustering the folds of the dress. She traced a pointer finger along the ruffles of the dress just under Scott’s chin, then gently stroked along his stomach and down his calves, as though discovering him for the first time. “My perfect little dolly.”
Scott could feel the numbness pouring destructively into every corner of his mind like pure acetone. The feeling was all-encompassing, such that he didn’t even find himself caring much that his sister’s fingers were still prodding around his thighs and rear end to keep him still.
And this time, his surrender had not originated from the exhaustion like he’d faced between his mother’s toes the previous evening, but this time simply from the lack of will to act in the face of such malevolent creativity on Maggie’s part. How long had she spent dreaming up this moment? How many countless class periods at school had she used wishing she could dress up her older brother in doll clothes? How many nights had she laid awake plotting out a way to get him into this position not by her own choices, but his own, just to put the final nail in the coffin?
His sister had him slipped easily into half of a doll dress, through his own refusal to choose, with her friends on the way to see him, and it wasn’t even breakfast yet. Where else could the day go from here but straight down to hell or even lower?
“Now,” Maggie sighed. “Little brother. I’ve got another choice for you to make.”
Scott could only manage a hushed “oh.”
“I need you to put your hands on your crotch.”
That was almost enough to shake Scott from his stupor for a few brief seconds. “Why?” he croaked, fresh alarm ringing in his heart.
“You heard me,” she smirked goofily, her eyes widening momentarily at the delicious scandal of it and the tip of her tongue lapping playfully across her upper lip. “Cover up your embarrassing little dick.”
“I… I…” he started, unsure where even to begin trying to comprehend the intense emotional cruelty of his sibling captor, but his throat had gone dry once again.
“Don’t make it weird,” she instructed with a condescending frown, as though trying to convince him of how pedestrian a request she was making of him. “Just put your hands over your balls so I can’t see them anymore. Trust me, you don’t want them showing for this. But it’s your choice.”
Scott only looked at her, shaking his head back and forth in the negative, not so much out of the hard defiance he felt only a short time ago this morning, but out of veritable ambivalence to the situation. What else could she do to him, after all?
“Fine,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. “Then I’ll do it.”
And before he could even open his mouth to react, Maggie’s thumb swooped into her palm and thrust itself against his crotch without a moment’s extra hesitation.
Scott’s jaw dropped, though no sound escaped, as he blinked down in stupefied disbelief at the sight of his sister’s gargantuan thumb jammed directly against his sack.
It was the first time she had done so to her tiny brother in so direct and intentional a manner that didn’t involve accidentally brushing between his legs while picking him up or curling her toes around him in her socks. There was no mistaking this.
There wasn’t a trace of shyness in it, either, as her thumb forced its way between his legs so hard that it felt akin to a swift kick in the groin for Scott. He managed a grunt of pain as the hollow agony ripped through his body for a few endless moments, his feeble member pinned against the lower part of his stomach from the sudden application of pressure.
Maggie didn’t seem to have any qualms with making her finger right at home. She ground her thumb back and forth against her tiny captive’s junk, using her finger like a cradle for his package while still clasping effectively enough that his dick was squeezed painfully under the mass of her thumb. Scott could even hear her humming a tune lightly under her breath while she so casually dug her finger against her shrunken brother’s naked privates as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
Then, in that old familiar way that caused Scott untold distress in his youth, he felt the stirring between his legs, his hair standing on end and his skin prickling with involuntary warmth. He had faced this same compulsory crime of biology several times before, amongst a sea of bubbles when his mother forcibly bathed his shrunken body, and when a friend of Judy’s had unabashedly jerked him off between her toes in the sweaty confines of her heel.
But this was different in its deliberate focus. The massive pad of thumb flesh currently rocking back and forth with aggressive resolve against his dick, powerful and intimidating though it was in its capacity to ball bust him, was also tender and arousing in such close proximity, and though he hated himself for it with untold passion, Scott felt his member hardening obediently at the attention it was receiving.
How many more seconds could he last before he was hard enough that Maggie would notice? How would he be able to stop himself from vomiting in stark shame once he was outed? What could he possibly say to diffuse the situation, to any member of his family? And, perhaps worst of all, what if Maggie had noticed it already but had no problem in watching him squirm under her touch?
Thankfully, Scott didn’t have to answer those questions. When Maggie was finally satisfied with her thumb’s position against Scott’s delicate goods, she gave one final hard squeeze against them that rendered a yelp of breathless agony from Scott, who practically flopped over incapacitated, his boner over-effectively discouraged by this last gesture before it was even noticed.
“Should’ve taken the choice I gave you…” the conniving blonde sixteen-year-old whispered under her breath while shaking her head with feigned disappointment.
Having gotten a good enough underside grip, Maggie’s finger then steadily began to rise off her cushy palm, keeping the shaking and pain-wracked body of her three-inch-tall older brother draped loosely over the edges of her thick digit, her skin still pressed up against his abused miniature stones.
Despite the incredible itching the pink doll dress top was causing his upper body, all Scott could focus on now was the nearly unbearable stinging still tearing through his body from when her thumb had first belted him in the rod.
Ironically, he had been saved from a very difficult conversation when she had given that final thrust that stopped his pre-emptive erection in its tracks, as he felt his loins wilting with pain again. All things considered, a humiliating catastrophe had been so narrowly avoided, had Maggie been paying better attention, Scott was sure he’d be suffering the consequences of his own uncontrollable hormones at this moment. Still, the cramping lingered persistently from the heavy pressure of the girl’s thumb, and he considered rolling off to the side to escape the sensation.
Before he could make a decision or convince any of his strained muscles that moving was a good idea, Scott was abruptly drowned in a blinding flash of light. Thrashing with surprise, for a chilling second he assumed his sister had retrieved the PMRD with the intention of reducing him down to her preferred height for him of one inch, but this light lacked the green hue of his family’s favorite discipline tool. Blinking away the fogginess burned momentarily into his vision, he looked up and realized the source was not the shrinking device, but simply Maggie’s cell phone camera, glowing with baneful promise.
Scott assumed he would never see the day that he was more afraid of any piece of technology in existence than the PMRD. But as he glanced dumbly back and forth between his half-nude attire and the incriminating communication device grasped in his younger sister’s other hand, he knew his previous assumption was wrong, and immediately his blood ran cold enough to be melted by ice as realization dawned on him.
“See?” Maggie drawled slowly, glancing with a girlish snicker at the screen of her phone to make sure the picture came out well and nodding when it did. “This is what I have to do with you when you’re being annoying. And we both need to get one thing straight, so that dress doesn’t go to your head. You may be a princess in my room, little brother, but in here, you also need to remember…” she gushed, opening her mouth and nonchalantly sliding her slimy teenage tongue along her glistening palate. “…I’m your fucking queen."
Her giggling seemed to go on ceaselessly, even devolving into cackling, as she casually lowered her thumb back into her other palm and allowed her brother to tumble backward into his fleshy cupped prison again, while she brandished the cell phone far out of his reach from above.
“God,” Scott thought to himself with a painful swallow as he lay in a state of miring darkness, barely able to process his own conclusions despite the blazing flash of clarity from the camera. “She really does believe it.”
“And just in case you were wondering, Princess Scott,” Maggie added with a wink as her firm, log-like fingers snaked and squeezed their way back around Scott’s fragile form without delay, her eyes aglow as she gazed adoringly at the picture on her phone. “I’ll make sure to let you know how many likes this gets on Instagram.”