She’s the snob who thinks she’s too good for you. She’s the kinky nerd who wants to keep you. She’s the hippy who hates people like you. She’s the teen bitch from high school who would never talk to you. Fred through all the photos on his computer while he pleasured himself. She’s the nice girl who never knew you were there. She’s the one who questions what it would feel like. He would give a little synopsis in his head of the story that each photo told. She’s the ex who finally gets revenge on you for cheating on her. She’s the one who crushes you when she cheats on you with her new girlfriend. And she knows you’re there. No. She doesn’t know you’re there. She shrank you. No. Her girlfriend shrunk you. Swallowed. No crushed. Crushed between toes. No. squeezed between toes as her new lover sucks them, one by one until she gets to you. Her tongue goes between your ex’s toes and licks you right up. Your girlfriend, meanwhile, is masturbating to you being licked off her toes. This is good. When Fred finds his picture, he creates the most elaborate story, and therefore, most realistic fantasy in his head before finishing. After resting, he saves the image onto his hard drive. He wants to keep the image that brought him to, hoping it will do the same in the future. The problem, as Fred was realizing, is that all of his images tend to have his narratives attached in his brain. So he could only repeat the stories that go to each image. It became like reading the same short stories over and over. I realized that part of the excitement is not just what he imagines, but THAT he is imagining. The process of creation is part of the ritual that brings him to. Even when he is with women, he is often fantasizing about what he really wants to do: shrink down and experience the women thousands of times larger than they were. When he kissed, he imagined being in her mouth. When he caressed her breasts, he imagined bouncing across them. When he massaged her feet, he imagined being lost in her luscious soles. When he fucked, he imagined being fucked. Repeating a fantasy made it seem less real because he already experienced it with the creation; like re-reading a book, it may still be good, but you lose the thrill of not knowing what is next. Sure, there are stereotypes and trope characters and plots, but it was still relatively new. Real life doesn’t repeat exactly, and if it does, we get bored or we get Déjà vu; which is an entirely different subject. Not knowing what is going to happen next makes it a real experience.

So when the technology finally came, so did Fred. It was a huge campaign from a massive company (Particulate Particulars; or PTwo) that had barely been around. PTwo held a 2 week event in which they offered people to test out their new product: The Shrink Station! They advertised across the entire spectrum. They advertised the realty aspect: floor space is now infinite; have a forty acre yard in 5 square ft. They advertised to moms: You know that tough to reach spot in the kitchen. They advertised to young men: a bottle of beer can last a week when you’re this small. They advertised to kids: make your Lego castle a REAL castle. And of course they discreetly advertised to Fred’s kind: Hold your significant other in the palm of your hand – have all kinds of adventures – give her a micro massage. For two weeks, they shrank anyone for free at their local stations. The only rule was that you can only shrink in their stations. People went by the millions. The media reported exclusively on this new product for the whole two weeks. Reporters and camera crew would all go and shrink on live television. Celebrities shrank and tweeted about it, models offered their bodies as landscape to explore. PTwo offered that if you try their machine, in the week after, they would give shrink rays to you for free before they hit the market. Naturally everyone wanted a free shrink ray, so they tested it and on the third week, they went to pick up their guns. Nobody paid close attention, they just wanted to get their shrink guns. Everyone that showed up was basically shrunk on the spot and bottled up. Millions ended up 1 cm tall on imprisoned by PTwo. The tinies became a new commodity to be sold on the market to high buyers. And of course Fred was one of the first in line.

PTwo sold the tinies as property and they advertised by basically saying you can do whatever you want to these former people. They offered two things: 1) For $20,000, you can get anyone specific that you want. Say, a loved one, a hated one, a friend, a celebrity (though, those go for a lot more), basically anyone you could name. If someone else wanted to buy the person, there would be a bidding. 2) People could just buy a bundle of any number of random people. So those looking for a loved one should hurry before they are just bought up by a stranger. People started out nice, buying friends, trying to help people; but it eventually regressed as is human nature. Slowly the tinies became pets, then slaves, then it happened. The microphiles and macrofiles were the first to do it, kill tinies for internet videos. The kink eventually made its way to the mainstream and tinies were used in all sorts of porn. Soon, the massed viewed the tinies as people no more. This is exactly what PTwo wanted. Their sales were low when people were keeping their tinies as friends or slaves, once people started killing their tinies for whatever reason, their sales skyrocketed.

Fred couldn’t believe his fantasies could now come true. Right when PTwo’s true motivation went public, Fred drove himself to one of the clinics. Fred walked right up to the beautiful woman at the counter.

“Welcome to Particulate particulars!” The young woman had the enthusiasm of someone who really loved her job. “My name is Stacy. What can we do for you today?”

“I’d like to sign up.”

“Okay. Do you want to get specific people or a bundle pack?”

“Oh, no. I want to be shrunk. I want to be one of the people who shrinks.”

The woman stammered in disbelief. “Uh. Oh. Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Well, I’m sure we can arrange that. I’ve heard of it happening elsewhere, but nobody has come here requesting to do that.”

“I guess I’m your first. I know what I want.”

“Heh. Look. I’m guessing you have some kind of fantasy or fetish for this, but this is the real deal. Ninety-nine percent of tinies are killed within two weeks of purchase. You may think you want this, but you need to think about it. If I bought you, what would you want me to do with you?”

“Anything you want.”

“Cute. But what would be your ultimate fantasy?”

“I …” Fred looked down at her feet. They looked so soft. They were in black flip-flops and had clear nail polish. “I’d want you to put me between your toes.” Fred was a little embarrassed to say it out loud, but he was also exhilarated to tell a beautiful woman this when the possibility was right there.

“Okay. Say I shrank you and put you between my toes right now. I work for another 3 hours on my feet. I could accidentally step on you. Or I put you between my toes when I’m drunk at a party to make people laugh; then I forget about you and squish you unknowingly?” The woman got closer to Fred as she spoke. “What if I invite one of my girlfriends over, stick you between my sweaty toes, and have her suck you right out from between them?” She then shoved her hand against his crotch and grabbed his rock hard member. “Oh. You really do want this.” She walked back behind the counter after giving a little squeeze. Stacy brought out a form. “Fill this out.”

Fred took the form and started filling out his personal info. He barely got a chance to look up before a bright flash of light hit him. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to block the light with his hand. He slowly opened his eyes and removed his hand to see what he always fantasized about… a giant world. His clothes shrank with him. He heard Stacy’s voice from behind the counter; which was now larger than any skyscraper Fred had ever seen.

“Hey. Where’d you go?”

His jaw dropped when Stacy rounded the corner of the counter. She looked glorious at that size. His jaw didn’t even shut when she approached him, not looking down. His neck strained as he looked up to see the bottom of the flip-flop he once admire, hovering above him. Then it came down. His last thought before the flip-flop came all the way down, was that this was still worth it. The wind from the footwear hitting the ground in front of him, knocked him off his feet. He looked all the way up to see Stacy, bent over, staring at him.

“That is just a little demo of what you could face, little man. You have no idea what you are going to face, who is going to buy you, and what she or he will do with you. You cannot turn back now, but I wanted to warn you anyway. As both an introductory and farewell present, I’ll give you your fantasy. Climb onto my flip-flop and spend either the rest of my shift with my foot, or until someone buys you.”

Fred couldn’t believe it. He stood up right away and walked right up to the black flip-flop. Reaching as high as he could, he was just barely able to get ahold of the top and pull himself on. Once atop, he gazed at the massive toes before him. “Your toes are beautiful!” He looked up to see a reaction from her, but her face remained unchanged. He realized she couldn’t hear him at his new size. “I want to fuck your toes!” He smiled. He always wanted to say that.

“Grab onto something. I need to go behind the counter again.”

Fred moved with excitement abated with hesitation. The beautiful toes were massive. He was only a little shorter than the toes, but even the pinky toe was about 6ft. wide to him. He approached the second and third toes. They were nice and long, and he could feel the warmth radiating from them. He craned his neck looking all the way up her legs and torso to her watching face. He reach down to his crotch, half gesturing to his zipper half gesturing to his bulging erection, asking her for permission.

“Whatever you want honey.” Stacy smiled down to him.

Fred wasted no time unzipping his pant. He moved right in front of her third toe. H grasped the sides with both hands, and began humping. Stacy laughed before telling him to go somewhere where he doesn’t have to risk being flung off. After a couple more humps and a lasting final thrust, Fred let go and took one step sideways. Stacy obviously knew what he was thinking; she shifted her weight from the ball of her foot to the heel. The subtle shift for her felt like an earthquake for Fred. Stacy did this so there was less tension on her toes to keep balance. Fred was able to slightly push he toes apart so he could squeeze between them. He used the toes pressing together to get one arm and one leg up toward the top of the toes and used his other leg and arm to sort of wrap around the bottom. So he was riding the toe like a cowboy … but sideways. The pressure between the toes was light, but strong enough to hold him so that he didn’t have to make much of an effort to stay on. Stacy was impressed and a little turned on. Since her early teens, she liked wearing toe rings. She felt like it made her toes more important; some kind of early, immature egotism: “People wear valuables on their fingers and ears to make them look important, but even my smelly toes are that important”. The idea may have lingered, but never articulated in such a young way. She now liked how it felt to wear a human on her toe. Her 12 year old mind may have thought: “This guy was a full human who had a life as important as the next guy’s, but my stinky toes are more important than his life”. She watched him with her first step very carefully. She had crushed tinies before; the company actually requires all employees to have crushed at least one before starting. But this guy actually wanted to be there, stuck between her toes. He even had a hard on that she could just barely pick out, ramming into the side of her toe. She was incredibly horny now. Stacy was even thinking about buying him; or at the very least, think of him when she was killing her own stock at home. When she finally got to her spot behind the counter, she started playing with him. She adjusted how much squeeze was between her toes. She would squeeze, then release enough to give him room to hump. In the middle of her fun, a female customer walked in. Even from where he was and the focus he had, Fred could hear the conversation.

“Hi, I’m Stacy. What can I do for you?

“Hi. I’m looking to buy a dozen of randoms and two specials.”

“Okay. I have a variety pack here. And what are the specials you want?”

“The first, if you still have her, is Scarlett Johansson.” The voice was hopeful.

“Let’s see.” Stacy continued massaging Fred while she checked the computer system. “I do have her. Right now, the bid is at twenty-two thousand. You can bid now or pay double and get her now.”

“I’ll pay double to get her. I just inherited a lot of money from family members who were shrunk.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I’m not. I bought them myself and crushed them all under my foot in one step. Wore their bloody stain for the whole day, took a picture too.”

Stacy smiled as she squeezed Fred really hard. Crushing people under foot was Stacy’s favorite way to kill. She liked that the end of a person’s life was simply under her foot. That’s a terrible place to die. All your life amounts to, is being crushed under the sole of a brat young girl. She almost got lost in thought before she remembered she was supposed to help the customer. “You have successfully purchased Scarlett Johansson. Who is the other special you want to buy?”

“Not so much a who as a what? I don’t know if you keep track of this, but I want a person with a fetish for this; for shrinking and … I think it is called giantess stuff?”

Stacy was feeling light headed by how turned on she was. She squeezed so hard on Fred, they both thought he was done for. “Any … particular part of the fetish? Maybe vore? Or gentle? Or… foot fetishists?” Stacy didn’t let go of her squeeze. She held while the woman decided. Finally, she felt the tiny splurt on her toe.

“It doesn’t really matter what kind. As long as it would want to be shrunk.”

Fred went completely limp and fell between her toes to the flip-flop.

“It just so happens we got one of those today. I’ll have to go bag him up. Right now, your total stand at an even forty-nine thousand.” Stacy carefully walked to the back room. She sat down, carefully cupped Fred with her toes before lifting her leg and crossing it over her knee. Twisting her foot upward, she was able to take off her flip-flop so that Fred just stayed, cradled in her toes. “Did you hear that? You’re going home with a pretty lady.

Fred could barely listen. He was high. He just laid limp on her toes, licking her flesh. She let him do this for a few moments, but it ended. He felt the world turn sideways and he fell into a box. The landing was soft enough, but then the lid left him in darkness.