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“Feed me slave-y.”

Jeff stood stuck between an enormous bag of sour candy and Hannah’s massive face. Her eyes were rolled to the side, viewing his dispassionately, like he was no more than a decoration on the pillow she lay on. Hoisting one of the massive candies under his arm, Jeff sighed. The sugar crystal grated against his skin and his grip was poor due to the candy’s gelatinous structure. He took a step onto Hannah’s cheek, her skin was much firmer than the pillow. He could feel her jaw clench and release as she moved her tongue idly, her body shifting unconsciously as she scrolled through her social media feed

Her eyes tracked him along her face as he moved, passing freckles and small blemishes hidden under a minimal amount of makeup. Hot air washed over him as he moved under her nostrils. Her breath was inoffensive, honestly pleasant, given the cool temperature she kept her room at. Philtrum, Jeff thought. He learned the word last year, studying for a vocabulary test. The little groove in the middle of the upper lip. Fat lot of good that did him now.

Hannah resisted wrinkling her nose as she felt Jeff’s tickling steps below it. Dramatically, she opened her lips. Parting the light pink masses like two halves of a drawbridge raising. Jeff got a front-seat view of the plump, grooved skin of the lips as she revealed her maw below. Stringy lines of spit broke with audible pops, catching the light and sparkling before trickling back into her mouth. Something no one would notice unless they were in the exact same situation Jeff was in now.

“Aaaaahhhhhhh” Her voice erupted from the black void, causing Jeff to flinch, nearly losing his balance. Panting, he hoisted the candy into her mouth. The sugary treat disappeared. He caught a glimpse of her massive tongue curling around it before her lips slammed shut. This sudden movement tripped Jeff and he fell between Hannah’s closed lips. They were soft and smooth, softer than her skin by far, and smelled vaguely of the sugary-fruity candies he had been feeding her. He felt her smile, her pouty disposition pointing upwards as she enjoyed his predicament. She pressed her lips upwards, in a cruel imitation of a kiss. Jeff felt himself slipping slowly between them, fullness giving way to warm wetness as he started to slip into her mouth. He tried not to scream, only letting out a sharp, terrified breath.

“That’s enough for now. Got to watch my figure.” Hannah plucked him away from her mouth, overwhelming his senses in a rush of hard flesh and movement as he lost himself in her hand. She drew him quickly across her toned stomach, giving him a sneak-peek of the churning noises within. “Listen to your hard work” she taunted.

She placed Jeff in a glass jar on her desk, turning and rummaging in a dresser drawer. Her long hair flowed down to the small of her back, almost reaching the black shorts that barely concealed her incredibly toned ass. She raised her arms to grab something else and exposed her hourglass curves and thin, toned back muscles. She didn’t need to watch her figure. Jeff wondered what she was doing. He stole a glance at the clock on the wall, it was nearly one in the afternoon, on a Saturday. Jeff guessed she was getting ready to go out.

She grabbed some clothes and left the room. Jeff heard the shower turn on, confirming his thoughts.

“Hey man.” Jeff jumped, startled. He had been so entranced by Hannah’s movements he didn’t even notice the man huddled in a ball at the back of the jar.

“Hey…” Jeff replied warily. This man looked to be about thirty years old, gaunt and emaciated, with patchy, thinning hair. It looked like he had undergone years of torture. “Who are you?”

“Gordon. Gordon Darlington. You?”

“Uh, Jeff. Jeff Stevens.”

Gordon’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Stevens? Like-?” He gestured towards the door Hannah walked out of. Jeff nodded. Gordon shook his head in disgust. “That’s rough kid, really, I’m sorry. Jesus. That’s rough.”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Jeff started, “but you seem like you’ve been around a long time. I don’t remember Hannah keeping any TINEE for very long.”

Gordon waved a tired hand. “She just inherited me yesterday.” He spat out the word “inherited” like it was a curse. “That volleyball team saves their favorite people and passes them around. I went to your high school over twelve years ago. I made friends with a girl named Carrie. For a couple years I thought she was protecting me, keeping the other girls away from me. But she was just saving me for herself. When I turned eighteen, she put in a special request – her mom was some important government official – and boom off I go to get shrunk. A year later,” he shuddered, lost in the memory, “a year later she gave me to another player. Like a senior gift. All that time stuffed in her socks. Every game, every practice, every group sleepover. I was underneath those feet. And she just dumped me off. She knew, I was stupid, she knew I had a foot fetish. I stupidly confessed that to her the year before I shrunk – I thought we were best friends – and she would taunt me. Ask how I’m enjoying my prison. Rub me all around her sweaty feet, make me clean her toes. She acted like she was doing me a favor. And, yeah, sometimes I didn’t hate it. Which I guess was better than the rest of the TINEEs. So, they kept me. The high school volleyball foot-slave. Fuck, kid, I thought I could make something of my life.”

Gordon talked for quite some time, clearly glad to have some human contact that was the same size as him. Jeff listened as Gordon told the story of being passed from Carrie to Lisa to Christy and eventually to Hannah. Apparently yesterday was some sort of homecoming game and it was tradition for the seniors to pass down a TINEE.

“Well, hope to see you alive again, kid.” Gordon said mournfully. Hannah walked back into the room, steam radiating from her exposed chest and shoulders. Her hair and torso were tightly wrapped in clean white towels. Jeff gulped, Gordon was to broken to hide the fact he clearly thought Jeff wasn’t going to survive the day.

Whistling cheerfully and ignoring the two trapped tiny humans, Hannah slipped on a mismatched bra and panties combo, green bra and red thong. Dark blue leggings with some sort of geometric pattern running down the legs went on over the thong – the contrasting colors leaving little to the imagination and hinting at the marvelous ass barely concealed by the thin fabric. A comfy hoodie concealed the tight lines of her body. She strode casually back to the jar, reaching in like lightning and grabbing Gordon. Before Jeff realized what was going on, she had slipped him into a well-worn black athletic sock that barely reached her ankles. As if she hadn’t confined a man in her sock, she walked back across the room and started applying makeup.

Jeff was transfixed, wondering what, if anything, she was going to do to him. After several minutes, she stood, grabbed her purse, and strolled to her room’s door. She paused halfway out the door, half-turning her body and staring directly at Jeff in the jar. Several strands of hair fell over her smiling face.

“See you tonight. The girls are coming over.”


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