Tory’s fingers cinched back around him and resumed their previous activity of squeezing and caressing, just to ensure his boner was fresh for the upcoming public embarrassment. Paul was absolutely dizzy with lust for the feeling encompassing his beleaguered body, not to mention the fact that his manhood was managing to come alive, despite it being his own sister’s conscious fault. A few twitches of her dexterous fingers, and he was lost.

            Zoey returned, dress container in tow, and started digging.

            “Ooh, I definitely want to see him in this one. And this one. This one, too!” Practically every tiny garment Zoey laid hands on was selected and set beside the dollhouse. Tory turned her hand so the boy could get a glimpse of his upcoming stylish future. None of Zoey’s choices were the more neutral job-specific attires, like a chef, but instead an array of ball gowns, cocktail dresses, and flirty summer get-ups from across the rainbow spectrum.

            “This is going to be one heck of a fashion show,” Tory said.

            “Oh, wait… these are all too big,” Zoey observed, momentarily crestfallen. “They’re meant to fit the bigger dolls, like how you made him at first. In these, he’d just look like a cute little girl trying on his mommy’s favorite dresses…”

            “Don’t worry about that. I’ll make them all fit him just perfect.”

            “Really? Thanks, Tory!”

            There had never been such harmony between the often-warring sisters. Paul only wished this family peace didn’t have to come at the cost of his size, his dignity and, soon, his sexual privacy. If only their mother would call the girls away to dinner so he could have time to cool off and begin work on the new mess Zoey created for him.

            “What should he wear first?”

            “That’s a tough one. They all look so pretty,” Tory said. “Why doesn’t Mary-Ann choose for himself?”

            “Yeah! That’s a good idea. What do you think, dolly-boy?”

            Paul was hoisted in his sister’s fist over the options. There were at least a dozen, and Zoey was continuing to pull more from the box. If he was going to have to wear all of them eventually, then it didn’t matter what he chose. However, a gown with a broader train might help him conceal the crime between his legs. Tory already had him dead to rights, but maybe he could salvage Zoey’s opinion of him.

            “That one,” he selected glumly, nodding in the direction of the poofiest and most regal silver-blue garment.

            “Cinderella’s ball gown, from the Fairy Godmother! That’ll look so nice on you, Mary-Ann!” Zoey chirped. She scooped up the chosen item and separated the skirts with her fingers, providing a clear path for her brother to enter the fluffy tunnel which also inconveniently assured that Paul would have to squeeze his naked body along his little sister’s curious fingers in order to fit. “C’mon in!”

            “Not so fast. He can’t wear two dresses at the same time, after all,” Tory said. Her fist opened back up, dumping her brother kindly to the carpet, and Peter’s heart sunk. “Well, don’t just lay there, little doll. We can’t have a fashion show if you don’t put on some actual fashion. Take that thing off, now.”

            Paul was walled in by a canyon of his sister’s legs and dresses: one fiery red, one sunny yellow. Both of them scooted closer, ensuring he had nowhere to run. Zoey held up the Cinderella gown by the floor, ready for her older brother to wriggle inside as soon as he was nude; Tory simply crossed her arms again and waited for her literal handiwork to break her tiny sibling’s spirit.

            “Do it now, Mary-Ann, or Zoey will do it for you,” Tory threatened. The gleam in Zoey’s eye confirmed this.

            Realizing he was defeated, the four-inch boy started clambering out of the maid’s uniform, with no sign of calm from his manhood.

            “Oh, ho-ho-ho-HO!” Tory guffawed in obviously forced fashion, though the look of utter sniveling delight at this triumph was genuine. She laid on her stomach and rested her chin on her crossed arms, getting her tanned and fastidious face as close as possible to her humiliated little brother.

            “Woah… is that what I think it is?” Zoey murmured.

            Indeed it was, as Paul stood naked on the heap of discarded lace and cloth, sporting a blatant erection.

            The youngest sibling abandoned her toy box of garments and crawled nearer to Tory and Paul, hunching down near the boy as well for a closer look. Suddenly there were two enormous feminine countenances walling the shrunken horndog in, their bright lash-bedecked eyes practically boring through him. Turning in a circle, Paul found it utterly impossible to shield himself, as refusing to point his disastrous dick at the face of one giant sister only meant he had to aim at the other instead. With no good options, he resolved to awkwardly swivel in clumsy rotation, trying to hunch slightly to conceal the extent of his libido, but did a poor job of it.

            “Yep… sorry you have to see this, Zoey. Have they even covered this stuff in your school yet?” Tory mocked. “You know… the changes in your bodies crap?”

            “Yes, they have!” the girl defended, bobbing her stockinged foot off the ground and slamming it back to the carpet far behind. “I’m not a kid, you know.”

            “Just checking,” Zoey giggled. She cocked her head to the side and drummed her fingers on the floor, easily within reaching distance of her four-inch sibling-turned-maid. “Well, in case it wasn’t obvious to you, I’ll just point it out, so you don’t have to be embarrassed, Zoey: our tiny Mary-Ann has an erection.”

            “I can see THAT!” The girl was obviously getting more riled up over this playful infantilization by Tory, rather than Paul’s actual situation, but either way, the conversation was only making the boy feel lower. Which, unhelpfully, kept his hard-on up.

            “So why do you think that is?”

            “I don’t know! Maybe he just started thinking about some girl he likes,” Zoey said with a shrug. Admittedly, her casual acceptance of Paul’s disgusting physical reaction was unexpected, and a bit of a blessing. Still, he counted on Tory to ruin it quickly.

            “It’s possible, but given all the other… distractions… that Mary-Ann has to deal with right now, I’d think any normal person would keep their attention on what’s actually happening! You know, like the fact that I shrunk him into our doll-maid, and he has to wear dresses until we say he can’t?” Tory continued. Her voice was measured and almost caring, for Zoey’s sake, though it was obvious she was just gilding the lily, rather than speaking from the goodness of her heart. Paul was pretty sure she didn’t have that, anyway.

            “Okay, so…” Zoey drawled, clearly lost. Her miniature brother almost felt sorry for her, if it wasn’t for the fact that she was trying to deduce her way through her own sibling’s oddball sexuality. The evidence couldn’t be plainer. She was a sweet girl, but a bit of a ditz.

            “What do you think that means?” Tory pressed.

            “His little penis is confused?”

            “No!” Exhausted by the process, Tory shrugged, then reached out and gripped her younger sister by the shoulders. This created a secondary barrier for Paul, corralled by his elder sibling’s athletic limbs, while the girls’ curious faces hovered above. Their sleek brunette locks hung in canopies past their rosy cheeks. Paul was just relieved to be mostly ignored, and used more like some microscope slide than an actual person, though he had a sinking feeling that was about to change.

            “What?” Zoey blurted.

            “We found him trying on my dress, right?”  

            “Yeah, cuz he likes wearing them! And he looks so pretty in them, too!”

            “Whatever. The point is, Z, that a lot of boys don’t just do that without another reason. In Mary Ann’s case, it’s because he gets… into it. And now that we’re making him do it, he’s only getting more into it. Don’t you see now?”

            Zoey’s already-attentive eyes widened to dinner plate proportions. Her jaw hung limp to form a cartoonish O-shape expression. The look might have been adorable to Paul, if it wasn’t inspired by the most horrific-possible conversation topic of his fetish. After a few seconds of shock passed by, Zoey tilted her head down to once again observe her brother. Too embarrassed now to face the more innocent of his sisters, Paul had regretfully turned again to point his diminutive pecker at Tory.

            However, this wouldn’t last. He felt the younger giantess’s index finger snaking down his back, accidentally petting his naked body as collateral of trying to encourage him to turn. The contact of her silky-smooth skin against his own blushing frame sent the guiltiest shiver of his life down Paul’s spine. Then, to make matters worse, Zoey curled her finger around the front of his puny four-inch frame, brushing her padded fingertip right past his sensitive nethers and pressing on his thigh, until she had enough leverage to spin the boy right around to face her again, effectively pushing him along crotch-ward with her powerful trunk-like digit.

            Red as a beet and shriveling internally, Paul felt his titanic little sister’s scientifically amused gaze scanning him up and down. He didn’t think he could possibly feel more naked after being forced to strip off the French maid getup, but he’d officially discovered the way to do so now.

            “Wow,” Zoey uttered at last. Her lip quivered, like she wasn’t sure which way to turn the corners of her mouth, up or down. Ultimately she went with the kind of sheer elation that Paul didn’t imagine could have made her any more radiant than if she was a child learning of the real-life existence of fairies. “WOW!”

            “Okay, maybe get ahold of yourself,” Tory snorted.

            “You’re telling me you love wearing dresses this much?” Zoey balked. “Why didn’t you tell us SOONER?”