I awoke to what I thought was an earthquake. When I opened my eyes I didn't recognize where I was – the place seemed familiar but it was a room I'd never seen before. Everything seemed – off.

Everything was shaking violently and the room I was in appeared to be ripping in half. I leapt from the couch and fell further than I would have expected, and that along with the shaking knocked me to the ground. It felt like plastic. Then memories of after the midterms flooded back.

I looked up and I was at first blinded by light – but then I saw a black silhouette of a giant, and I scrambled backwards.

Stephanie, the shrinking, the giant eye, the communicating with the billboard. I was tiny. None of it was a dream. I turned and ran into the half the house that remained, hysterical, just yelling incoherently out of fear.

I didn't make it very far when a pair of yellow fingers cut off my path, flying in like a two logs, but moving unnaturally. I heard a booming laugh from above. “Where do you think you're going?”

The yellow skin and the voice - this wasn't Stephanie. I was suddenly encased in flesh. Whoever was holding me had such a tight grip that I had to turn my face to breathe, but even then I could only barely. Her skin was oily. I only just had the tiniest of gaps to breathe amongst the folds of her skin, the air tasting slightly of salt and also unnaturally sweet. It smelled a bit like pizza.

The grip loosened slightly and a giant pink thumb slammed into my chest and knocked the wind out of me, dragging me up the palm before the whole thing tightened its' a grip around me again. I found my arms locked at my side, my shoulders and head just barely peaking out the edge of an enclosed fist.

The first thing I noticed was a pair of pink lips with a glossy finish. They opened and closed rapidly, showing teeth, tongue, and saliva, as they audibly smacked on a piece of gum. I was probably only about 10-15 yards from it. Her lips would part and her maw would open, and I watched a piece of gum larger than I was thrown about in her saliva. Her tongue pushed it in whichever direction it wanted, more often towards the sides of her molars before the whole contraption slammed back down. When the maw reopened, I could see the flattened piece of gum, indented from the pressure, stuck either on the top of or bottom set of teeth. Saliva, rolling over her gums and teeth, splashed around her tongue and created a pool below it.

Her teeth were slightly yellow. Her tongue, red.

“Hey Mark” the voice boomed. “how's it going down there?” The gum was tossed by her tongue from one side to the other before the molars slammed down on them again. Her breath swept over my like a warm front, it smelled of the sickly sweet aspartame in her gum.

I continued to look up at this new human billboard. There were sparkles of glitter on her pink face and her nose was rounded, her eyes blue. Above her was a dirty blond hair pulled back behind her head.

Her face was wider than Stephanie's, reminding me of a chipmunk with a nut in it's mouth. She had a bit of a double chin.

Rebecca. One of Stephanie's “friends” from her floor. We both found her annoying but we were both too kind to tell her to fuck off, so we ended up chilling with her often.

She was the type of girl, who if I was engaged in a conversation with someone else, would interject with something completely random and continue to talk like I hadn't been in the middle of a conversation about something entirely different. This had soon earned her the nickname of “Random Rebecca” but when we first called her that she flipped, so we only ended up saying it behind her back. Normally I don't like anything close to gossip but at least we didn't insult her much beyond that.

I didn't like being held like this and I didn't trust Rebecca. She wasn't my friend, and I don't think Stephanie really liked her particularly much. At this size I was quite scared of her. I still hadn't said anything.

Her chewing slowed down. I saw her more gently mash the gum on one side of her teeth, using her tongue to roll it into a column like, all the while smashing it under that same set of teeth. It suddenly shifted to the front of her mouth, and I watched her top and bottom incisors cut it in half. I heard a loud crack – she snapped it in her mouth.

“Watcha staring at tiny one?”

Tiny one? I was angered suddenly. “I have a name you know!”

Rebecca smiles, the gaps between her teeth had a bit of plaque, saliva oozing between.

“So?” she said, the word sounding like she had a mouthful of food.

I heard a gurgle from her mouth – it sounded like my body was pressed up against histories largest lion's throat as it roared. She opened her lips and I could suddenly see a mouth full of saliva – from where I was, it looked like a large pond. It was viscous and mostly white, almost like it was full of trapped bubbles.

Her glossy pink lips suddenly locked and her hand swooped me in below them – it looked like she was about to kiss me. Abruptly spit began to lower from her mouth, moved a few inches and began to slow, like a tentacle growing from the hole in the middle of her pursed lips. It was sickening, slowly lowering till it appeared above my head – till it was only a foot away.

I heard a loud 'SLURP' and it was gone, almost before I could comprehend it.

“Yea, you have an owner now too tiny Mark.” She said it in a sing song voice. “But guess what, I'm a proud owner of a tiny too! Guess who it is?”

Rebecca owned somebody. Sorry sap whoever that was.

I tried shrugging my shoulders but I couldn't as I was pinned in her hand, so I just said, “I don't know, who?”

Her glossy pink lips again revealed her dark wet mouth. She was tossing her gum up and down on her tongue, it looked like a longboard being thrown in the air by a huge red wave.

“Why dontcha see for yourself?” she cooed at me.

At first I just found myself continuing to stare at her as she smiled at me with her glossy pink lips together. I could hear a slurp of saliva from within her mouth, followed by a loud gulp, which I could visually see going down her neck. The thought occurred that she was going to eat me. Luckily, this was still in the beginning days of miniaturization, so cannibalism was still taboo.

And then I felt her hand adjust, I was no longer locked in that hot living cage, but instead her thumb and index just grabbed me and suspended me high above the ground, allowing my arms to rest on top of her fingers. I had the briefest moment of respite and I looked down, I was no longer facing her and instead saw the shaggy red carpet that Stephanie had below me. I couldn't tell how far away I was – it was almost like I was over the ocean – it kind of looked the same no matter how far I was, probably well over a 100 yards. I could see her bare feet and exposed legs – her toenails were pink and covered in sparkles, matching her lips.

Then everything was a blur. Rebecca moved her hand, probably at a natural speed, but to a tiny it felt like we were flying a mile a minute, before slamming to a stop. The g forces left me a bit dazed. In front of me, I could Rebecca's yellow skin. I was looking at the area right below her neck, above me were fold of fat that gave her a double chin. To the sides, I could see she had a white tank top on, and could make out a pink bra she was wearing through the thin white material. Then I found myself looking down.

Rebecca wasn't the most beautiful girl. She wasn't ugly my any means – but was no model. She was slightly overweight. Not fat, but in combination with her height made her appear thick, but she didn't appear to be unhealthy looking. Her legs reminded me of a branch, starting off large at the top before thinning down to her feet, which appeared wider than what I presumed it should have.

But this benefited her main assets. She had large breasts, probably D's, and a huge ass. She loved to wear leggings, as she was now, because it created an obvious crease where her butt was. She thought guys liked it, which they did, but the ones who really cared only really saw her as that, and would call her Assbecca .

Below me was the skin on her chest above her tits; I was being held incredibly close to her body. Where I was floating aligned with the gap in her cleavage. The boobs extended out far past me and appeared as big as a 2 or 3 story house – each.

“Down you go!” she squealed with delight. I was in free fall before bouncing into her warm skin on her chest– it smelled of strong perfume, but reminded me of the kind that female soccer players would use to cover their smell during a game. The slope of her chest was almost 90 degrees, but not enough to be completely free fall, so I was tumbling over myself. I landed awkwardly and the law of newtonian mechanics sent me outward and sideways – I no longer was tumbling towards the gap in her cleavage.

The moments where you are in free fall seem to last forever. And, tumbling off this girls chest, finding myself cartwheeling certainly doesn't help. At one moment I could see Rebecca's boobs, the next her chest, the next her face - she was giggling. Then I was staring into the vast emptiness that was Stephanie's room, but I was too far away and moving too quickly to make out anything distinctly – and then I was facing her tits again.

I must have spun two or three times before I landed on the top inner part of one of her boobs, exposed from her low cut top and bra. To show off her “assets” I presumed. The flesh bounced me like a trampoline, but since it was off the inner part of her boob, I was sent at an angle up and towards the other boob, where I was slammed face first with her skin.

It was hot and smelled of a mix of the perfume from earlier, and was a bit musty. Her flesh, like Stephanie's felt like the surface of an alien planet, but was a bit more yellow and oily.

I bounced again, opposite of the way I came, but this not time not as high or as far, and I didn't clear the gap of her cleavage. I was again in free fall, and everything became a dark pink-yellow, and it appeared like I was falling into a slot canyon on an alien planet, the temperature increasing.

I came to a crash on a cotton surface that was her pink bra. It was darker here, but more than enough light poured from cleavage canyon above that I could see quite clearly. The gap between the bottom of her boobs created a sort of triangular shaped pocket, where the bottom of her breasts curved and met the pink of the cotton, below and then to the front. Her skin seemed to be all around me, from her chest in front and boobs toward my side, except above towards her cleavage and behind me, where there was just a pink wall that was her bra.

It was quite warm – the warmest I'd felt being this tiny so far. Not quite enough to start sweating, but if I was forced to do anything slightly arduous I'm sure I would. The alien walls of leathery flesh had a sheen to them, they were more oily than I would have expected. I could see glitter sparkles on her boobs and chest – they were larger than my hand.

“Wow, that looked fun!” Rebecca said in a gleeful voice. I could barely make out her face in the gap between her cleavage – the light was too bright and drowned out most of it. “Have you met my tiny man yet?”

Her tiny man? Since I had landed and looked around I hadn't seen anyone. Then I heard a voice coming from my right.

“...help … me...” The voice was familiar, but hard to make out, sounding like somebody who had just run a mile. I turned to look but couldn't see anyone, the boob sloping downward and in, forming a cavern above her pink bra. It was dark under there and I couldn't see anything.

“... pleeeeease...” it sounded like a wheeze, but the voice was obviously pleading. Since I was already looking I had an easier time pinpointing the voice.

What I saw made me instinctively recoil in horror. There was a hand and leg sticking out from under her fleshy mass.

“...Marcus...” When I heard this I ran forward in an adrenaline surged panic. I knew who it was – Steve, the only other freshman boy on the football team who was also in the classics program. He was the only one to refer to me as Marcus and it instantly made me recognize his voice. I found myself crawling under Rebecca's boob, prone, I could see a tiny gap between her pressed down pink bra and her boob, and could see part of Steve's face – the skin was visibly distorted, like both sides of his face were being pushed together, but giving him barely enough space to breathe through his mouth. He was completely pinned.

“I'll help get your out Steve! Give me a second and I'll wedge myself under and squat; when I give the signal, push up with all your might and roll out.”

I had no idea if it was going to work but I had to try. When I was normal sized I could squat 500lbs 5 times in a set – but now it looked like I was trying to move a boulder.

I had to try.

I wedged myself under her breast, facing away from Steve, and got in as tight as I could go so that my legs were almost at 90 degree angle with the bra floor, in the down squat position.

“Alright Steve, I'm going to start to lift, push with all your might and roll out when you can, ok”

“Ok” Steve whimpered from behind me.

I started to lift, immediately sinking into the pink cotton floor and Rebecca's boob seeming to flow around me, the breast being slightly amorphous. It felt like far more than 500lbs. But adrenaline and fear drove me, and I could feel her boob slowly lifting. It was hot and felt like living leather with a light sheen of oil, and I could feel the drum of her heartbeat through my back. I kept lifting, feeling myself slowly beginning to stand, about halfway to standing full upright, sweat began dripping from my brow.

“...almost there...” I heard Steve saying, sounding less muffled.

I continued to strain, my back felt like it was going to give out – but I kept pushing myself, inching myself up ever so slowly.

Rebecca boomed from above “What are you tinies doing down there?” She gave out a litle teeheehee of a giggle.

I inched up and could hear motion from behind me. Steve was rolling out and I heard him bark, “That's it!” But without Steve's assistance everything felt like it had doubled in weight – I only could hold for a second more before everything gave out, and the boob slammed me down, sending me forward.

I lay gasping on the pink cotton, and could feel sweat dripping from my face. I could hear the smack of Rebecca chewing on her gum above, and the race of my own heartbeat. I was too exhausted to move. But I had to see if Steve was out.

I dragged myself onto my feet and turned around. Steve was still lying under the boob, panting, but no longer trapped. He was face down and he was completely naked. He looked like he'd been through hell. I would later learn that tinies could look far worse.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Rebecca!” I started yelling. But Steve cut me off. I could continue to hear her gum smacking far above.

“Dont even bother” he said, continuing to lie face down. “The bitch can't hear when she's chewing gum like that.”

Really? I'm standing in her cleavage and she can't even hear me? How pathetic were we?

I took off my shirt and handed it to Steve. It was large enough for him to rap himself in like it was a towel around the waist. He thanked me as I turned, allowing him to put it on in peace.

“So you're in this mess too now, Mark? Rebecca is your owner too?” Steve looked sad.

Rebecca is Steve's owner? Jesus. “She just dropped you in here naked and trapped you under her boob?” I ignored Steve's question about my owner as I was more freaked out about what happened to him.

Steve shuddered, “We can talk but lets get closer to her chest, it's safer there.”

So we ran towards her chest, leaning against the warm living wall, with her boobs projecting out in front of us. There was about 5 yards of room between each, enough room for two or three tinies to sit comfortably.

“To answer your question, yes and no” he said. “Rebecca bought me after the midterms and she took me back to her room... and she …” he hesitated. “She treated me like a pet from the beginning. She told me that I was her tiny slave and that I was to make amends for everything men had done wrong in the world, and that if I was good I would be treated well and live a good life as her pet.” He put both hands over his face and sighed.

“That was only about 6 hours ago. Rebecca then decided she wanted to visit her other friends who had tinies, so she threw me in here.” He made a gesture with his hand, sweeping from one breast to the other. “In the process of her walking her boobs jostled me around, and I slowly became pinned under there” he pointed at where I just rescued him from. “At first it was only partially, but the more and more she walked the more enveloped I became. Up until you rescued me I thought I was going to die under there” He shuddered again. “She didn't even notice my pleas. I don't think she would have known I was dead till she took her bra off”

The thought freaked me the fuck out. I heard a booming voice from above - “Oooh Chips!”

Steve put his hands over his chest. “Ugh dude I'm so hungry, I haven't eaten anything since I became tiny”

I wasn't hungry. The only thing I felt was anxiety – or maybe it was dread. I looked up and saw Rebecca start scarfing down chips. She wasn't a particularly dainty eater – she ate with her mouth open and I could hear loud crunching. Soon, I watched a crumb of a chip bounce down her chest and slide along her skin, picking up a sheen of skin oil before sliding to a stop on Steve's shoulder, still pressed again the wall that was Rebecca. Steve looked at me, and then looked at it, as more crumbs came bouncing down from above.

“Don't judge me man” was all he said. He then grabbed the chip and started eating. It seemed partially wet – whether that was sweat or oil I wasn't quite sure. More crumbs continued bouncing around us almost like it was snowing.

Steve ate a few more chips from either Rebecca's chest or the pink floor, whichever was more convenient. He then looked at me and said, “So Rebecca is you're owner now ...”

But before he could finish we both heard the door open. Stephanie must have returned. We were saved!

“Rebecca!” Stephanie yelled. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?!”

“Oh, you know, just grabbing a -”

Stephanie cut her off.

“Where the fuck is Mark?” I heard the giantess step closer.

I could only see Rebecca faintly in the bright white light, but Stephanie must have seen the open doll house.

Rebecca gave a devious smile. “Oh, he's just, visiting a friend.” She was grinning.

“Oh shut up. I can see you're up to no good. Where is he – by god if you hurt him - ” Stephanie was livid.

For the first time since this started I felt something I hadn't felt before. Stephanie was fighting on my behalf – it was a feeling of hope, and an overwhelming joy and relief that i wasn't just completely forgotten. If it wasn't for her...

“What are you going to do? Tinies are just slaves now Steph – they aren't people, just property to be traded. They don't have rights” Rebecca continued to giggle at this statement, like she just beat Stephanie in the argument of the century.

Stephanie huffed. “Well Mark is my property then, and what you are doing is theft! I will hold you fully liable under the law – you'll owe me $10,000 and you will to prison for grand larceny. Return him, now, or I'm calling the police”

Apparently I was worth $10000? That's more money than I even had. I felt insulted yet oddly flattered.

The value of tinies is an interesting note. In the beginning, tinies that lost their personhood were by law granted an automatic value of $10,000.. Eventually the laws were amended to allow women to value the tinies on a contractual basis – de facto allow the market to determine the prices. In practice, this had the effect of decreasing the value of tinies. There were of course a few prized tinies that had high value, but most tinies could be bought and sold at prices that even women in poverty could reasonably afford. Importantly, it was inexpensive enough to be almost no financial burden to replace if broken. That, however, wouldn't occur for another couple of months. Of course the value of tinies fluctuated based on the laws of supply and demand, but within the first two years of President Trent's first term tinies were valued at its lowest - at next to nothing. As another interesting historical note, economists refer to this period of the tiny market as the “1 hour” – for the fact that the average tiny bought or sold during this period was either dead or missing within the hour. This price would not last, however, as eventually the demand outran the supply and values began to increase – but would eventually stabilize during the beginning of Dianne's second term as new “tiny manufacturing” businesses would develop when all men had lost personhood rights. The Madame President had decreased regulations on small businesses- creating an economic boom for tiny related services and products.

With this Rebecca got nervous. “Ok – fine, I was just introducing him to his friend is all.”

Suddenly her pink fingers were parting the slot canyon that was her cleavage – it got brighter for a second before I was pinched between them.

Before I could knew what was happening. I was being hoisted into the air. Steve was still below me.

“Steve!” I yelled, putting out a hand in a futile attempt to reach him. I was already clearing the surface of her cleavage. I could see Steve's face below still. He didn't cry. He just looked sad.

Everything was a blur again, and I found myself landing on a familiar dark palm. It was Stephanie, it smelt slightly of soap, and I quickly felt relief.

“See, he's fine!” Rebecca said in an annoyed voice.

I was lifted up to Stephanie's face, she glanced me up and down. “are you ok?” she said in a hushed voice, but still more than loud enough to sound like a car horn. Her breathe washed over me again, and made it feel like I was in a warm bog for a second.

I simply nodded. I suddenly had a very strange feeling that I never thought I would have in my life. The only way to explain it – I felt like I had found religion. This otherworldly being had just rescued me from a nightmare – a nightmare that I had no hope of saving myself from. It was from this contrasting experience with Rebecca. I realized at this point that whenever Stephanie has wanted she could have done something terrible to me. But she hadn't; she was benevolent. I would never admit it, but I realized then that I no longer viewed Stephanie as a friend – she was a queen, or perhaps even a goddess. I would soon learn that feeling could be ascribed to all women, but she was a good one. And the feeling of a good goddess and bad one are quite different.

“Get out!” Stephanie pointed at the door. Rebecca didn't argue and left in a huff, her big boobs jiggling as she left the room. I wanted to yell for Steve, tell Stephanie to do something, but I couldn't. I was frozen with a mix of relief, fear, love, and horror. I found myself sitting in the room that was Stephanie's hand.

“That bitch... sorry Mark. I'll make sure to lock my doors from now on. It never occurred to me that anything like this would be an issue. Damn girls.” She sighed. “What the fuck was she talking about, introducing you to a friend” she grinned at me - “did you motor boat Rebecca without telling me – and where the hell is your shirt?”

The thought made me reel, especially now. “No...” I said quietly and in a gloomy tone.

Stephanie got the hint and stopped grinning. She just stared at me with dark brown eyes. I looked at her, the palm I was in - it was moving slightly – her pulse rhythmically causing a faint shockwave the felt like a large weight hitting the ground. She was holding me slightly away from her body and under her chin.

“Steve... he was in there... he was... trapped... naked” I started to choke up. Stephanie began to look sad and it compounded my own sadness. I don't think I comprehended it at the time, but I think I instinctively thought if a goddess can be sad, what hope do I have? I began sobbing.

Stephanie's hand curled up a bit and the warmth was comforting, even though I was trapped. I wasn't pinned but I had nowhere to go. She had moved over to the couch and placed her palm in her lap. I could see up her chest now. She was wearing an orange towel, covering from the top of her boobs to her thighs behind me. She was a skinny girl and didn't have big breasts – B's at best. Her other hand was positioned above me, and the finger moved closer – for a second I though she would flick me, but instead she started stroking me like a pet. From my head and down my back, occasionally just lightly swirling my hair. It was surprisingly dainty for something that large. The tip of her finger was easily half the size of my body, in both height and width. The alien texture that was her finger – the warm living leather – felt pleasant on my bare back.

I guess I was so depressed I didn't even mind this bizarre comforting session. It was nice. I continued to cry and Stephanie didn't say anything, other than “it's ok” and continuing to pat me with her finger.

I finally composed myself and looked up at her. I was overwhelmed with awe. I had the sudden urge to prostrate myself to her but my logic prevailed – I wanted to be a person. So I asked a question instead, as her deep brown eyes gazed upon me, her wet dreadlocks draping her shoulders and obscuring parts of her face.

“Am I your slave now – your property? Do you not think of me as a person anymore?” my voice sounded choked from the crying.

Stephanie looked shocked that I would ask. “No – the whole concept is disgusting. This whole thing is disgusting and has just shown me that our generation and our sex might be one of the worst in history.”

This caused me to laugh. She always was a straight shooter. “I may technically 'be your owner' but as far as I'm concerned Mark – you are still my friend, even if you are tiny. And I take care of my own just like any good person would”

The last statement was probably the nicest thing anybody ever said to me. It seemed genuine and almost like she was getting a bit choked up saying it. And, oddly enough, this expression of hers made a strange thought fly across my mind: that it would be a pleasure to be her property – her slave.

But this was a disgusting betrayal to myself and I pushed it from my mind.

I simply said, “Thanks Steph – you're the best friend I've ever had.” The last time I would see her is 3 weeks later, when she transferred me on my first leg that would the underground railroad.