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Hot, drenched in sweat and in the involuntary lubricant coming from Emily’s sex pressed against his face, and thoroughly sore from being contorted, crushed, and nearly flattened by Emily’s comparatively much larger body smashing him against the cheap, clear vinyl of the toiletry bag that was their mutual prison-transport, Anthony found himself trying to imagine himself anywhere else.


Unfortunately, the first thing that came to mind was the last time he’d felt even slightly comfortable; in the too-large bed at the placement center pod. That thought immediately followed with the recollection of Grace’s hand plucking him out of his slumber and condemning him to his current predicament.


The next furthest back attempt at a peaceful retreat into his mind came the last night he and Emily had spent together. In truth a fairly vanilla night of playing around, but again, it immediately lead to the memory of waking up shrunken, and the humiliating journey to the placement center; being carried by Emily, being made to ride in a spent delivery box, being so insignificant to his would be rescuer that the Nile delivery lady never even learned his name.


It felt as though Emily had fallen asleep, a luxury afforded to her by the fact that she was apparently over three times his size, and many times his mass. Anthony couldn’t fathom sleeping through this, but in truth, if he could have, he probably would have. There was nothing to do in the confines of the toiletry bag, and the only reason Anthony hadn’t passed out was the oppressive press of Emily’s body against his. She slept fitfully, which prevented Anthony from ever even becoming accustomed or settled in his prison of plastic, thighs, pubic hair, and vaginal secretions. Every time Emily shifted, even slightly, Anthony was contorted along for the ride. Her thighs were many times thicker, and stronger, than his neck, and even the most minute adjustment of her own restrained position in the toiletry bag visited on Anthony a new strain against his already taxed muscles and bones.


Everything around anything had jostled, hard, an impact from a high place, followed by an agonizing period of stillness. Emily woke almost immediately, and began to fight against the restraint, a fight which caused Anthony no end of pain. Her very brief struggles, before she seemed to remember where she was, and how vulnerable Anthony was, pulled at Anthony’s neck and something collided with his leg, pushing it far out of its normal range of motion. Anthony’s muffled cries seemed to bring Emily out of her panic.


“Oh, sorry, Tony, I kind of forgot you were down there.” Emily said.


Anthony tried to ask how someone could forget a person buried cheekbone-deep in their pussy, but it apparently came out garbled.


“Hey! Hey! Cut that out! I can’t hear a word you’re saying, and trust me now’s not the time to be practicing your oral, er, your oration.” Emily gave a squeeze of her thighs, and Anthony obligingly silenced his protests.


“I think we’ve arrived. I can’t hear the car anymore.” Emily noted. “What do you think she’s going to do?”


Anthony’s response was lost in Emily’s sex, and Emily squeezed his head again.


“Seriously, stop. I was being rhetorical. Although… you dated her, I do actually want to know what you think she’s going to do to us.” 


Their banter was interrupted by the sound of the bag’s zipper being pulled open. Anthony was alarmed at how loud the zipper sounded, even through his flesh-and-blood earmuffs. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, light returned to Anthony’s world, albeit, in a limited capacity. He could tell that the bag had been unzipped, even if the compartment he and Emily were wedged into hadn’t been opened.


A moment later, a rush of cold air and the feeling of being pulled out of a cheap vinyl car seat on a hot summer day created a bizarre mixture of sensations. Emily’s pulse quickened, her breathing sped up and shallowed as well. Grace was likely standing right over them.


Anthony felt something massive close around one of his ankles and was treated to the unique sensation of being peeled off of Emily’s more massive form. The whole experience was upsetting, but his cheeks sticking to the inside of Emily’s thighs from sweat as he was pulled free, a like a sticker from the skin of fruit made the sudden rush of fresh air a mixed blessing.


Adding to the ‘con’ side of his current situation, Anthony was hanging by an ankle bathed in a brilliant white light that he was struggling to adjust to. He hung by his ankle, dripping with Emily’s sweat, as his eyes adjusted to the light. The world came into focus and Anthony wished it hadn’t. Before him was the impossibly huge face of his ex-girlfriend and current caseworker, Grace Noble. Grace’s smililing lips parted to reveal her brilliant white teeth as she saw the comprehension and realization spread across Anthony’s face.


“Hi, Tony, did you have a nice ride?” Grace asked. “Oh, it looks like you might have been a bit cramped in there. You really should stretch after long periods of inactivity.”


Anthony was still trying to process what was happening when Grace’s other hand grabbed one of his dangling arms and pulled. Not hard enough to tear the arm off, or even dislocated it, although Anthony had no doubt that she could. No, Grace was just showing Anthony how little control he had over the situation. Grunting and trying to fight her off, Anthony acheived little from his efforts as once Grace was done with one arm and leg pairing, she moved onto the next, passing his limbs between her huge fingers before viciously, to Anthony, tugging on Anthony’s limbs, very thoroughly stretching all of his arms and legs.


“There we go.” Grace said, letting Anthony hang by a wrist. “It’s important that you keep fit, especially at your small size. A stethoscope would likely crush you if someone tried to listen to your heartbeat, although it’s great for listening to someone caught in your stomach.”


Anthony had heard enough. He began fighting against the thumb and index finger pinched around his wrist, trying to push them apart.


“Hey, now.” Grace scolded. “You don’t want to do that. You probably wouldn’t survive the fall. And even if you did, it’s real easy to get lost down there and stepped on.”


Anthony looked down, for the first time taking in his surroundings other than Grace. The room they were in was relatively dark, save for the brilliant lights set up around plain white back drop behind Grace. Below him, there was a table, again a sterile white save for some rust colored stains which carried horrifying implications. Emily was on that table. Transferred from the toiletry bag to the table top where she watched Grace with aprehension. All around there were LED lights, ring lights, and what Anthony guessed were camera mounts, some of them with equipment locked into place, some of them empty.


“Let us go, Grace, you won’t get away with this!” Anthony shouted.


Grace laughed, bouncing Anthony up and down as she did. “What are you, some kind of comic book character? ‘You won’t get away with this’? Who talks like that.”


Anthony’s world turned into a rollercoaster as Grace lowered him to the table top. The trip down was only a foot or so, but to Anthony it was like falling from a building. When she released him to the relatively clean plastic top, Anthony fell more than his height but landed relatively safely.


“And besides, you idiot, even if I were to get caught later, and that’s a big fucking ‘if’, it wouldn’t change the fact that you…” Grace poked Anthony in the chest as he tried to stand up, sending him tumbling backward. “are already here. I’ve already ‘gotten away with this’. So hang up the stupid comments.”


“Won’t someone notice we’re missing from the placement center?” Emily asked. Anthony could hear the hope in her voice, and the thought of some pencil pusher for the government finding their pods empty swelled the hope within Anthony as well.


“Yeah! You’re going to get caught! They’re going to throw you in prison for this shit, you psycho!” Anthony shouted at Grace.


Grace’s expression soured at Anthony. He yelped as the perfectly french manicured nail of her index finger came down on him, pressing into his abdomen and pinning him to the table.


“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Grace said, her vision moving from Emily back to Anthony. “and you asked so shittly; no. No one will notice you’re missing from the placement center. The both of your files have been completely expunged, the records of your admission have been wiped, by the placement center’s standards, you two never came into our care.”


“But…” Emily protested. “How? And people will have seen us!”


“Well, I’m glad you asked, I like a little inquisitiveness.” Grace lifted her nail from Anthony, but his relief was short lived as she simply readjusted her finger, still pinning him but letting him breathe and talk. “Tony, do you remember what I do for a living?”


Anthony froze, his hands trying to wrest Grace’s finger from where it kept him in place on the table. “I… uh” Anthony was notoriously bad at stalling, but this should’ve been easy, they’d dated for months. “You work at the placement center!” He threw out. Technically correct.


“Technically correct, but ‘placement center worker’ isn’t what’s on my door or my desk. You wanna try again?” Grace’s finger pulled away from Anthony, and she began drumming her nails on the table top. “Maybe think back to any one of the dozens of conversations we had about my day over the months we dated? Hmmm?” All around Anthony, Grace’s nails rose and fell, each tap of the nail on the plastic a giant trunk crashing down. Anthony scuttled backward. Although Grace’s fingers weren’t falling directly on him, it was too much to be between them as she drummed her nails impatiently.


“Well, Tony? What do I do at the placement center?” Grace asked again.


“I don’t know, be a complete psycho bitch?” Anthony spat back.


Grace chuckled, but it was clear her demeanor had not improved. “We’re going to work on that mouth of yours, Tony. But, no. I am not a ‘complete psycho bitch’ at work, that’s what I do for fun and profit. At work I am the senior software engineer for the State Department of Diminished Persons Placement. I not only wrote the software every placement center in the state uses, I also maintain it, and periodically audit it for accuracy and bugs. There is exactly one person in the world who could ‘catch’ me, and that’s me.”


“Then why were you processing our entry?” Emily asked.


“My, aren’t you observant. Well, the state is broke, and while my job originally just involved writing the software, it now includes maintaining it, checking it, and also doing every-goddamn-thing at our local center. So I get to be the one to check you in, process your account, and see you through every step of the process until your final placement. Neither of your records exist any longer, nor does any record of me deleting them.”


“But, people will have seen us, they’ll know we went missing.” Emily countered.


Grace chuckled. “Well, that’s the other part of why I will absolutely get away with this; how many people did you interact with from the time you shrank until the time I brought you here?” Grace asked Emily.


Emily thought for a moment. “There was you, uh, and the Nile delivery lady. Oh and the receptionist at the placement center!”


Anthony’s attention span was waning, and he wasn’t going to wait around to see what Grace had planned. He got to his feet to begin sprint toward the edge of the table, but that meant running toward Grace. He felt the plastic table beneath his bare feet and was sure he’d be able to make it to the edge. From there he’d have to play it by ear, but his escape was in progress. He made it two steps before Grace’s finger came back around to poke him back to the ground.


Grace shook her head in disappointment at Anthony before responding to Emily. “That’s right, you both confirmed that with me during your processing. You also both told me that you never reached out to anyone. Neither of you recall giving your names to the Nile employee, and neither of you got her name. Admittedly, Nile will have a record of their delivery to the house, but if my understanding is correct, she probably won’t even mention finding you. And since she delivered you to the placement center, her involvement is completely done.”


“The receptionist?” Emily asked, but the hope had drained from her voice, she sounded like she expected the kind of answer Grace would give. “Won’t she speak up?”


“Eliza is worthless, she can’t even remember to complete her time reporting correctly, and four years in she still thinks my name is ‘Gretchen’, so I don’t think there’s too much danger there. No, you two are gone.” Grace stated flatly.


Anthony watched Emily’s shoulders sink as Grace spoke. Every word of Grace’s explanation was another door shut on their ability to escape.


“Hey now, don’t look so glum.” Grace said. “You’re going to be alright.”


Grace picked up Emily from where she had collapsed on the table. Anthony was forced to watch as Grace’s hand wrapped around Emily’s torso and pulled her up to speak with her.


“Look, for what it’s worth, I’m kind of sorry this happened to you. The shrinking, and especially being associated with this asshole. I’m not going to lie to you, the next few weeks are going to be hard on you. But you’re very cute, and decently built, if you’re obedient, I can see you getting handed off to one of my friends who treats their shrunken toys very well.”


“‘Toys’?” Emily asked in disbelief.


“Yes, hell, as cute as you are, I might even find a permanent place for you here.” Grace offered. But I’ve got to be sure you’re going to be obedient, and useful.”


Grace set Emily back down, far more gently than she had when she’d dropped Anthony.


“And what happens if you don’t think I’m useful?” Emily asked.


“Well…” Grace said, her index finger trailing a long stain on the table. “I think you know that there are plenty of ways for me to get rid of a piece of trash that’s only six inches long.” Grace punctuated the statement by balling her fist and bringing it down on the table, sending shockwaves through the tabletop that rocked Emily off her feet.


"I’ll never be useful to you, you psycho bitch!” Anthony screamed out, shocked by the impact into action.


Grace’s countenance fell again, reminded of Anthony’s existence, and of his attitude. “Don’t worry, Tony. I’ll find ways for you to be useful to me. If you be good, it’ll just be uncomfortable, humiliating, and occasionally really, really, painful.” Her finger retreated again, but this time she reached out and picked Anthony up in her fist. Unlike Emily, who had been handled with a gentle regard, and who’s head and feet still emerged from Grace’s grasp, Anthony found himself enclosed in a prison of Grace’s hand. She brought him right up to her face, her fingers right next to her mouth as she spoke. The sound of her spite-drenched words was almost overwhelming, but it was a secondary concern for Anthony.


“But if you keep being a little shit…” Grace promised, her grip tightening around Anthony’s body. The light from between her fingers started to dim, and Anthony couldn’t even move as she constricted her fingers around him. He started to scream. As he drew in a breath to scream he could feel the heat from Grace’s breath as she continued. “Then you won’t have to worry about anything for very long.”


She continued to squeeze, the pressure on Anthony becoming painful. “I’ll just need to think of ways to clean what’s left of you out from under my nails.” She said, applying still more of her strength to the crushing grip. “Or from the sole of my foot.”


Anthony’s screams were having no effect, but it mattered little because he was so tightly compacted in Grace’s hand that he could no longer draw breath to scream. He could feel his bones straining as she slowed the application of pressure, but it grew more and more painful.


“Or maybe I won’t bother, since you’re so small…” The pressure disappeared. Grace’s hand opened, and Anthony was able to breathe again, laying on her palm, but his horror didn’t end. Now that her hand was open he was closer than he could recall to her bare teeth. Two rows of gleaming white enamel framed with brilliant red crimson lips. “Maybe I’ll just let the sewage line take care of what’s left of you.”


Anthony screamed as Grace’s teeth opened and moved toward him. He curled into a ball and clenched his eyes shut in her palm as the teeth lunged forward snapping shut with a deafening clack. When he opened his eyes he saw Grace’s teeth and lips again, consuming his whole view as they were impossibly close. Anthony was frozen in terror, he could feel his pulse in his skull, he could feel his chest heaving, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak, to scream, or even to move.


Grace’s lips pursed forward, catching Anthony as they did. Her kiss was long, and her lips pressed him into her palm. Considering he’d nearly been crushed in her grip just a moment ago, and the ride here had been between the thighs of someone three times his size, it wasn’t the most oppressive sensation he’d experienced, but it was still far more weight and pressure than was comfortable. He groaned at Grace's hand pulled him in to the kiss and when she finally released it with an audible pop, he felt sticky.


Grace laughed. "Well, it has been a long, hot day, can't expect the color to hold up after a ten hour shift in ninety degree heat." Grace lowered him down to the table on her palm, and unceremoniously dumped him off. Before her hand retreated, Anthony could see the lipstick smeared over her palm and fingers, looking down he saw the same bright crimson coating him.


“We’ll have to get you cleaned up before we really get started, you tasted like sweaty pussy anyway. So much for my favorite scent.” Grace said. “But first, I’ve got to get changed.”


Grace leaned in, letting her chest fall forward. Both Anthony and Emily scrambled to avoid getting caught under the massive mammories as the fell to the table top, just behind Grace’s folded arms, on which she rested her head.


“Now look, this is going to be your first real test. Fucking this up would be a really bad idea. This place is really small, and about an half hour outside of town. There is no internet here, and even if you did make it off the table, up the stairs, and some how out the door; the only thing that you would find is a hot summer night, and probably a cat or a coyote eager for an easy snack.”


“Hell, down here there’s not even any extra rooms, the shower is just right over there.” Grace indicated somewhere beyond the table’s white backdrop. “but before I go get clean, I want you to repeat after me.”


Grace pointed idly at Emily, without even unfolding her arms. “There is no escape.”


Emily froze in place. “There is no escape?”


“That didn’t sound convicing, little one. Try it again, and show me that you mean it by getting on your knees when you say it.” Grace commanded.


Emily looked to Anthony, but he couldn’t offer her any alternative. Slowly, almost like her body weren’t under her control, Emily turned from where she had been sitting on the table, to her hands and knees. She hung her head low and restated.


“T… th… there is no escape.” She said.


“Very good, because you did so well, you get a special treat. While I’m showering, and getting ready, you get to stay out here, on the table.” Grace said, her voice elated at Emily’s performance. “Now say ‘thank you, mistress.’ You will always need to thank me when I do something for you.”


“Thank you, mistress.” Emily said. The fear and despair welling up in her voice.


“Oh that is so wonderful. I have such high hopes for you!” Grace said, the cheer still in her voice. “Now, you.” All of the cheer drained in a matter of two sylables as she turned to Anthony. “You have a very good chance here to start off on the right foot with me. I’m willing to overlook your infidelity, your shitty attitude before, and I’m even willing to forget that you never once put the fucking toilet seat down. Get on your hands and knees, and say ‘there is no escape.’” Grace rested her head sideways on her folded arms, regarding Anthony with a casual disdain.


Anthony looked at Emily, now shuddering, but still on her hands and knees, her head hung low. He looked back at Grace, who’s face showed waning patience, he’d seen it before. Something snapped in Anthony, some kind of dam against his anger and fear and confusion. He leapt to his feet and pointed right at Grace.


“Fuck you, psycho bitch! You can go to hell.” He screamed.


He heard Emily gasp and turn to look at him wide eyed, but it was Grace’s exaspirted sigh that drew more attention, even her exhalation was impactful to Anthony’s dimished size as her sigh knocked him back on his ass.


“Well, I can’t say I didn’t expect it. You’re lucky I’m so goddamn generous, you idiot, or you’d already be a stain on the table.” Grace lifted herself from where she rested, now looming directly over Anthony and Emily. “Or maybe it’s the opposite of generosity.” She mused as her hand reached out for Anthony. “Maybe I’m just looking forward to seeing what kinds of tormets I can put you through.”


There was no dodging her hand, and Anthony again found himself wrapped in her fingers. This time he was only briefly held until he felt her hand turn him over and suddenly released. He screamed as he fell, and he fell further than he’d ever fallen, or at least it felt farther than he’d ever fallen.


Anthony expected an impact, he expected the ground to stop his fall abruptly and fatally. Instead as he fell, he hit something while still falling, something soft. It sent him tumbling, but he quickly found more and more of the soft material around him as he fell. His descent ended not in a bone shattering stop, but an gentle elastic cradle.


Immediately Anthony was assaulted by the smell. He cried out in disgust, and then wretched as he mistaken took a breath through his nose, the pit he found himself in didn’t really allow for him to stand, it was like a trampolene that had been worn out, and stank. The pit lifted and he realized he could see through the walls of this bizarre prison a bit.


He had only a moment of dawning realization before Grace’s hand siezed him through what he now recognized at fabric and started rolling him loosely inside the fabric.


“These socks aren’t really fresh.” Grace casually observed, as she rolled Anthony’s squirming body up in one of her socks. She worked from where Anthony fell to the toe, and ended up with a tidy, if not tightly wound, cylinder of sock, with a squirming, screaming Anthony at it’s core. “Good, you seem to be able to breathe in there. I wouldn’t want you to suffocate, at least not yet.”


Anthony could still see a bit, he was bound in what felt like a mile of sweat crusted, rank fabric, but he head was at least near the edge of the roll. He tried to fight he way out, but his arms and legs were immobilized by the roll.


“But I don’t want to take the chance you’ll get out.” Grace said, he could hear her moving around, and heard something slap down on the table, a moment later, all light was extinguished for Anthony, and the pungent stench intensified tenfold. “I once had a little man escape the sock roll…” he could still hear Grace although it was muffled. “But no one has ever gotten out of the sock roll stuffed into the slipper. I want you to think about how you want the rest of your life to go, Tony, and when I’m done with my shower, I expect you to have changed your attitude. Now you, little one” Anthony could tell Grace was talking to Emily. “You did well, but I have a new task for you; no one’s ever gotten out of there, and I don’t expect he’ll be able to, but I want you to ensure that Tony doesn’t leave his prison until I take him out of it, do you understand?”


Very faintly, muffled by the sock and the slipper prison around him, Anthony’s heart sank as he heard Emily’s immediate, eager response.


“Yes, mistress!”

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