Oct 4


Dear Diary,

     I had gone through extensive self-revelation the past few days, and the emotion that seemed to dominate most of my actions was aggressive anger-not something I was entirely proud of.  From the corner of my consciousness shone a scrap of longing for stability-for someone to have as my little pet… cloaked not in disgust or rage, but security and companionship.  Compassion, however, had eluded me up to this point.  Kindness can shatter as well as soothe, even when it came from the truest of intentions.  One thing that I'd learned over my hiatus was that it took shitloads of energy and resolve to maintain anger-and rationalization was completely unachievable during a fit of rage.  Surely there was an antidote for my prior state of mind, a calming buffer … I thought of Tony… could he be the soothing balm I sought?  How would he feel under the mantle of my compassionate caring? Would he accept it, embrace it, cherish it as a gift?  It would make the situation much more pleasant if he did…

     Armed with my new and improved determination to be less angry I faced my day today.

     I had easily gotten a job for an ambulance service out here in the wild, wild west.  I signed up to work the hometown professional football team's game today.  We had specially made golf carts to wander around in, and a quiet little alcove in which to sit like a forgotten necessity until someone needed a Band-Aid or directions to the restrooms. I basked in my invisibility.  I sat in my golf cart and I watched the hundreds and hundreds of people walk by like a grazing herd of buffalo.  Most were non-descript, but all shared one thing… complete oblivion that at any moment I could totally change their lives forever.  I was history waiting to happen.  Unaware, they laughed, yelled, held hands, ate their $5 hot dogs and drank their $8 beer.  Invisible, like a stalker in the night, I sat in my golf cart and watched.  I don't know if words alone can convey the level of enthralled sensations I felt in a voyeuristic, peeping Tom way.  My power, although untested, lay coiled inside me like a cobra ready to strike.  I ached to test it, to see if I still possessed the magic… but with a quiet calm borne only of wisdom and confidence, I knew the magic was there… I felt it, I felt it tilt my chin at a cocky angle, put a twinkle in my eye and fill me with an infallible strength.  It wasn't that I was nothing without the magic… but with it, I was everything.

     My team and I received a call for a heat-related illness-our most common complaint.  It just wasn't possible to consume as much fluid as the greedy desert sun extracted.  We put the lady on our way cool golf cart and crept through the halftime crowd like an air bubble through a straw.  Suddenly yanked out of my quiet alcove, the flashing blue lights and loud, irritating beep that sounded like an over-size truck backing up shined the spotlight on me and I became the center of attention.  As I yelled, “Excuse us!” or, “Move to your left or right, please!” catcalls floated out of the crowd… voices from almost unseen faces.  Unseen except for one young, preppy 20-something year old guy who clearly cupped his mouth and yelled, “Hey!!  I need some mouth to mouth!”  My searching gaze pinned him with my icy eyes and he froze like a wild animal caught in the headlights of a car.  My glacier look turned his tongue to a block of ice and the coldness of fear washed over him like a Colorado mountain stream.  He blindly reached for one of his buddies, finding a handful of Abercrombie and Fitch shirt of the friend in front of him.  He tossed a terrified look over his shoulder as he stumbled away, his face a mask of crazy shock and hope that a creature resembling the Headless Horseman was not pursuing him

I hadn't tried to shrink him, my attempt at being sweet-tempered and benevolent was stressed but not yet fractured.  They're (all of the men doing the catcalls and grabbing their crotches) general disrespect disgusted me as much as it angered me.  As I stood outside the first aid station, the warm sun a molten gold soaking into me, a huge longing to shrink the entire stadium and teach them a shred of respect filled me.  I wanted to hear their pleas for forgiveness, I hungered for their worship.  My desires threatened a coup d'etat on my self-control, a hostile takeover that would shame any Colombian rebel with its fierceness and totality.  My arms started to rise, as if I was trying to embrace the whole stadium and I felt my self-control losing footholds in the loose gravel of demanding anger, disgust and desire.  

In a final, retaliatory surge, my determined self-control blanketed the harsh flames of the desires threatening to overtake me.  Calmness contributes to strength, but true strength and power originate with perfect self-control. Not now, not this way.  The stadium and all the worthless assholes in it belonged to me, I could take them whenever I wanted… but this wasn't the time.  With my surprisingly thwarted desires shocking me like static electricity with every step, I walked back to my golf cart.

I was fixing dinner for Tony tonight, but first I took some time for a bubble bath.  I stood in the hot water, the skin on my feet and ankles turned bright red as if I'd been sunbathing in the afternoon desert sun with only them exposed.  The hot bubbles bare-handedly spanked each inch of me as I lowered myself into the tub, leaving my skin cherry red.  I exhaled my day with a deep, satisfying sigh and felt the warmth of the water tickle my muscles.  I had the overhead light off and the only illumination came from a few flickering candles on the sink.  I closed my eyes and the flames from the candle caused little yellow goblins to flash hypnotically in front of my eyelids.

My imagination assumed command of my thoughts… willingly leading me to see, hear, smell and feel Tony in the bathroom with me.  Instead of his glorious 6'5” frame, he was closer to 1.5” and he was reverently standing on the wide, slippery expanse that was the lip of the tub.  He was too small for me to see his expressions, but I absorbed his feelings by an intuitive magical coupling.  He wanted me.  Badly.  He wanted to experience me, simply touch me, more than he wanted to breathe.  His heart was a boulder in his throat as he gazed at me because I was the most breathtakingly beautiful creature he'd ever seen.  I floated on his appraisal while pretending to not know he was there.  I raised the soapy leg closest to him out of the water and rested it on the faucet.  I sat up a bit, hints of my breasts teasingly peeked through bubbles, and slid my hands from my thigh to my foot in a long languid caress.  The mural of my tattoo was directly in front of him, painted on a skyscraper of calf.  The yin/yang alone was almost taller than his entire body.  He swayed on his thumbtack-size legs, breathlessly close to passing out from his bewilderment, awe and totally joyous appreciation for his Goddess.  I reveled in teasing him, in feeling like I was taller than the Eiffel tower, more powerful than Mother Nature.

My hand inched back up my perfect leg and paused at my knee.  Seemingly carelessly, I rested my hand on the edge of the tub and reclined once again.  My hand easily spanned the tennis court sized lip, my index finger was just a whisper away from him.  He gazed, riveted, at the amazing fingernail that was waist high and as wide as him.  His hand trembled as he extended it towards me, as if his arm was torturously out of his control and was making him reach to touch the sun itself.  Trancelike, despite his trepidation of being burned, he reached to me, he had to feel me, experience my divinity.  His entrancement almost equaled my lust.  I opened my hand and moved it towards him, a giant wall of hot flesh advanced on him greedily… when a soft voice from the doorway roughly jerked me out of my bubble-bath dream…

“The door was unlocked,” Tony's sweet voice caressed my ears.

     My eyes drank him in as he filled the doorway to my bathroom.  I think that the desire in my eyes was camouflaged somewhat by the dim lighting, but I didn't trust my voice to not betray me, so I just replied, “mmmmmm.”

     I watched him watch me with a look not unlike the one I'd imagined on his tiny counterpart.  Although I didn't share the same cosmic connection with him yet, I still felt his appreciation of me like electricity after a lighting storm.  

His voice husky with emotion, like he'd smoked two packs of Pall Malls, he said, “Enough room for me in there?”

     I laughed a merry laugh.  The irony of his innocent remark deeply amused me.  Just seconds prior, to him the bathtub was as big as a lake with a gorgeous Giantess lounging in it.  And now he asked if there was room enough for him.  My laugh shook me with its honesty and tears squeezed out of the corners of my eyes.  He smiled a bit uncomfortably, not sure if I was laughing at him or if he'd somehow missed a joke.

     He was definitely more a man of action than a man of words, a quality that was endearing as well as infuriating-generally simultaneously.  He stepped into the bathroom, ducking his handsome head a bit to fit under the doorjamb.  He grabbed the thick towel off the rack and held it out like he was auditioning for a Zest commercial.  I stood up with as much grace as a gazelle (wishful thinking) and stepped over the edge of the tub.  Another burst of giggles erupted from me like machine gun fire as I pictured myself stepping over a row of tennis courts.

     Tony, still at a loss as to the source of my sudden and uncontainable mirth, wrapped the big towel snugly around me, spinning me so that my back was to his front.  He leaned down and tenderly pressed his lips to first one shoulder then the other.

     My head lolled loosely forward to my chest and I leaned back against him.  At that instant, my mind was clearly and doubtlessly made up.  He was going to be my pet… my tiny, perfect toy.

     I'd planned a beautiful dinner of chicken Kiev, rice and something green… but instead, we sat side by side on the couch and shared Chinese delivery.  I'd gotten a good bottle of Riesling to go with the chicken, and although my inclinations leaned towards red with Chinese food, the bottle of white was… special.  I'd given the wine my own blessing and insisted that everyone drank wine with Chinese when he'd raised his eyebrows at the bottle and wineglasses.

     I could barely sit still as I ate, I kept peeking at him from under the veil of my eyelashes.  Impatience, excitement and lingering desire all skipped through me… they did the wave in a huge cheer for the finale.

     My confidence stumbled a bit as he took sip after sip of wine without any noticeable effect on his stature.  I swallowed a bite of moo goo gai pan and peeked at him again.  It felt like an invisible ice-cold hand wrapped around me when I noticed that he did indeed seem a little smaller.  It was working, holy shit, I did it!  He appeared oblivious to the fact that the chopsticks seemed just a tad larger in his long-fingered hand.  I smiled.

     He took a sip of wine.

     My excitement quadrupled, I was a coiled bed of live wires as he shrank even smaller.  I felt like the most powerful thing in the world… unstoppable

     He took a sip of wine.

     My breath caught as I saw him hesitate after setting the glass back on the coffee table.  He flexed his hand, fanning his fingers as his brow furrowed.  I sneaked a look at his face… it conveyed a bit of confusion, but otherwise remained calm.

     I refilled his wineglass, a subtle subconscious encouragement for him to drink more.  Obligingly, he did just that.  His body was quite obviously smaller now, and I felt the questions race through his mind.  What the fuck was going on?  Was the food bad, was he food poisoned?  Was it the wine?  He chanced a look at me, and realized that we were unnaturally shoulder to shoulder.  I felt him recoil slightly in fear.  I drank from my wineglass, soundlessly proving that the wine was beyond reproach (at least as far as I was concerned.)  He reached for his and drank deeply, but his hand shook as he sat the glass down.  The wine crashed against the sides like the tide on a beach.  I closed my eyes and imagined his distress.  I imagined how much heavier the crystal glass felt, how everything was becoming distorted and disproportionate.  His dilemma was a reality… should he turn to me, ask me, admit he felt… odd?

     I scooted closer to him, his knee brushed my thigh, another silent reminder of his size change.  It was enough to break his silence, he cleared his throat and asked, “Ahh.. is everything, ummm.. does anything seem… ahh… different… to you?”

     I looked at him, my eyes flashed irritation, and replied, “No, what's different?”

     “mmm… well… nevermind… be right back.”

     He stood up, presumably to go to the bathroom, and froze when he realized his pants had fallen to the floor, although he was still covered by his sagging polo shirt.  His shoes looked and felt like Bozo clown shoes on his feet.  He looked at me, terrified and bewildered, searching my face for an answer.

     It was entirely impossible to ignore his current predicament, given his mostly naked state.  His eyes pleaded with me for an explanation, any explanation.  I was choked with the success of my power and couldn't immediately speak.  His helpless pitifulness was driving me insane with desire.  Even as he stood there seeking answers, the coffee table went from knee to mid-thigh level. I closed my eyes and covered the lower half of my face with one of my hands, desperately trying to corral my stampeding excitement.

     I opened my eyes and smiled at him, heartfelt joy split my face in a 1,000 watt grin.  Maybe it was reassuring to him, but I rather thought I looked like an insane clown smirking down at him.  I didn't exactly know how to explain… so I simply said, “yeah, it's me.”

     The expression on his much smaller face transformed from fear and questioning to a disturbed understanding of the situation.  With a voice that trembled with emotion, he tried to sound strong and authoritative (difficult with a voice that had risen an octave with his tinier vocal chords) when he said, “Stop it.  Stop it now… and make me like I was.”

     I didn't reply, simply shook my head and took a bite of his sweet and sour chicken.  His body shook with outrage at my nonchalance.  I think he considered advancing on me before realizing that he was less than half my size and really didn't stand a chance with a forward assault.  And with that realization came the only remaining option… retreat.  He stepped out of his huge shoes and padded at a walk/jog towards the front door.  As quick as a rattlesnake, I jumped up and blocked the door.  Indecision halted him momentarily while he desperately searched for an alternative.  With his eyes brimming with tears, he beseeched me, “please, please, please make it stop… I don't want this, I don't like this… what are you doing to me?  Why?”

     I shrugged and said, “Because I want to, that's enough.”  The tears escaped his eyes and streamed down his cheeks.  “I'm going to shrink you as tiny as I want, Tony.  There's nothing you can do to stop me, there are no other options as far as that's concerned.  Your only choice is how you're going to deal with it.  You can stand there and cry and whine, but your tears stand no chance of stopping me. Or you could see the bright side, the silver lining so to speak.”

     I let my little colloquy sink in.  His head hung down and he occasionally jerked as a sniffle tore through him.  I gave him time to make up his mind… he was a confused, lost puppy… recently ripped from his mother and now forced to decide if I was salvation or despair.  I became bored with his indecision and proportions, so while he pored his situation over, I stole a few more inches and a bigger chunk of his resolve from him.  He was now less than two feet tall, and I had no intention of stopping yet.  I don't think that I could halt my desire this time, it was in full driving force, unwilling to be frustrated… demanding full satiation. I think that somehow he felt that he was making a sacrifice for my lust, and that it intrigued him, maybe even excited him in a macabre way.  He lifted his head and looked around him.  I couldn't imagine how things looked to him.  He was shorter than my stereo speakers, dwarfed by the 61” television… and me?  How did I look to him?  My heart raced as his eyes finally rested on me… and I knew… I felt his acquiescence, his desire, his acceptance of his new role.  I couldn't stop myself from immediately shrinking him to a minute 2”… my arousal was an out of control train racing brakeless down a steep and curvaceous mountain.  I couldn't wait another second, I had to appease the thundering cravings between my legs.  I didn't hesitate long enough to slip my skirt down my legs, I sank to my knees and grabbed his tiny, tiny body in my hand.  I slid him up my inner thighs, my juices flowed like the Nile as I felt his miniscule roughness against the silkiness of my legs… I arched my back as my fingers pressed him to my clit… a huge mountain of pink, hot flesh to him, a button of pure bliss to me… I rubbed him against me in feverish circles, yanking an arch in my back and moans from my soul… he was mine, he was mine… I spread my legs as far as the skirt would allow, and jerked my hips against him, against my demanding fingers in a frenzied rhythm… mine, mine… the orgasm built from somewhere between my mind and my loins and spread like hot oil through every inch of me… spasm after spasm of pure ecstasy spread through me until I collapsed, finally sated, on the floor.  

     As I returned from the joys of heaven to the present, I scrambled to find Tony.  I couldn't find him, couldn't find him… oh, shit… had I drowned him, crushed him?  I probed between my lips carefully… I felt his small body and gently plucked him from my pussy's prison.  He laid on my hand, but he was too small for me to see if he was still alive.  I blew on him softly, not knowing exactly how to do mouth to mouth on someone so microscopic.  I felt him stir in my palm and relief flooded through me.  I lifted him to my mouth and kissed him… I tasted my juice on him, and felt another stirring of lust.  I chose not to bathe him, I wanted him to fully awaken with my scent, my presence, my ownership all over him.  I covered the bottom of a juice glass with a few cotton balls and dropped him in.  I put the glass on my night stand, said a quick prayer to whomever the Goddess of mornings was that I would wake up in a good mood and drifted off to satisfied sleep.