First Deconstruction by Aborigen, 20SEPT00

The Guy Who Gets Shrunk and Falls Into Lurid Sexcapades with an Easy Young Woman

Once there was this average kind of guy, a lot like you so you can pretend it's you while you're masturbating to this story, who was walking down the street when suddenly BAM! He got hit with some kind of scientific experiment gone awry. To, like, about four to six inches. Shock and confusion were of course his first reactions, and then maybe survival instinct, because of course you have to consider how much slower he moves at those proportions. No way could he dodge a car's tire or a neighborhood cat. And if some boys found him, either they'd run him over with their bike tires or boil him with a magnifying glass or something really unsexy but realistic like that. Even if he did find food, it'd probably be some rancid leftovers that would kill him anyway, end of story. Dead little guy. Whee.

So it's very fortunate that the first person who finds him is this very nice and understanding young woman who is also physically desirous. If the guy writing this story is an immature little horndog then she's extremely hot; if the author is a little more grown-up but not much, he tries to be generous and make her a little homely and unexciting, but still with some good physical endowments. I mean, be kind but let's not go mad.

Anyway, so he's standing there on the sidewalk and then she walks up.

"La, la, la," she says. "Here I am minding my own business, doing something that girls do. Oh, my!" she exclaims with surprise, "Here is a tiny little man, lost and confused in the big bad dangerous world!"

"Please don't hurt me, pretty girl!" cries out the little man. "I am very frightened, especially by you and your sexually dominant. . . I mean, enormously threatening size!"

"I will not hurt you!" says the girl. "In fact, I find you strangely attractive and would like to keep you all to myself, forever and ever."

"I also find you strangely attractive," says the little man, "and I think I will be coy and pretend you're leading me into this situation even though you can clearly see my erect penis. Because somewhere in all of this I lost my clothes."

And so the girl cradled the little man in her hands or maybe slipped him into her bra (she's old enough to have a bra; for some reason, you can't even permit yourself to fantasize about underage girls in your private time, and it's more acceptable to objectify women of the age of consent, though if you're talking about simple body parts, what's age got to do with it? Whatever.) and for some stupid reason he didn't go into one of her cups, you know, where her succulent breast is, but is riding on her bra strap and that somehow makes him really happy. She took him home and went straight to her bedroom, though the fact that a teenage girl can live in a nice house in the suburbs with no job and no family is never satisfactorily addressed. But they went to her room and began to have a conversation. You know, before the bocka-wow, the bomp-chicka-bomp-bomp.

"So, what happened to you?" said the hottielicious teen girl, pulling off her shirt.

"I don't know," said the little man, staring at her breasts and flat tummy. "I was just walking along the street, minding my own business, when a scientific experiment gone horribly awry hit me and shrunk me down. We have to find a doctor or somebody to fix me, even though this is clearly physically impossible and even finding researchers who may have toyed with the notion of quantum molecular differentiation would require resources far beyond our means, though if you can afford a well-maintained, 6,000 sq. ft. colonial home in a 2nd-tier suburban town, probably we could score some plane tickets to Berkeley, CA, and talk to some guys there."

"I didn't hear any of that," said the young woman, removing her jeans. "I'm too sexy for my ears to work properly, as you can see by my curvaceous, firm young bottom in frilly lace panties. Observe as I proffer my nubile frame to you, a miniaturized version of a strange man I've never seen before, yet I libidinously take to you like a duck to water." She thought a moment. "A duck that really wants to have sex with water, that is. A duck that, upon finding a strange little shot glass of water, not knowing what's really in it, wants to put it into its body anyway."

Wow, thought the little man, she is a masterful poet as well as being incredibly physically desirous. And easy! My God, I've had a tougher time cutting melted butter. But I have to stop and mention some aspect of her intellectual processes so that the author of this classic work isn't denigrated as completely shallow and two- dimensional, just in case some girls are reading and decide that they may want to have sex with him. "Beautiful young woman," said the tiny man to the well-developed piece of girl-meat, "I trust you completely even though I'm absolutely physically vulnerable and feeling a bit like the only girl at a frat party, and even though I've never met you before and you could twist me to a pulp between your fists or poop on my head or feed me to your cat. Also I'm trusting you're not diseased and about to stuff me into a scorching case of genital warts or something. Also I'm trusting that you're not really a boy."

"And even though I wouldn't give you the time of day at a bus stop, were you normal-sized," replied the girl, "I'm fully prepared to jam you into my most private sexual regions within five minutes of having met you. Shall we?" She laughed to herself. "Oh, that's right. Because you're tiny that means I have to dominate you, so you're going to do whatever I say, I'm so powerful, fee-fi-fo-fum, ho-ho-ho, hello down there, planet Earth is blue and there's nothing I can do, damn the torpedoes, my name is Inigo Montoya, Kansas is goin' bye-bye, k'plah. . ."

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked the little man, puzzled.

The young sexy woman got a blank look on her face, as opposed to the full palette of emotional dynamic she'd heretofore demonstrated. "I have no idea," she said, "I just started going and lost track of what was happening. Anyway, now I'm going to gratify myself with you because all sorts of sexual information and curiosity has been building up in me for the past 18 years and I'm going to take it all out on you. . . .Oh, insert some candid, half-hearted well-wishing for your physical safety here."

"Please be gentle," squeaked the tiny man, and then the young woman scooped him up into her palm and commenced to introduce him to her distended labia and dry vulva. Oh, at some point up there she removed her bra and panties and lied upon the bed. She seized him by his lower legs and somehow he held ramrod straight and resisted the tugging of many dry folds of skin enveloping him. Then he was plunged into her damp moistness and warm hotness, and vigorously thrust in and out of her vaginal passage. Then she climaxed and orgasmed. Then she lay back and let him have his way with her, which entailed crawling up to one breast and playing with her nipple, crawling to the other breast and playing with the other nipple, then crawling back down to her crotch and holding himself before her labia while he ground and thrust his hips into her enormous vulva and he too orgasmed. She probably didn't notice anything but a light, vague rubbing notion but she dutifully made noises like she enjoyed it. Then she washed him off and they curled up and went to sleep and probably did this again and again and again. And he told her frequently that their love was intellectual and spiritual and stuff like that, and she positively glowed from his attention because she had no self-esteem of her own, her self-image was entirely dependent upon the reaffirmation of a shrunken stranger. But there's nothing wrong with that because in an ideal world that stranger would probably be you, wouldn't that be sweet.

The End.