Summary: When an insomniac and a nymphomaniac meet at an isolated boarding house in rural Australia they begin to notice a series of incredibly peculiar coincidences, and over the following two weeks experience unimaginable highs and lows as they learn to live with themselves and be with each other.
Categories: Giantess,
Adventure,
Breasts,
Body Exploration,
Butt,
Entrapment,
Fantasy,
Feet,
Footwear,
Gentle,
Humiliation,
Odor Characters: None
Growth: None
Shrink: Doll (12 in. to 6 in.), Lilliputian (6 in. to 3 in.), Micro (1 in. to 1/2 in.), Munchkin (2.9 ft. to 1 ft.)
Size Roles: F/m
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 4
Completed: No
Word count: 25054
Read: 10397
Published: July 07 2022
Updated: July 20 2022
Story Notes:
If you’re here for a quick bat, sorry
but this probably isn’t for you.
I hope you enjoy!
1. The Nymphomaniac by fosmat
2. The Insomniac by fosmat
3. Fuck by fosmat
4. Sable's Emporium by fosmat
The Nymphomaniac by fosmat
Author's Notes:
Not much to say that hasn't been said in the story notes.
Introductory stuff, the usual.
Sleepless nights
compound. Life had gone from alert hours ticking by to a monotonous flatline of
activity. The only respite: the brief moments where he slipped into a waking
coma, wandering through an endless labyrinth deep within his mind, his feet
freezing against the bone-cold cement. Though with that respite came silence. The
overwhelming sound of silence, echoing around the spiralling concrete hallways,
growing the further you looked, bouncing, fading into the minute cracks along
the ground. Blaring louder than a symphony orchestra and thick like a heavy
blanket over his head. And somehow, within its placidity and the closing walls
around, it built more chaotic and worrisome by the second until… Nothing.
The cooling
temperature sets back in, the evening breeze rolls across a tiny courtyard,
hidden away behind an old grey box of a boarding house. He leaned into the bench,
hands clasped together in his lap, the blackouts had become more frequent. Compared
to Carnale, this time of day lit up the sky in a radiant display of orange and
gold as the sun’s rays shone their last shine behind the faraway mountains. Less
glamorously, the ground was littered with cigarette butts and empty chewing gum
wrappers, he didn’t need to check under the bench for he knew exactly what he
would find. Behind his view of the golden countryside, the chattering of
teenagers emanated from the many open windows covering the grey building’s wall,
their voices floated through the chilling wind.
Whenever he
tried to recount the last seven months, he was met with that seemingly
never-ending concrete maze, trudging through foreign rooms devoid of
personality and often waking someplace unfamiliar. He went numb in those
moments, unable to comprehend his surroundings or form a competent thought,
allowing himself to be tugged along in the never-resting current. And now he
was wound up in Silverleaf of all places – an expansive rural landscape with
little else to offer. Brief flashes of documents, serious conversations and
vague images of temporary dorm rooms were sparse amongst his memory, he
relegated them into the overflowing compartments where he assumed all his
thoughts would rest, only to be uncovered when he deemed the time right. All he
had left was the backpack resting between his legs, his lifelong belongings loosely
fit into a small black canvas bag. He took a long breath, there was no need to
dwell on it. This was where he was and he had to deal with that, maybe it would
be better than the last home he’d been in. At least that’s what he told
himself.
An increase in
murmurs caught his attention, a girl stormed out of a side door and jabbed her
finger at a disembodied voice inside.
“You’re an ugly
cunt James. Fuck off,” she spat.
Her shoulder
length bleached hair jostled in the breeze as she slammed the door shut and
cursed again. She buried her head in the inner pockets of her baggy brown
leather jacket and rifled for a cigarette. She was short and decked head to toe
in grunge. Winged eyeliner and silver piercings clung to her nose and ears for
it seemed the only impression she wanted to give was an intense one. He took
note of the red laces snaking their way through her black combat boots, it was
an interesting touch.
“Hey.” He gave
an awkward wave, not usually one to strike conversation.
Her head snapped
towards him, the pissed off look plastered across her face faded once she
properly took in the frail, sullen looking boy with his shaved head and
mismatched clothes. Judging from the deep set black around his eyes, he hadn’t
had a wink of sleep. “You’re Jonah right?” She sighed, her shoulders followed
suit. The front desk lady – Andrea – had told her to expect him. Usually, the
seniors rotated with introducing new kids to the house, it’s not like it
mattered, new kids were always shipped out of here within the month. Only the
worst of the worst (the shitè de la shitè as she liked to call it) got to call
Silverleaf home.
“Yeah. Lady at
the front told me to meet you here,” he said.
“Righto. I’m
Paige.” She plopped down next to him and folded one leg over the other, her
focus directed toward the end of the cigarette hanging from her mouth. Two
metallic clicks protected by the wind later and she was taking a long drag
while looking him up and down. His face was rough, but strangely pretty – in an
unconventional way, she couldn’t tell if it was his crooked lips or the gleaming
golden green iris sunken beneath the bags around his eyes. No – on second
thought, it was definitely the eyes. Though his physical traits certainly
betrayed his fashion, like a supermodel with a blind stylist. “You dress like
shit,” she said.
Jonah
instinctively glanced down at himself. His daily assortment of outfits were a
mix match of random finds from the local Vinnies. The insult didn’t
particularly bother him, he never quite understood the reasoning behind having
a sense of style. An indifferent “thanks” was all he managed.
For a moment they
sat there, listening to crows caw into the sunset. Individually, they tracked
groups of birds flying between trees amongst the rolling hills. The moment
dragged until Jonah recalled what the front desk lady had told him. “I think
you’re supposed to uh, show me around or something.”
“Fuck that.”
Paige scoffed, as if the very notion offended her. “What is there to know? Shit
in the toilet, piss in the sink, it’s real simple stuff mate.” Her gaze locked
onto the distance, a billowing cloud of smoke dispersed into the air, the
cancer stick responsible hung lazily between her chipped black fingernails. “Trust
me, there’s not much to this place, you’ll figure it out.”
“Brilliant.” He
lowered his head into his hands, eyes wide open as he reflected on the
circumstance, another titbit of lucid negativity, it seemed like he was better
off getting lost within his own head at times. His life had been dissected with
a surgical level of care, not that there was much of a life to begin with.
There were no remnants of Jonah Hart in Carnale, his old home in the city. No
family. No friends. And now, he was sat in an equally remote part of the state
with nothing to look at but acres upon acres of farmland and a boarding school
packed with troubled kids like the one beside him, he’d been through it all
before and now he was doing it again. Would the cycle ever end? Or was his fate
tied to this perpetual limbo?
“You’re in
final year, right?” She nudged him from his thoughts. “What horrible shit did
you do to end up here?”
“My mum died.”
“Shit.” She slumped
into the bench, the usual. She took another drag, allowing the smell of
burnt tobacco to taint the fresh air, though she was known for not knowing when
to shut up, she never knew what to say at a time like this.
“It’s fine.”
They sat for a moment, an antagonisingly long moment for Jonah. “She was a
cunt.” That didn’t even begin to cover it. He stared into the last shining
precipice of the sun behind the landscape, his knuckles clenched. He had never
disclosed the true nature of his relationship with his mother to anyone, so he
was unsure why it had partially slipped now, as small as that slip was, perhaps
it was because he’d never had a genuine chance to. The closest he had come was early
last year, when he stood outside his school’s counsellor office – he had to
take advantage of the resources available and as he grew older he was finding
it increasingly difficult to keep these things to himself. Much to his dismay,
it became another waste of time, the duration of their conversation consisted
of Jonah’s death stare and the clearly uneducated counsellor babbling on about
a man’s duty and pushing him to try and act more like a regular 17-year-old
should, it was part of the reason he’d hated that school and its all-boys jerk
off. He halted. The longer he dwelled on it, the more grotesque and unnatural
the labyrinth would become, drowning out all else until he was cornered in
those concrete halls, its misshapen claws wrapped around his eyes. A glance at
Paige brought him back, her very presence enough to remind him of where he was.
He was a real person having a conversation with another real person.
The sprawling
golden fields slowly turned to their grey selves as the colour faded from the
sky, the sun far beyond the horizon now, introducing a slight bite to the
gathering breeze. Paige’s lips were pursed and her eyes narrow, a slow nod
following Jonah’s words. The last crinkling whisper from her exhausted cigarette
diffused into the night, she tossed the butt with the rest of them and ground it
beneath her boot.
“Want a dart?” Paige
asked, presenting Jonah with a half empty pack of Marlboros, seven cigarettes
bounced about in the small cardboard box.
“Nah. I don’t
smoke,” he said.
She shrugged and
lit another one, it always helped cheer her up at least. The caws that echoed
across the field had been replaced by the constant buzzing of grasshoppers and
crickets. Together, Paige and Jonah soaked their eyes in the moonlight, the
occasional crinkle of burning paper was their only topic of conversation.
“They tell you
which room you’re in?” Paige was the first to break the silence and softly
grunted to her feet.
“Seven, I think.”
“Bullshit.
Really?” Her eyes widened.
Had she noticed
it too? “Yeah. Why?” Jonah prodded.
“Nah, it’s not-.”
“Dinner ready in
ten!” A young brunette girl shouted from the door Paige had slammed shut
earlier. Easily spooked, Paige waved her off and flicked another browned filter
into the cemetery below.
“Wait, but why?”
“Nah, it’s
nothing. It was just my friend’s room.” Paige shrunk into her collar, shuddering
under the biting temperature. She paced inside, ushering Jonah to follow,
leaving no time for him to compute her messy topic change, hoping he relegated
it to a sleep-induced delusion if anything. They entered an incandescent lit
hallway, one boy with puffy red eyes shuffled past them – an odd herby smell in
his wake, he was following the wafting scent of Japanese curry towards the
dining hall, where the chatter of the boarding house now centralised.
Turning the
other way, they passed through the vacant hall, a window broke the beige wall,
it showed the darkened recreational room, a shadowed couch housed two
silhouettes passionately compressed together, their affairs uninterrupted by
Jonah’s investigative gaze. “So, how long have you been here?” He questioned
with a touch of wondrous curiosity. Though he was merely making conversation,
he lingered on Paige’s earlier reaction, there were more questions to ask.
Paige pursed
her lips, she’d rather put a bullet through her skull than reminisce on the
brain-numbing time spent here, especially now. Especially with all that had
happened over the last seven months, her hatred for the place was reaching new
highs. “Seven fuckin’ years. I got a major case of Stockholm syndrome.” As she
said it she stiffened.
There was a
confused expression riddled over Jonah’s face as he too stiffened. There it was
again. The number seven. His eyes glanced downwards, running his thumb over the
bandage that hid seven stitches in his forefinger. His mind pointed towards the
bag on his back, hidden inside was an envelope sent from a previously unknown
address, Seven Farrell Avenue. He couldn’t shake it from his head, the number
seven. There it was again, a bold bronze seven, staring at him in the face.
“Bro, are you
good?” Paige’s waving hand obscured his vision, she had to stop him before he
walked straight into the number on his room’s door.
He stopped and
blinked twice, his surroundings set back in. Weathered door. Cramped hall.
Confused Paige. Another blackout. “Sorry, I spaced out. I don’t sleep much.” He
nervously laughed and gave her what he assumed was a reassuring smile, though
her concern didn’t fade.
“Yeah okay.”
She briefly flashed a return smile and turned the doorknob for him, bit fuckin’
weird but okay. “When you’ve dumped your shit, just head back down the hall.”
Across from him she cracked open an identical door with the number seven on its
face, the only two rooms in the whole building that shared a number due to
construction errors (which only furthered Jonah’s curiosity and piqued Paige’s).
After carelessly tossing her bag inside with a depleted sigh, her boots clacked
loudly against the floor as she disappeared back around the corner.
Recovering from
his momentary daze, Jonah creaked into the confined, but furnished dorm room. A
single bed that looked like it would screech and groan with every sleepless
toss and turn sat tucked away in the corner and the off-white blinds covering
the singular window didn’t allow for much light to sneak in. He flipped the
switch and after a few moments of dim flickering, the lights buzzed to life.
There was a small desk crammed in the opposite corner to his bed where he
placed his backpack. A clock sat above the desk, its hour hand pointing to the
seven.
Again, another
seven. He had to find Paige, she saw it too, he could tell. Why else would she
have reacted in such an odd way to their earlier conversation? Though it may
have just been in reaction to the odd coincidence of their shared room number,
he had to make sure. Seven had become an inevitable over the last week. It meant
something – it had to. He hurriedly switched the lights off and exited.
The weathered
walls and creaking floorboards that constituted the hall connecting the dorm
rooms expanded into a comparatively spacious room, teeming with teenagers
spooning their way through hot curry and chatting whatever heinous banter came
to mind. The rich scent of turmeric and cumin wafted from big silver pots
that housed litres of curry and rice along one side of the room, the food was
perhaps the only silver lining Silverleaf offered. Jonah spotted Paige in line ahead
of a similarly-aged boy with a glorious mullet running over his scalp, their
bickering gradually came into focus.
“Please Paige,
I promise things’ll be different this time. I swear.” He said, reaching to grab
her arm.
“Like I said
before. Fuck. Off.” She knocked him away, spooning a lump of curry on her
plate. She was getting real sick and tired of this routine. After a
surprisingly relaxing afternoon with that new kid, Jonah, she’d managed to calm
herself down, but now she could feel her anger bubbling back to the surface.
“Don’t you miss
our trips to Byron?” He said it in a harsh whisper, making sure to duck into
her ear so no one heard a squeak of his sensitivity as his hand snaked over her
hips.
Paige span to
face him, holding her fist back from splintering his front teeth. Fury seethed
from the deadpan look she gave him. She swore she’d never met someone so
fucking stupid in her life.
“You’re dumb as
dogshit James. Get the fuck out of my way.”
James stood his
ground for as long as he could withstand the oppressive glare Paige held.
Concluding he’d get no further with her, he threw in the towel. “You’re fuckin’
impossible.” An emphatic sigh followed as he stepped aside.
Paige stormed
past, even Jonah had to take a step back to avoid her war path. She paced down
the hall and barged through the door they had used earlier. The constant
chatter of the room drowned out the heated exchange as James moped past
muttering a string of defeated curses, taking a seat at the nearest table. Jonah
took his chance.
The courtyard
was solely populated and dark cloud cover spanned the sky, the frostbitten wind
caught the end of his nose in a stabbing cold. Paige – the only inhabitant – hunched
over an untouched dinner, her figure dully illuminated by a lamp above the
bench. Sensing Jonah’s approach, the hairs on her neck stood on end, didn’t
this kid know what privacy was?
“Fuck do you
want?” She mumbled like a child yet to receive their portion of cake.
“Sorry, I
didn’t really know where else to sit.” Jonah unsurely took a seat next to her,
leaving a substantial gap of space. That was only the partial truth.
Paige said
nothing, teeth clenched behind closed lips, too fixated on the darkness before
her to even light a cigarette. Blonde strands of hair danced across her vision with
every gust of cold wind. Ever since the year started she had been in a
self-inflicted spiral, her best friend – Bonnie – fucked off and graduated
without a word spoken since, leaving her to wander the halls alone amongst an
entirely foreign cohort. Simply because Paige didn’t have the smarts to pass
Year 12. Ha, yeah. That’s what she was going with these days. No matter
how desperately she tried to romanticise her life, it didn’t change the fact
she had been trapped in a three by two metre dorm room for the better part of
seven years, with no idea of what was expected out of her future, she pretended
to take solace in the fact there were no expectations. But the encroaching
unknown always struck her during the early hours of the morning while she lay
in her shitty metal bed trying to prolong the beginning of a new day with a
downward swirl of self-deprecating thoughts and tears.
“Maybe if we neck
ourselves we’ll end up somewhere nicer than Silverleaf.” Her and Bonnie would
always say. Then they’d discuss if they were going to heaven or hell, and then
if god or satan was hotter.
“The thing is,
god is definitely husky as fuck,” Paige would say.
“Cunt, how many
times do I have to say it? Demon. Energy.” Bonnie clapped with her final words.
Fuckin’
demon energy, you were such a dickhead Bonnie. Whatever.
In the past,
she sought distractions. Her father’s 2002 caramel Les Paul had been the first
to occupy her time. The long-forgotten chords came back in a matter of weeks
and coupled with her airy alto-soprano voice which when fused amongst her usual
smoky tone, created a strikingly unique blend. But as she grew older, the
reality checks grew more numerous, unique was the norm for artists and
musicians alike. Talent existed in everyone, and unfortunately, she lived in
Silverleaf where there was no music program and there was nowhere outside of
Silverleaf to take her talent where she wouldn’t be surrounded by equally gifted
musicians with more technical knowledge and funding behind them. There was no competing
with money she found out. End of story, case closed, fuckin’ forget about it
Paige.
And like the
many before them, she turned to drugs and alcohol with the rest of her peers, because
that was the norm if you found yourself in Silverleaf’s boarding house. She
used to joke with Bonnie that their school – Silverleaf State High – was leading
the world globally in bongs ripped in a maths classroom. And once they reached
a certain age and their hormones properly started firing, it was no shock that
sex became the new hot topic. And just like that, like a moth to a flame, after
her very first taste in a dank disabled bathroom with an equally curious girl, sex
became an insatiable urge for Paige, an addiction with an effortlessly
prescribed cure. It was a burden that began to plague her mind during all hours
of the day, often causing her thoughts to be consumed with nothing but cravings
for lust as her eyes bore into whatever eye candy they could find (or in her
words: she was horny as fuck). Despite the detrimental effects that were
plainly obvious to her, she liked to frame it in a positive light, because going
to sleep knowing what the next day would entail made life in Silverleaf
bearable.
The sex was the
only reason she was with James in the first place. Unfortunately no prowess in
bed could salvage his cardboard box personality. The concept of having a surfer
boyfriend seemed appealing to her at first, but the many early mornings driving
to the beach before school in his shitty Holden Commodore with nothing but
Triple J to soothe the ears grew to agitate her (who knew radio hosts could be
so insufferable). Then she’d have to sit on the dunes and watch him surf for
hours on end, pretending that she had paid attention when he finally came back
to shore. What a fuckin’ bore that was. Outside of surfing, it felt like a
marathon to converse with his remaining brain cells, not to mention his
complete lack of emotional intelligence, their arguments usually ended with his
confusion as to what was even wrong in the first place, and then to make it all
even worse, he cheated on her with some faux artsy bitch from school. She’d
come to realise, James was a man-child that only wanted her back because he was
a fucking baby who liked sucking on her tit. But when she sat at this bench –
her favourite place in the world, enjoying the sensation of wind buffeting
against her, everything seemed to make a little more sense. So, she took a
moment to properly appreciate how refreshing the week had been since they broke
up.
Huh. A week.
“Have you been
seeing a lot of sevens in your life recently?” Jonah asked and watched her
expectantly, shuffling closer as if their conversation was confidential,
unaware that the gusting winter breeze could mask even a boisterous yell from a
distance.
Paige had. A
lot. In fact, now that it was said aloud, the absurdity of it all struck her. “Fuckin’
everywhere,” she said. Not always the number though, sometimes a period of
time. Seven years since she moved to Silverleaf. Seven months since she had ruined
everything. Seven days since she broke up with James.
“I started
noticing it a week ago.”
“Same here. I thought
I was going fuckin’ insane.”
Jonah remained
unsatisfied with the lack of clarity Paige provided. But, deep down, he knew it
to be futile, to expect her to have the answer for him, to give him a meaning
beyond an abundance of sevens and blackouts, she was no holy messiah but a mere
grungy, explicit teenager. And he who receded into silence with his hands
clasped together in his lap (as he always did when unsure of what to think or
say), was destined to fizzle into a memory held by none.
Admittedly,
when she put some more thought into it, Paige found the situation strange.
Mostly, she’d been ignoring the sevens that popped up in day-to-day life but
now that she was faced with Jonah, it suddenly felt a bit too real. Two
previously unacquainted individuals both dealing with such bizarre coincidence
at the exact same time, in the exact same place. Was Jonah a government agent
trying to communicate through code? Or was he some kind of conspiracy theorist
convinced she was someone she wasn’t? Or was he given to her by fate, earned
compensation for putting up with James for seven weeks? She certainly wasn’t
complaining, she could use a pretty little gift from fate, especially one as
goddamn smoking as he was.
“What the fuck does
it mean?” He said, utterly bewildered.
“Maybe we’re
soulmates.”
“Huh?”
She turned to
him with a suggestive look, her brow cocked and the corner of her lip tugged. “I’m
takin’ the piss.” Though she did believe it to be a possibility. And judging by
the flustered look on Jonah’s face and the lack of speech flapping from his
lips, the idea had been planted in his head. Maybe she didn’t have to brush
this new guy aside, maybe she could have a little fun with him. Besides, it would
be nice to spend some time with someone lacking the context of her reputation
in Silverleaf, someone she didn’t have to maintain appearances for. She held their
eye contact, staring deep into his darkened pits, trying to decide on her next
course of action. Those greenish hazel eyes and their magnificent flecks of
gold were hypnotising, there was a mystery hidden behind them, but also an
ignorant youth looking for guidance. Fuck. The heat between her legs
involuntarily rose.
“You ever eaten
pussy before Jonah?”
End Notes:
I'm really glad to finally be able to share this with you guys, so I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, and who knows maybe I'll post chapter 2 earlier than expected...
Regardless, thanks for reading!
Author's Notes:
Decided I should probably post chapter 2 along with chapter 1 since they kind of play off each other in building Jonah and Paige's dynamic.
This one is all about Jonah and Paige after spending a week together and how their friendship has evolved.
Hope you enjoy!
A sharp intake
of breath. A map. A letter. An address. Jonah blinked twice, the morning light
constricted his burning pupils as it peaked through the blinds. He awoke to the
seventh day since his arrival, the tinny digital clock read 6:37AM.
Figures.
His shoulders
slumped, knowing what he had in front of him, he’d at least garnered that much
from the past week. And what an interesting week it had been. Each night he
crawled into bed, he felt that sleepless version of himself awaken, eager to
work into the night, while he descended into his concrete lair. He awoke at his
now cluttered desk, a new piece of the puzzle staring back at him. At first it
seemed like mindless action, but a pattern soon emerged. During his sleep he
was concocting a plan.
The catalyst
being the address, Seven Farrell Avenue. It was tagged at the top of a letter
signed by his father, a brief message that simply read.
Dear Jonah,
I hope you’ve
been well.
Come visit
me at Seven Farrell Avenue.
Love Dad.
He was used to
it by now, but it still hurt to read, the last time he had seen his father was
when he was seven. And a few weeks after his mother had passed, a supervisor
handed him this letter. He sighed, even his childhood couldn’t escape the
number seven, it was firmly entrenched in his life.
Jonah didn’t remember
much about his father. He was stout and loved beer as much as he loved the
Parramatta Eels. At least, that’s what he gathered from photos of the man. No,
what Jonah remembered most about his father wasn’t linked to any particularly
memorable events. It was much simpler than that. It was a gentle arm around
both shoulders on a warm Friday night. A father with his arm around his son
while they cheered on the spotlight lit grassy hill, wet with evening dew and
the shout of players and referees alike as the stench of churned up turf and
hard-earned sweat evaporated into the humid summer air.
It was the
stabbing cold he felt in his cheeks on an early frostbitten morning. Not quite
the sound of his voice, but a familiar murmur as they sat together wrapped by the
ocean-provided serenity, quiet whispers as waves lapped at the pylons below the
pier. He couldn’t remember if they ever caught a fish but he liked to imagine
they’d jump in excitement and cheer while he reeled it in. These memories of
his father were located on another realm separate to the concrete maze, one
where it was eternally empty yet peaceful all the same, but as time wore on
these images faded into foggier versions of themselves, as if someone were
spraying a mist over his memories, there were others there. He could see faces
he used to remember, but there were no names to be placed on them.
He longed for
more memories of his father, he longed to put a voice to the face, he longed to
feel that arm wrap around his shoulder and remind him that he was okay. For
that was something that he had seen and been drilled about, a father and his
son was a special connection – one he was constantly reminded that he lacked.
Perhaps that was what seven meant, it was a sign from some higher power guiding
him towards what he desired most. That’s why he wholly trusted the plan (though
he appreciated how ridiculous it would sound if he revealed this belief to
anyone but himself).
Next to the
letter was a map. During the week red marker had been used to decorate the torn-out
page. Red circles were numbered around three locations, one: a motel, two: a
train station and three: the address, far, far away from Silverleaf. They were
supposed to go on a school trip today, to an old mining town in a remote part
of the hinterlands. The town coincidentally sat only a few kilometres south of
the first circle, another coincidence that he welcomed, he had begun to feel
like he had some sort of luck-based superpower. His sleep-fuelled brain had
laid the plan out perfectly. Ditch the class and embark on his way to meet his
dad, it was the only thing that seemed to make sense in his patchwork life.
Gathering all
but the last item, a letter from himself, nothing but the words ‘Hey Dad’
scribbled across the top. He wanted to say something to him, tell him about his
life and what he had achieved, but had he accomplished a single thing a father
could find themselves proud of? The most impressive feat he could recall was
when he survived a week alone in the woods with nothing but a kitchen knife and
a box of matches, he never wrote it down though, in the fear that once he
finally told his dad what he considered to be his greatest achievement, he
would look him in the eye and say: “Is that it?” He crammed everything into his
bag as well as an additional change of clothes and some muesli bars he had
stolen from the school canteen. The clock was ticking and he had to be by the
school gate before seven.
The few kids in
his grade were already trickling from their dorms, it was a 15-minute walk to
school and if they left too late, they’d never make it. Jonah banged on the
door opposite his and creaked it open, he’d grown used to the stale wooden smell
that occupied every square inch of the building.
“Paige, get up.
We gotta go.” He said with an elevated tone to rouse her, though it would be
difficult to break her out of the duvet cocoon she had fashioned.
She responded
with an array of murmured curses and rolled back over, her hair messily flopped
down her face, the chirp of kookaburras singing into the sunrise sounded like
nails against a chalkboard, she thumped a pillow over her head. He had learnt
that she wasn’t a morning person.
Paige’s room
was laid out identical to his, but in place of his bland wooden walls were
numerous posters of bands (all with the same punk aesthetic) that he’d never
heard of, not that he knew many – any, to begin with. There were untouched textbooks
and rock ‘n’ roll magazines strewn over her desk and an electric guitar crammed
in the corner, though it seemed to be for show since he’d never heard her play.
Jonah wondered to his first night in Silverleaf where he knelt by her bed, the
pressure of her palm against the back of his head as his face was shoved into her
pussy, the heat that clung to his lips and nostrils still remained ever present.
That was another thing he had learnt about Paige, she was a nymphomaniac who
had no reservations introducing him to everything she was into. When she had
initially forced him on his back with her fingers tight around his neck and
mounted him with a devilish grin, something deep inside him awoke and suddenly
there was an overwhelming pressure building between his legs.
He’d thought
about it many times before, what his sexuality was. Was he straight or gay, or perhaps
neither, asexual was it? Was he into brunettes, blondes, redheads? What about
height or weight? Face or arms or legs, or, as confusing as it sounded, feet?
(He’d overheard a hushed group of boys talking about one of their teachers feet
before, and not in the innocent way he might have initially suspected). These
preferences never made any sense to him, no matter who or what he looked at, he
never felt what he assumed arousal would feel like, what he saw displayed in
books and the naughty magazines, which he would have to hurriedly put down when
the clerk spotted him as a young teen lurking in the X-rated aisle, none of
which ever elicited much of a response. He didn’t know what he liked and he
always assumed someone like him would never have a proper chance to find out
and act on these basic human inhibitions until he was much older, so like so
many things in his life, he forgot about it and tried not to think about it
until the time was right, which now that he thought about it, was probably the
first time he had begun to employ such a strategy.
That had been
before he had met Paige at least. As someone with practically zero sexual
experience, he was met with a veteran who had figured out exactly what made her
tick and it clearly rubbed off on him and as good as it was to have someone
coaching him through his first embarrassing experiences, he soon found out what
was missing, it was touch, her touch in particular. He also grew to like being
told what to do, and he especially grew to appreciate her attitude and body in
bed, how she’d shake her chest just out of reach or let her ass glide slowly
from his face down to his dick. She had a talent for knowing exactly what he
liked without even him knowing, seeing how he reacted to her words and touch
and acting accordingly, he would try to emulate it to varying levels of
success. She taught him to admire her body but not touch until instructed and to
bite back when her hand went exploring, it felt better to tame a tiger than a
cat she had said. It was teasing and role-reversing and he knew enough to know
it wasn’t exactly normal (not that he really cared about being normal).
Yet, whenever she gave him the beck and call – which was often – he was
entirely under her spell.
“Seriously get up.
I’m not waiting.”
He shut the
door to finalise his warning, though his cheeks were flush. There he was having
wet daydreams about a half-asleep Paige, he had never had thoughts like these
before, where her body and cocky grin would implant themselves in the forefront
of his mind. He had also come to understand that he had no self-control of his
nether regions, contributing that to having spent most of his time alone before
Silverleaf, leaving his libido to lay dormant. Aside from their sexual
escapades (which he had impressively kept up with), their bond had blossomed
into a symbiotic relationship, one where Paige relied on Jonah’s inquisitive
nature to fuel her incessant need to spout words but could just as easily coast
into a warm silence enjoyed by both. They sat together at school, they ate
alone on the bench outside and they mostly ignored everyone else – well, he
did, Paige certainly had somewhat of a reputation. When he was around her, the
frequency of his blackouts lessened, only to reappear at night when she could
no longer distract him, she was like a nightlight that refused to let him sleep.
As he left the
supposed warmth of the boarding house, he blew hot air into his clammy hands,
it was a chilly Wednesday and the lone path towards the school was dotted with
similarly meandering students. As much as he had enjoyed the hours spent with her,
he didn’t have time to wait for Paige this morning, if he missed the bus, his
sleep-induced efforts would be for naught, though he desperately hoped she
would make it, less the trip become a muted, lonely march. But he knew she
would, as much as he was becoming obsessed with Paige, he could sense her
becoming equally obsessed with him (at least, that’s what he thought it meant
when she crashed into his room last night after they had had sex to cuddle).
Silverleaf
State High had plenty of land to spread its campus around, it was a
conglomerate of old-fashioned brick buildings with intertwining concrete paths
between. Jonah snaked his way through the brick maze, passing by troves of
vandalised lockers, messy classrooms and empty sporting fields before ending up
by the front gate where the bus puttered to a standstill. He signed his name
off and clambered aboard.
Jonah adjusted
himself on the stiff seat. The teacher – Mr Pertyl – stood at the front of the
bus doing a final runover of names, he felt a pang of guilt as Paige’s name was
read aloud. He was beginning to worry that he hadn’t urged her hard enough,
maybe she wasn’t as enamoured as he thought. He leaned his head against the
window and closed his eyes as the last few names were called.
“Walk of shame
‘ay Fowler?” A rugged voice chimed above the mild murmur in the bus.
“Fuck up cunt.”
The friendly response couldn’t have been spat by anyone else but Paige.
“Looking for
your sex slave?” He made an ass-slapping gesture.
Paige flipped
off the rough-faced boy responsible and screwed her face in disgust, the walls
in the boarding house were thin and her tastes had been publicised many years
ago. At first, she had been slightly worried it would turn Jonah away, but
similar to how he reacted to most things not involving herself, he was
indifferent to their outlandish remarks. Putting his posse’s round of giggling
behind her, she stomped towards him. His relaxed forehead came away from the
window with a sigh.
“Hey mate.”
The bus swayed
to a halt after bearing the brunt of her angered footsteps. She was clad in her
signature oversized jacket with a fitted white band tee that led into a
rolled-up pair of jeans and socks that bunched around her shins before they disappeared
into her black boots, the red laces were messily tied to match bed hair that
had yet to settle. Judging by the scornful look peering past her nose ring, she
wasn’t impressed. Still, he was relieved, the trip would have been
substantially less exciting without her.
“Why didn’t you
wait for me this morning?”
“I told you I
wasn’t gonna wait.”
“Yeah? Well
fuck me for wanting to get a few extra.” She huffed and fell into the seat next
to Jonah, dumping her bag on the ground. A short, sharp exhale was used to blow
her bangs from her eyes.
“Sorry,” he
said finally.
“You’re
forgiven.” She slumped further in the seat, early mornings were the bane of her
existence. “Can I have the window seat?”
“Nah.”
“Fuck you.”
Jonah smirked,
she really loved that word (if you hadn’t already gathered). Her temperament was
volatile, one high octane moment seamlessly meddled into something more lowkey.
It was like dealing with a cat who went from curling up next to you to bouncing
around the walls of your home meowing bloody murder. His forehead pressed
against the cool glass and he watched as the outside world scrolled past. The
dark of the morning bloomed into a cloudy yet sunny day. Occasionally Paige
would drift off and her head found itself against Jonah’s shoulder. Stoic he
remained, eyes glued to the window, he welcomed the gentle warmth she provided
on a morning like this.
The trees
outside merged from a green blur to something more recognisable as the bus
emerged into somewhat of a clearing on the outskirts of the old mining town.
There was a noticeable lack of life in the decrepit looking place. Jonah nudged
Paige awake, she rose to attention a little too suddenly once realising where her
head lay. They silently watched as majority of the chatting students stepped
off the bus before making their move.
Crisp winter air
hit Jonah’s face, these were the few weeks in Australia where it was actually
cold, he took a moment to soak in the fresh fragrance of nature, it had been a
while since he’d been this deep in the hinterlands. Their class was in a mining
town encircled by looming pine trees, who flashed a variety of greens depending
on how the sun struck the swooshing leaves. The empty street was lined with
aged wooden buildings whose supports would wage a losing war with the
gluttonous winter provided breeze. The itinerary involved exploring and
learning about these historical sites, though no one had paid much attention
when they were told.
The class began
to move ahead of Jonah and Paige as they slunk to the back. Adjusting the
shoulder straps on his backpack, Jonah let his hands find his pockets and tuned
the teacher’s babbling out. He had little interest in history and instead opted
to observe the old Victorian era style buildings on the lonely street.
“Can’t wait to
learn all about Mottlebong and its gold rich history.” Paige
snickered after reading the by-line on an outdated sign next to the info booth.
“Real unfortunate
name,” Jonah tutted.
“Nah, it could
be worse.”
“Yeah, it could
be Paige.”
“Or Jonah’s
arsehole.” She laughed and joined him in examining the worn-down buildings
lining the street. He had only opened up since the first day they met and while
there were moments of odd behaviour, it was nice to speak with someone who
actually had half a brain for once, after going for so long without having a
chance to banter with someone whom she didn’t despise, she took great pleasure
in plucking the low hanging fruit once again. For what had initially begun as a
short fling, it was a welcome surprise with how their relationship had turned
out.
Her eye caught
a particular store that passed by, contrary to the abandoned buildings in the
area, this one was not. “Wanna go check out that antique place?”
Jonah looked
past the crowd of bored students who would rather chatter amongst themselves
than listen to their teachers drivel and considered his options. “Yeah, let’s
go.” It looked like some kind of vintage store maybe.
The pair
discreetly broke off from the class and hurried over to the dilapidated
one-storey structure. Bold faded letters that read ‘Sable’s Emporium’ hung
above the entrance, it was the seventh building along the street. Paige swung
the door open and entered the cramped store with Jonah, a quiet ding rang out
as it closed behind them. Shelves and tables were crammed together like
sardines in a can and cluttered with unimaginable trinkets that threatened to
spill onto the floor.
“Welcome to
Sable’s!” A busty gothic woman exclaimed from behind a tiny counter in the back
corner of the store, Paige’s eyes were instantly drawn to the stretched black
corset that bobbed with her expressive gesture. “How can I help?”
“Just looking
thanks,” Jonah raised a polite hand. There was an odd feeling to the place, no
matter where he set his eyes he couldn’t quite grasp what he was looking at as
if the visible dust drifting through the sun’s rays was a blurred mask.
“Let me know if
you need anything,” she said.
They began to
palm over bizarre statues from unknown origins and books that seemed like they
were written thousands of years ago. “Bro. You see those fuckin’ titties?”
Paige whispered out of ear shot of the gothic woman.
Jonah was
examining a traditional Japanese demon mask with feigned interest. Unsure if
this was some kind of test, wasn’t it a bit rude to perv on strangers? He
hesitantly answered, “I didn’t look.”
“You’re missing
out.” She made a rounding gesture around her chest.
Jonah snickered
and decided to take an encouraged glance to see what she was talking about, and
damn, her enthusiasm was not for naught. Moving on, he found a table lined with
eccentric jewellery. Among the bedazzled necklaces, bracelets and rings was a
row of amulets, each with peculiar inscriptions scrawled over their face.
“It smells like
shit in here,” Paige ducked under a chime hanging from the ceiling and followed
him to the cluttered table. One of the amulets was under his close examination,
the face was bronze and had seven tiny green stones spaced evenly around the
edges with root-like bevel details that when observed from a distance resembled
a seven.
“Bit on the
nose, don’t you think?” Paige leaned in to inspect the amulet between his fingers.
“Yeah, but it’s
also kind of funny.” He lied, there was a certain irony to the amulet
considering the odd circumstances, but strangely enough, he also felt some kind
of connection to it. And knowing the coincidences that they both faced daily,
it was a stupid belief, but it felt foolish to leave it behind.
“Well, are you
gonna buy it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Steal it
then.”
“What?”
She turned to
him with a taunting grin. “C’mon. Don’t be a pussy.”
In the name of
tomfoolery, he maintained her eye contact and pocketed the amulet. With a quick
glance over his shoulder, he strode out the store with a smile and a thanks to
the lady behind the counter. Paige’s grin grew tenfold and she hurriedly followed.
“Cheers! Love
your tits by the way.” She shouted back, a sweet smile pulled at her cheeks as
she shut the door behind them. The goth woman was left with a puzzled look, but
a smoulder of pride.
The two
eventually joined back with the main class group after Paige showered Jonah
with her approval of his methods. Their absence totally unbeknownst to the
others as they carried on, it was easy to go unnoticed considering the
rowdiness of their class. At one point, she left to go take a shit and in the
meantime, one of the boys – a tall tubby lad with a greasy rats tail – he
hadn’t come to recognise came up to him.
“Sup cunt.” He
extended his palm flat, but loose.
“Hey.” Jonah
embraced his hand in an awkward shake (unaware that this wasn’t the formal handshake
he thought it was).
“So, you’re
fucking Paige?” He asked.
He nodded,
unsure if he was impressed or jealous.
“Trust me bro,
don’t bother. Bitch is nuts.”
“She’s
alright.”
They stared at
each other, the boy perplexed while Jonah remained silent. He scoffed, taken
aback by his reaction. He gave Jonah an almost disgusted look and walked away
muttering “weird cunt,” an insult he had heard a countless amount of times over
the years.
Paige soon
returned and immediately launched into a tirade against public toilets, Jonah
kept the interaction to himself for reasons unknown except that he’d rather
listen to her talk about Australia’s public toilet crisis and why hadn’t the
government stepped in yet? As planned, the day clocked by. Every 15 minutes Mr
Pertyl ground the class to a halt and spouted his passion to a disinterested
ensemble of teenage angst. And once the last landmark had been cleared and the
sun’s path had reached the end of its descent, the class trekked toward the bus.
“Want a dart?”
She always offered during a dip in their conversation.
“I’m good.” And
he denied it, like he always did.
Jonah and Paige
lingered around the back of the pack, deliberately pacing their steps to be as
far away as possible. Paige had noticed that he became quieter as the day
passed, often staring into nothing while she blabbered on (which wasn’t particularly
unusual, he was still usually listening). She knew he had an issue with sleep
and even though he had stopped blanking out mid conversation, she heard him enter
and exit his room numerous times throughout the night and early morning, she
tried to combat it last night by cuddling him until they dozed off, but she
still awoke in her own bed, alone. He had explained he was a sleepwalker, but
after sneaking after him one night, she witnessed him rummage through maps of
the local area in the rec room, circling and noting whenever he saw fit. Some
kind of fuckin’ advanced sleepwalking that was. But when she approached him
about it, he had seemed just as confused as she. It was strange, but then
again, so was Jonah.
“Paige, can I
ask you something?” He piped up after an extended silence.
“Shoot.”
Jonah took a
deep breath. His anxiety had been dramatically building all day, the lingering
thought of what he was meant to do hung over him. In the weeks following his
mother’s death, was when he first became lost in the concrete labyrinth. There
was no grief but mindless stumbling through moody hallways, his breath choking
on the unfriendly stale air, he was thankful he had no one he should be
grieving in front of considering his lack of tears may have seemed sociopathic.
Instead he relegated control over to his other self, and he – the original – sat
in the corner of a particularly vast concrete room, with his knees tucked into
his chest, forced to watch a stranger’s life play out like a movie as they
mindlessly nodded along to procedures and government protocols surrounding
suddenly orphaned kids that had nowhere else to go. It didn’t feel real, so he
pretended he wasn’t.
He thought that
he’d truly lost all meaning, like some switch had been flicked and he was
incapable of thinking thoughts about the mundane, thoughts about if he’d need a
jacket today because it was just hot enough that a jumper may be too much or if
he should have a smaller portion at lunch to maximise his satisfaction at
dinner because there was something especially appealing on the menu. His brain
replaced by an ethereal void, housing a space with no ounce of warmth to be
found, the never-ending sound of silence his only companion. That was until he
met Paige, who at first glance was moody and graphic but soon revealed herself
to him as someone caring and sweet, which when coupled with her excitable
energy made her a joy to be around. She gave him a break from the endless
monotony and as much as he understood it had only been a week, he found himself
dependent on her, she didn’t judge and prod him about his past or feel
alienated by his severe lack of pop-culture knowledge like everyone else his
age. She kept him awake and tethered to this realm through whimsical
conversation, something he had lacked throughout his childhood. He couldn’t
leave her in the chance that somewhere along the way to see his father, he
would become lost amongst the labyrinth forever.
“You ever think
about leaving Silverleaf?” Jonah asked.
“Like when I
finish school?”
“Nah. I mean
like, just leave. Run away.”
Paige pursed
her lips, their already sluggish trawl suddenly felt too fast. Plenty of kids
had disappeared over the years, egged on by their peers until they were never
mentioned again. But the reason Paige – the queen of going against the grain –
hadn’t joined the rebellious souls amongst her cohort was the exact reason why
she was 19 years old and still in school. She felt ashamed and couldn’t find
her words, which even she could recognise was totally unlike her.
“Here.” Jonah
handed her two pieces of paper from his bag, omitting his own blank note. The
first was a letter from his… dad? Her eyes scanned over the brief message, she
had assumed he wasn’t around if Jonah was in Silverleaf. She slipped it behind
the next page, a torn-out map of sorts, crazed annotations riddled over it. Why
did she feel like she held evidence linked to the Zodiac Killer?
“The fuck is
all this?” She asked.
He shrugged. “Remember
how you asked me what I was up to every night.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I made
that plan in my sleep. I’m gonna go see my dad.”
“Good for you.”
She still didn’t quite get it and also didn’t understand why he had lied to
her.
A few moments
went by, their conversation replaced with gravel crunching beneath their feet. “Do
you want to come with me?” He asked quietly. Please say yes.
Paige paused in
her tracks to stare at him, to fixate on his face following that whispered
request. The way the corner of his mouth fell and the glimmer in his golden
green eyes made her seriously consider. The way she saw it, Jonah had offered
her an opportunity she had been waiting for, a decision that she could never
have made on her own. Something she and Bonnie had discussed an innumerable
amount of times. And to do it with him – the dopey skinhead obsessed with the
number seven. That was slightly unfair, she had begun to subscribe to the
belief it meant something too, after all it was too frequent an occurrence to
not mean something, right? She had no prospects in Silverleaf, no one
she truly cared for, not anymore at least. And so far, the entire year had been
nothing but loneliness and vapid sex only to become interrupted by her saviour,
the boy with the golden eyes. Though still, there was an invisible force
chaining her to that boarding house, a snarling banshee that wouldn’t let her
leave without answering for what she had done. But Bonnie had left, so why
couldn’t she free herself too? Despite the coolness in her voice, with every
word that she said next, it felt like ripping a knife from her thigh.
“Fuck it. I’m
in.” Her words betrayed her introspection, but for once, she thanked her
impulsivity.
Jonah’s eyes
lit up – she said yes! “Seriously?”
“Well, as long
as we’re not gonna like, fuckin’ starve to death or something.”
“I brought some
muesli bars.”
“Oh, thank god.”
She rolled her eyes, she forgot he ate like a fucking mouse.
“Okay so, how
should we do it?” He swivelled back and forth, eyeing the surroundings like he
was looking for an escape route.
“Are you
fucked? Right now!?”
“Yes! Look,
they’re already getting on the bus.”
And indeed the
class was. There was no time to discuss the logistics, if they were gonna do
this, they had to do it now. She grabbed his wrist and yanked him off the road
out of sight.
“Hey – wait!”
Her hand
covered his mouth. “I had to make sure they didn’t see us fuckwit.” She
squatted next to him, panting with her hand against the wall for support – a
mixture of sudden exertion and adrenaline. He leaned against the backside of
one of the many broken buildings, allowing a breath of relief that Paige had
taken the situation into her own hands.
“Do you think
they’ll realise?” He asked.
“Doubt it – not
until they get back to Silverleaf at least.” She wasn’t sure why the words came
so easily to her, less than a minute ago she had been having an inner crisis. Fuck,
I need a dart.
They had a
moment of downtime while they waited for the guttural roar of the old coach as
it trundled back towards Silverleaf. Paige had gone through two cigarettes
already and was lighting her third, the breeze did its best to prolong the
process. There was an unspoken agreement between the two, to sit in silence and
ruminate on their life until this point, had they made an immature and foolish
decision based on childish aspiration? Jonah couldn’t help but think that he’d
selfishly dragged Paige along with him (even though she had been the one to
physically drag him behind this building), they were just two kids with barely
any food or money and still he somehow expected them to get all the way to some
faraway township, he knew that somewhere along the way she would stop and yell
at him for having such an idiotic idea, to which he would recede into silence
and ask himself how could a plan made in his sleep make any logical sense.
Paige
repeatedly asked herself while staring into the dark forest beyond – what am
I doing here? But no matter how many times she repeated it, she knew
exactly why. In the hours after school, she and Bonnie visited Silverleaf
station to smoke while waiting for a train to clack along the tracks, they came
every hour and a half with little to no passengers on board and finally, when
the doors creaked open, their conversation would silence as they fixated on the
banged up inside until the doors closed and the locomotive disappeared into the
rural countryside.
“If you could teleport
anywhere in the world, where would you go?” Paige asked, their cigarettes
whittled down with each break in speech.
Bonnie would
sit there, cutely chewing her inner cheek, deep in thought. “I really, really
want to try that bakery in Hennilworth,” she said, giggling at Paige’s rolling
eyes, smoke shooting out her nostrils, her giggle bright and airy like her
voice.
Stop Paige,
she’s gone. Stupid, stupid Bonnie.
So, why now had
she decided to go ahead with it? Partly because of all this seven shit (every
branch in the forest was starting to resemble the digit, though if it was a
figment of her imagination, she did not know) but mostly, it was Jonah. His
sharp jawline, buzzed head and her biggest weakness – his eyes, a brow packed
with concentration as he fingered the dirt between his legs. She had learnt
rather quickly that he was a mysterious person, his memory seemed to go no
farther than the week that preceded his mother’s death – he didn’t know what
his favourite band was or which celebrity he wanted to fuck the most (in fact,
he barely knew any bands or celebrities) and as much as she hated to admit it,
he reminded her a lot of Bonnie, with his curious but cheeky nature. She had
assumed his father was dead like his mother, though the belief didn’t stem from
jealously (well maybe a little bit), more curiosity around where he had come
from and why he was in Silverleaf instead of wherever they were headed. Honestly,
she was glad she had said yes, who else can claim they’ve run away from all
their responsibilities with some smokeshow they’ve known for a week? Nah, she
glanced at him again and hid a tiny smirk, she liked spending time with Jonah,
he was pretty good company.
In sync, the
two shuddered under the nightly winter breeze, both cocooning themselves in the
jackets they wore. While enveloped by their thoughts, they had only just come
to realise that the bus left minutes ago.
“We should get to
that motel before we freeze to death.” Paige broke their chattering silence and
stood, extending a hand to help Jonah up.
That simple
gesture was like a sigh of relief for him, she was still on his side. For now
at least. They both rose and brushed off the dirt that clung to their clothes.
The empty street: lit only by the moonlight and nature’s ambience, now occupied
two runaways meandering their way down the gravelled road. The old mining town
slowly but surely disappeared behind them as the looming pine trees closed in
on either side of the lonely path.
“Jonah, when
was the last time you saw your dad?” The question had been fresh on her mind
since they started walking.
“I don’t
remember exactly, but it was sometime around my seventh birthday.”
Paige snorted,
then laughed, because of course it was around then. She quickly apologised but was
dismissed by Jonah who said with a reassuring laugh that he had been thinking
the same thing.
“What about your
parents?”
“I’ll save you
the sob story. They died when I was twelve.”
Jonah frowned. “I’m
sorry Paige.”
She scoffed. “C’mon
dude. Don’t fuckin’ apologise for that.”
Jonah held his
tongue from apologising again, he considered a joke consisting of another seven
related punchline but came up empty. Instead, he asked about her time at
Silverleaf to which Paige gladly took the imaginary microphone and filled the
vacant space with tales of her adolescence. When she was 14, only two years
after she first arrived to Silverleaf, she and Bonnie had been feuding with a
supervisor for months, Kevin they called him (his name was definitely not
Kevin). It started with the regular scolding or removal of dinner privileges
but soon evolved into deliberate targeting. After a particularly long week, one
where they had both received several detentions at school for a new trend they
dubbed ‘watermelon week’, Kevin had told them they would have to miss the
beloved year 8 camping trip because they still refused to remove the ugly
piercings covering their pretty, young faces. “Fuckin’ Kevin,” she added. So,
in their free time while the rest of their peers were excitedly roaming the
great Australian outdoors and the other grades filled the dining hall, they
waited by the staff showers for Kevin and once he was inside, they snuck in (eyes
squeezed shut of course) and took his clothes and towel and threw them outside.
The only hall connecting the bathrooms to the rest of the boarding house ran
directly through the dining hall. Suffice to say, Kevin was not seen again
after that day.
“Dart?” She
asked between stories, as if she hadn’t just described how she’d ruined some
creep’s career.
“You’re wearing
me down,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye.
She had an
expression he hadn’t seen before, one of genuine hope. “Dead set?”
“No, but I admire
the effort.” Jonah was eager to hear more. “What else did you get up to?”
Paige held a
finger up to stop him. “We are gonna smoke a fuckin’ cig together one day,” she
lectured, “but alas,” she stopped herself from ranting. When she was 17 she
found out after hooking up with a guy named Max Collin (or Colon as she
referred to him), that he had a girlfriend – a sweet brunette with little
reciprocated love. After profusely apologising and calming her tears Paige
assured her he’d regret it. And so, the day of their school’s highly
anticipated rival rugby match, she snuck over the counter laxatives into his
water bottle and then watched with pleasure as Colon shit himself after a
particularly brutal tackle in front of a hillside of supporters. Unsurprisingly,
the nickname stuck.
Jonah was
shaking his head with a large grin over his face, she never failed to impress
him. “You’re evil Paige.”
“I try,” she shrugged,
she mightn’t show it but she was eating his admiration up.
He told her
about the interaction he’d had earlier and she didn’t know whether to feel a
sense of trust or to laugh because he genuinely described her as just ‘alright’
(but the fact he had defended her was nice).
“What’d he look
like?”
Jonah tried to
picture him again. “He was kind of tall. I think he had brown hair.”
“Hm – was he
fat?”
“If you want to
put it like that.”
She did. “No
way – did he have a shit rats tail?”
“Yeah he did actually.”
He nodded along, the picture became clear in his head.
“Holy shit
Jonah. That’s fuckin’ Colon!”
Their hike
paused to allow them to double over in laughter, their tears frozen against
their rosy cheeks. The seclusion offered by the looming pines set an intimate
stage for their amusement. Paige in particular was cackling while holding onto
Jonah’s shoulder for support. It was moments like these where Jonah was wholly grateful
to have met her and he found himself wondering what miraculous feat had he
achieved in a previous life to allow someone like her to enter his. She so
effortlessly brought back that airy feeling in his stomach, that tightness
around his cheeks as his smile felt like it became a permanent feature on his
face.
He didn’t know
if he deserved to have stumbled upon such a person, somewhere in the back of
his mind, he wondered if this was just another one of his mind’s tricks, a mere
façade conjured inside the labyrinth. She was almost too good to be true. He
pushed the voice away, for it had dictated his life for too long, he would
enjoy their time together since there was no telling when she would decide his
presence was more a burden than anything else. And until that moment, he would
treasure these moments.
***
With their gait
recovered, they agreed that it was starting to feel like they might actually
freeze to death out here. And so, they continued on, and on, until their legs
pleaded for them to stop. Paige assumed they had to be close, though her
increasing complaints were their only source of reference. And when she ran out
of cigarettes her complaining went from sporadic to constant (the only reason
Jonah knew she ran out was because she had begun to mope in melodramatic
fashion).
Mercifully
after a few hundred more draining steps, the trees on one side of the road
thinned out to reveal a cheap looking motel, the M and T had fallen off the
sign outside and the outer walls had a multitude of cracks and graffiti. They tiptoed
through the unoccupied carpark, it felt like they shouldn’t be there, if only
because it was a public place and after hours. the silence grew heavy as their
caution swelled.
“Reckon anyone
even works here?” Paige wondered aloud, her breathing a little heavier after
the long hike.
“A serial
killer maybe.” Jonah peered through the door, he would have entered even if there
were a killer, it looked toasty in there. He pushed the door open, their
entrance signalled a bell and thankfully, a buffet of warmth. The foyer had a
stale aroma and the once bright lights had faded to a dull yellow, their
constant buzzing accompanied by a swarm of moths.
“Hellooo?”
Paige called out to the empty reception. She cautiously stepped forward,
peering to her left down the door filled hallway, expecting an axe-wielding
psycho to start charging at her. The sound of quiet snoring caught her attention
as she reached the front desk. Looking over, she saw an old, bearded man laying
his head in front of a sleeping computer screen. A hushed sigh of relief
escaped her.
“Excuse me.”
Jonah reached over to nudge the man’s shoulder.
“Wh- wha-“ He
jolted awake, blinking manically and swivelling his head back and forth. Soon,
he realised the customers presence and rubbed his bald head. “Heh, sorry ‘bout
that. Gets a bit dull round ‘ere. How can I ‘elp?”
“Don’t mention
it,” Jonah said. “Do you think we could get-“
“A double room thanks
mate.” Paige leaned forward on the counter, a sweet smile across her face.
The man
regarded them for a moment, his gaze flicking between the blank buzzcut boy and
the spunky blonde-haired girl. What were two kids doing here in the dead of the
night anyway? “So, what brings you two round ‘ere?” He matched the girls smile
and turned to grab a key off the wall.
“We wanted to
fuck where no one can hear us.” Paige held her smile and plucked the key from
his grip.
He looked at her
with a perplexed look and only received a shrug in return as she walked off,
leaving the boy to stutter an apology while he tossed up whether he should be
following her or not. The man excused him and fell back into his chair, this
was the Greater Silverleaf area, there were plenty of eccentric individuals
around, what harm were a couple of kids? If anything he was doing them a
service by offering shelter. Exhaustion forced the interaction from his mind
and he welcomed the onset of sleepiness.
Once Jonah
caught up to Paige, they were almost at their room. “He was just an old guy
Paige, don’t you think that was a bit much?” Jonah had said while chasing her through
the corridor.
“Shut the fuck
up Jonah.” Paige placed her hand against his chest, the other on the doorknob.
“Count to 30 then come in.”
Jonah
immediately ceased, sensing in her tone exactly what was about to transpire.
“Okay,” he said and she let her fingers linger on him before disappearing
behind the door. It was perhaps the longest thirty seconds he had ever
experienced in his life. He pronounced each number in full with his eyes
closed, not wanting to rush the moment and ruin her surprise.
…27…28…29…30!
He eagerly
turned the doorknob and barged through the door. The room itself was of little
note, a dingy kitchenette and off-yellow walls with a few tacky paintings, but
that was not what caught his eye. A trail of discarded clothes led him to Paige
sitting on the edge of the bed, with her legs folded and her chest topless –
her wry smile lured him closer.
Paige wagged
her finger. “Clothes off first you little bitch.”
He complied –
without hesitation, for if he prolonged the act any further he might explode.
“I’m gonna fuck
your brains out baby.” She pounced from the bed and imprinted her figure
against his side. Her hand wrapped around his crotch and the other raked a
fingernail across his ass cheek.
“Good,” he said
with false confidence, her perky breasts against his skin disallowed him from
saying otherwise, he was still getting his sea legs.
Paige spun and
threw him onto the bed before clambering over and sitting on his hard dick. She
smirked and leaned in close to his face, his probing gaze caught under hers.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?”
Before he had a
chance to lie, she increased her bounding rhythm and elicited nothing more than
a groan from him as he grabbed her hips for support. They fucked into the night
and despite the numerous complaints Paige made during their walk, her legs held
up enough to finish them both off multiple times.
Together they
panted, their faces inches from each other as they looked into each other’s
eyes, the stench of sweat and sex heavy in the air. Jonah was about to speak
when Paige slapped him across the face, his mouth gaped which she found amusing.
Why does that feel so good? He found himself asking this every time
something like that occurred while they had sex and he would wonder what it was
exactly that he liked about having sex with Paige, there was something else
beyond what he already knew. Certainly, her body was a part of the equation,
she was trim and fit but curved where he had discovered his tastes aligned. But,
it wasn’t that. The answer was right there, he just had to accept it. He liked
– no, loved the fleeting singe her nails would leave in his flesh, the way his
skin would come alive with a burning fever after a hard slap and the confusing
tingle he felt at the base of his neck when she insulted him. It was like he
had been depraved from intimate touch for so long that his body now yearned for
it to be dialled up to eleven to make up for all the lost time. The fact he
liked it would never explain why he did, and though Paige had assured him she
thought it was totally chill, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was
something else to be added to the long list of things wrong with him.
“Paige, why do
I like it when you slap me?”
“Because you’re
a kinky little fuck,” she teased.
Maybe it was
that simple and none of this deserved as much thought as he was currently
putting into it. But the question would always remain, was he forgetting some
transformative moment in his childhood (a definite possibility), had some
neurons in his brain been fried and consequently forged a series of unusual
pathways (similarly, a likely scenario) or perhaps Paige was an ancient
succubus disguised as a bratty Australian girl (this one was admittedly a
little far-fetched).
Paige had
fallen asleep with her arm across his chest, her face pressed against his
shoulder, he traced his finger along each stick and poke tattoo on her arm
admiring the scratchy design and rustic feel. Before he joined her, he
carefully reached over the side of the bed to grab the amulet from his pants.
His thumb ran over the bronze surface, over the little emeralds circling the
face, over the lookalike seven formed from roots. There was something
incredibly peculiar about this amulet. He couldn’t quite place it, he just knew
that by holding it, he was holding up something greater. Like, everything he
had ever known and unknown hinged on this moment right here. The left-most
emerald had awoken, its gaze bore into Jonah’s. An electric shock clamped his
fingers shut around the amulet.
Then he saw it,
a seven, and another seven and another. They flew past him speeding into a
static vortex all around him. He knew then to surrender, to plummet into a deep
unconsciousness for if he chose to brave the maelstrom any further he may turn
to insanity. So surrender he did.
End Notes:
Next chapter it begins!
Will now resume with the weekly posting, thanks for reading.
Author's Notes:
And the size content begins.
Hope you enjoy!
Sirens. A gun.
A crimson demon dressed in a suit.
“The heat’s on
us. Regroup on Seventh?” The demon spoke fast and brief, his glossy face
unmoving as it shone under the sunlight. “Jay, you with me?” He nudged him with
the tip of his gun.
Jay? Oh. That’s
right. He was Jay, short for Jonah. They were in the middle of robbing a bank,
there was approximately $750,000 cash slung over his back. And this was his
friend – his accomplice, Loch of course, he wore a matching demon mask. The job
had gone awry, the getaway car wrecked by a telephone pole and now they were
hobbling through an alley preparing to split up.
“Fuck –
alright. Wait no longer than a minute. Don’t get cushy with me.” His words came
out so naturally, he was a professional.
They bolted
their separate ways, the police sirens wailed close. Jay turned the corner, his
shoes pounding against concrete, he hopped a fence and dashed across a busy
street, parents and their kin fled in response to the bloodied man. He was on
Sixth, down that alley and he’d be on Seventh, he trusted Loch would make it on
time. He bound down the lane, a mix match of old stores and factories closed in
on either side of him. He could see it, he was almost out when he ran straight
into a solid navy wall.
“And what do we
have here? A little criminal trying to escape?” A deep feminine tone
mocked.
Jay took a step
back, his eyes widening once he saw the huge black combat boots spread wide on
either side of his tiny dress shoes. Slowly, he craned his neck to gaze upon
the looming police officer. A muscular blonde giant, whose waist easily crested
his head. She was in an all-navy uniform, toned thighs filled her pants and there
was a vest around her chest with a variety of tools and gadgets. The two items
around her waist intimidated him most. A gun and a chunky pair of metal
handcuffs. He scrambled to his feet to try and run the other way but his legs
flailed uselessly in the air.
“Ah, ah!” She
gripped his head in her palm, letting the weight of her fingers settle around
his skull. “You’re under arrest mate.”
That voice, he
recognised it – Paige?!
She wrapped an
oversized palm around his backside and hoisted him up to face her with the ease
at which one would move a child. Her name was Paige Fowler but call her Officer
Fowler lest you wish to be shining her boots every morning. She loved this part
of the job, the power that would course through her beefy arms when manhandling
those smaller than her, relishing in their plight between her thick fingers and
the compact feeling of their body in her palms. This one in particular, a
little bank robber in a Japanese demon mask, his struggling had ceased so she
shook him, a squeeze of his ass to elicit a squeak.
“Paige!” He
shouted.
“Huh?!” She was
stunned, how did this runt know her name. “Who are you?”
“It’s me,” he
pulled off his mask, “Jonah.”
Jonah? “Jonah!”
She became lucid then, aware of her dream. This was her friend Jonah, though
for some odd reason he was the size of a toddler and she was, a police officer and
incredibly jacked? She’d probably been in the midst of some weird wet dream
again (as per usual). But, what she didn’t expect was for this freaky little
conjured up version of Jonah to start speaking to her like he knew he was
dreaming too.
“Paige,” he
started, “the amulet, it caused this – it caused this dream to happen. I was
staring at it like two seconds ago and then – fuck, I don’t know I saw a bunch
of sevens and then I was here.”
“You saw a
bunch of sevens? Like in your vision? Are you fuckin’ insane?” She hardly
believed it. This was just a dream, this wasn’t the real Jonah, it was a vision
from her sub-conscious – honestly, it made sense that he was a seven-raving
lunatic.
As their conscious
roused, the dream became unclear, a shady mist enveloped the surroundings and
the sensation of their bodies weakened. Their heads unable to house both this
immense dreamscape and the thoughts reserved for their awakened selves.
Jonah woke
first, blinking the sleep aside. Amazingly, unlike every other morning this
week, he awoke in the same place he fell asleep and his eyes didn’t sting from
overuse. He took a moment to close them and appreciate the cooling sensation
his eyelids provided. But, as rapid as his waking thoughts, the expansive
warmth across his back and the lightly freckled arm draped over his shoulder
came into the equation.
Something was
off. The arms wrapped around his shoulders were – wait, they were massive? With
a mix match of home drawn tattoos lining the length of the forearms. They
were Paige’s, except blown up in proportion. Was he still dreaming? He yelped
in surprise when one of her hands glided down his stomach and gripped his waist,
pulling him tight into her crotch, from the very strength of her grip, he could
tell her thick-padded fingers would leave a fading mark.
“Mmmmrr. Jonah?”
Her voice was strained as it always was in the morning. “Jonah.” She
sounded confused, a level of distress lingered too in her calling his name. Her
palm wrapped around his shoulder and rolled him to face her.
“What the
fuck,” they said in unison.
“What the
actual fuck,” Paige added, wiping the sleep from her eye.
Jonah could
hardly believe what laid before him, his toes only reached her waist, and her
two bare breasts were stacked on top of each other, each one almost as big as
his head. His attention turned to the now much larger amulet still clasped in hand
and he brought it between them – was it you?.
Paige’s eyes
widened, had that actually been Jonah in her dream? The same one who lay across
from her like he was her child. “Holy shit. That was you.” His entire frame
was perfectly proportional, just a hell of a lot more compact. She cursed to
herself, feeling that intense urge rush between her legs, now was not the time.
Hesitantly (and because she couldn’t help herself), she tracked down the length
of their bodies, enchanted by how her hips and stomach rose over him, a shadow
cast across Jonah from the eclipsed morning sun rays. Her tits as well, far too
large for him now, he’d need a whole hand to massage her stiffening nipples.
With only the two of them in this bed, she couldn’t help but relish in the rush
that coursed through her, it was certainly a unique feeling, being the biggest
one in the room. God, she couldn’t help it, could she? It really wasn’t the
time to be thinking about this.
He ignored her
wonderment, enwrapped by his own. The way she so easily upheld the rack on her
chest, her nipples already beginning to harden in true Paige fashion and how
she could lounge there with so, so much… body. Since knowing her, she
had always been small, she had pixie-like features that he thought of as cute
as much as he thought attractive. But as her giant sapphire iris glossed over
his, he found her more predatory than anything else. While they lay there on
their side, he was glued to her muscles like he were observing some mighty nude
statue built by the Romans – with their features and definition cut to
perfection. A sharp pain shot up his arm, he was still clenching the amulet like
it owed him money.
“Jonah. Cunt.
You with me?” She prodded his shoulder, watching as it rocked back and forth
with her touch, she had gotten herself somewhat under control after seeing the
light go out in his eyes.
As if
resurfacing from the bottom of a pool, he breathed. “Paige. Why am I so fucking
small?”
She stifled a
shaken chuckle by rolling on her back to speak to the ceiling, her head was
always foggy in the morning. “You said it was that amulet thing right?”
Was it? He
glanced at its bronze face, the left-most emerald was now glowing a brilliant
green in contrast to the dull remaining six. What in the world could that mean?
He showed Paige and she pinched the amulet from between his fingers, she too
took note of the glow. She’d never seen anything like it, the only solution
that popped into her mind was to ask the store clerk they’d stolen from (it
took her a minute though, her mind now preoccupied by the image of the goth
woman). “We should bring it back to that chick with the huge tits. Surely she
knows what’s up,” she said.
“I guess that
makes the most sense,” he spoke in an inaudible whisper, he’d gone quiet again.
His current predicament had begun to truly set in. Should he not have been
reacting in a more alarmed manner. What if he was stuck like this? What if he
got smaller? What would his father think if he showed up at the same height he
had been when he was seven? And though he had felt somewhat cured of his
insomnia, that familiar feeling came back, the feeling that struck when
something became too much or felt unfeasible and he treated the situation with
an indifference that bordered on oppressive. The ledge had become impossible to
cling to, his fingers aching and begging for rest. So, he let go. Falling, away
from the light, away from Paige and away from anything and everything. For he
was now locked away to watch his life play out before him, wandering alone
through that endless concrete maze.
Paige rolled
toward him, it had been a few days since he had entered a state like this with
her – often it was a sharp transition, where a phrase or situation would
trigger his eyes to glaze over and his wit to turn bland. She often wondered if
he realised how obvious it was when he slipped back into it. He was clearly
troubled, yet she could sense another layer concealed away, one he kept from
anyone but himself. She didn’t claim to know what was going on inside his head and
no matter how badly she wanted to know, she knew it wasn’t that simple. She
related it to her personal experience, when she lay in bed intently listening
to thoughts that didn’t sound like her own taunt her in the early hours of the
morning. Paige had figured out a cure for these episodes, simply to scream in
frustration at her wall until her head was so full of anger that every other
emotion forcibly shut down. It may have been – 7:17AM on the dot – but she was
determined to break him from his spell.
“Hey Jonah.”
There was no
response.
“Get the fuck
up.” She leapt over him, landing with her fists akimbo against her hips.
“Paige?” He
said quietly.
“I said
get the fuck up shortstack.” There was a cross look on her face, one that told
Jonah if he didn’t do as he was told he’d be punished. “Stand the fuck up
Jonah.” She was unaware of her own strength (or rather Jonah’s lack of size)
that when she tried to prod him he was sent rolling over. She tried not to feel
bad, it was for his own good.
An earthquake
ripped through the labyrinth, dust and cement shuddering from the roof. Jonah
began to panic, the structural integrity of his mind under attack. He was still
a bystander allowing his actions to play autonomously, and while he would
normally walk in silence until he gained control, Paige’s intervention had awakened
an emotion that had laid dormant for months. It was an almost forgotten feeling
for Jonah, but unlike before, where his emotions were content to sit and
marinate, this one was begging to be released into the world, bucking against
its restraints, like a volcano on the verge of eruption. He pounced to his
feet, standing on the mattress he was thankfully eye level with Paige, he
wanted to tell her to stop but she pushed him back down. He stood and again she
pushed back. “Stop fucking pushing me,” he snarled, his words didn’t feel like
his own.
“Yeah. Or
what?”
Jonah was
stumped, his realities were merging. “Fuck off.” She went to push him again and
he weakly grabbed her wrist.
“Yell at me
Jonah.”
“What?”
“Fuckin’ yell
at me. As loud as you fuckin’ can!” Her voice rose in volume and tone like she
were giving a grand battle cry.
“Wha – no? I’m
not doing that,” he said, shuddering under her intensity.
“Fuckin’ do
it.” She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close so that their noses almost
touched. “Or I’m gonna smack the shit out of you.”
He was
speechless, the weight of her hands very much told him that he did not want
that.
“Do it!” She
yelled, rattling his body back and forth.
And now, he
wanted to. He really wanted to. Because of everything that had happened to him,
his fucking birth to his fucking mother to fucking Paige who threw him around
like a ragdoll. That’s when he realised, this feeling was what he had been
looking for, it didn’t belong to the stranger controlling his actions, it was
his, Jonah’s. Seven months ago on that fated day, it had felt like an awful
concoction of poison rotting away in the pit of his stomach, at the time the slurry
of components were impossible to pick apart, but there was one that had risen
above the others. And now that his mind had been incinerated into clarity, he
was utterly offended, that the stranger who acted as he could pretend to know
what it was like to be Jonah. All that was required was his action. A simple
action to expel the bubbling magma within his core. From the passenger seat,
Jonah could see what Paige was doing, she had thrown a lifejacket over the side
of a sinking ship to save him, he only had to reach out and take it. It would
be easy, the pressure had enough time to build. Just do it. Just fuckin’ do
it.
“Fuck you
Paige. Fuck you Paige!” He shouted.
“Nah – fuck you
Jonah!” She shouted back, a heavy finger prod his chest.
“Fuck,” he
stumbled. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck this. Fuck everything. Fucking cunt fuck!”
“Fuckin’ fuck
Silverleaf.” Paige stomped her feet with each word, the whole room shaken by
her ferocity.
“Fuck Silverleaf,”
he agreed with a stern nod. “And fuck this stupid fucking amulet,” it clinked
uselessly against the wall he pegged it at.
“Jonah,” she
dragged him close by the shoulders again. “Tell me. Who do you hate the most?
Curse their fuckin’ name.”
Their fierce
eyes were locked in tandem, Jonah wouldn’t back down now. No. Now, he felt like
he could conquer the fucking world. “Fuck Miriam! Fuck that miserable cunt so
fucking much.”
Paige grinned a
devilish grin, she leant her head back to the ceiling and yelled at the top of
her lungs: “Fuck Kevin! Fuck Colon! Fuck James!”
“And fuck you.”
“No – fuck
you.”
“Fuck.”
“Cunt.”
“FUCK!” Jonah
screamed and smashed his fists against his legs to expel any remaining bits of
explosivity. He slouched to the mattress – not defeated but tired. He knew it
to be hopeless, but there was a small part of him that thought maybe just by
letting everything out he’d return to his normal size. He was thankful though,
to Paige, for yanking him up before he fell too far.
“Do you feel
better?” Paige asked, curious if her prescription had truly worked.
“I feel fucking
pissed.”
Paige snickered
and sat next to him, her added weight an unwelcome surprise as Jonah seesawed
into her side. Her arm wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him tight, his
cheek smushed against her underboob. “C’mon ya little shit, being short ain’t
so bad – and that’s coming from me,” she noogied his head. There was an absurd
pleasure to be found in holding his body weight like he were a child, his small
warmth snug against her skin. And while she couldn’t help but allow a smidgen
of waking arousal creep back into her mind, after all, she and Jonah had made
it somewhat of a habit to begin their day with a quick fuck. It felt wrong to
think of him in that way while they dealt with whatever this was (but
damn if that wasn’t making it even hotter).
Jonah snorted
and closed his eyes. He did feel better. He felt more in control. Honestly, a
lot more than he usually did, that feeling of anger had finally been captured
and compartmentalised. He peered up past the swell of Paige’s bust with doe
eyes that she would come to love and said, “but Paige – thank you.”
Her horny
thoughts froze at his words, now begging that her blush couldn’t be seen from
his lowly perspective. She felt so, so silly, but his thanks gave her butterflies,
similar to when he hung onto her every word while she told an exaggerated story
or allowed her to rant about why post-punk was an objectively positive
evolution to the punk rock genre. And among a cohort of students who were
beginning to think about their future and what they’d become, she found herself
left behind in their conversations with little to add because she had accepted
that she’d never be quite enough to achieve success. Jonah – as complex as he
was – alleviated that worry, not that she didn’t believe it anymore, but at
least when she was with him she could pretend she was someone else, someone
sure of themselves and confident in their approach to life.
“We’ll figure
it out,” she said.
“God, I fucking
hope so,” he muttered and after a moment of tension they laughed.
Paige freshened
up and applied a new layer of eyeliner and mascara while Jonah constructed
their plan of action: head back to Mottlebong and tear into the lady working
there about how she could be so careless to have an amulet that can shrink
people on display and hopefully glean from her a way to reverse the effects. In
the midst of their discussion a knock on the door froze them in their tracks.
“Kids? I heard
some shouting before, is everything okay?” The bald man who checked them in
said from the other side.
Jonah and Paige
looked at each other, a silent argument between their eyes until Paige cut in.
“Yeah – uh. We’re okay. We’ll be checking out in a sec.” Jonah seconded her
reassurance.
“No need love,
I couldn’t live with myself if I charged a couple of kids.” A hearty chuckle
devolved into a coughing fit. Paige rolled her eyes and theatrically feigned a
retch, she hated the habit old men had of calling any woman under the age of 30
love (Jonah thought it was a nice gesture at least). His footsteps shuffled
back down the corridor, his cough relentless.
“We can’t let
him see me like this,” Jonah said finally to which Paige agreed.
They changed back into their clothes, well
Paige did, Jonah managed to slip into his shirt, the hem of the button up
reached down to his knees and now he looked like a kid who had found their way
into their parents closet.
“I look
ridiculous,” he said.
“You look very
handsome mister,” she pinched his cheek in her huge hand.
After impatiently
waiting for Paige to stop laughing and asking if he needed any assistance
climbing on the bed, they busted open the window facing the pines outside and
crawled out.
The sky was
devoid of clouds, it was an unusually warm winter day and the trees were still.
Jonah had silently been getting used to his diminished size, sneaking glances
at Paige as they snuck around the side of the building, it was incredibly
distracting, having to walk behind her, staring up at her ass packed into those
jeans, the way the denim of her jeans contorted with each step and how her
boots outsized his feet with ease, loudly crunching the foliage beneath. After
bolting through the tree line toward the road they had previously travelled
along, Paige caught one of his wandering glances as he lagged behind her.
“What?”
“It’s just really
weird. Seeing you so tall.” He gestured upwards, puffing from their sudden
burst.
“You’re the one
who shrunk. I’m still short as fuck,” she snorted, “you’re like, a dwarf or
something.”
She had a
point, he barely made it to her waist. The thought of comparing himself to
someone even taller was enough to send a shiver down his spine. It helped to
imagine he was the normal one here, and it was Paige who had grown instead,
which would at least be an entertaining chaos. “Cool it with the shit talk, I
can only get so hard.”
“Ha! Don’t
tempt me Jonah,” she said, but it was too late, she was already considering and
thinking then imagining it, her hormones responded accordingly. “You know what
we should do?”
Jonah knew
exactly what she wanted to do, so he played the fool. “What?”
“We should fuck
in the woods.”
His body was
keen, but truthfully he was unsure how their new size difference would come
into the equation. The bordering tree line would provide ample coverage, so it
all came down to if he was game enough. “Are you sure?”
Paige crossed
her arms and made her already imposing figure seem even larger. “Did you really
just ask if I was sure if I wanted to have sex? Me – of all people Jonah? Seriously?”
Her challenge
was the final straw and they removed themselves from the road, dry undergrowth
crunching beneath their feet as they walked, paced no – ran deeper into the
forest, their arousal building the further they went without sating it. Paige
led them to a small clearing, a perfect, flat rock baked under the rising sun
surrounded by looming pines.
“Pants off
squirt,” she commanded.
He eagerly nodded
from just under her waist and reached his hands to the golden button holding
her zipper together, it was harder than it looked to pry the tight denim apart.
Paige’s curiosity and arousal combined within the cauldron of her thoughts, she
usually had him on his knees when he did this, but now he could barely reach her
hip while standing at his full height. There was something so – it was hard to
place it – but so alluring about the fact that taking her pants off required a
full body effort. Jonah tugged downwards on the zipper and was immediately
struck by the fishy scent emanating from within, he tried peering up over her
stretched white top, only to have her chest obstruct her face.
Paige wrapped
her palm around his head and pulled it into her crotch, she bit her lip to
stifle a moan and leant over to harshly whisper in his ear. “My pussy’s fuckin’
starving Jonah.”
Oh my god.
Jonah could feel his nose snake between her lips, his nostrils burnt with intoxicating
warmth. His heart was racing and blood rushed between his legs, he stripped his
shirt off at a blistering pace. Paige’s fingers drummed against his head, their
thick pads caressed his neck and if he tested her strength by trying to pull
away she didn’t budge. When they had sex, there was always an underlying safety
for Jonah, since she was a naturally small person, her strength often betrayed
her intentions. But now, he could feel the full brunt of her lust in each jerk
and twist of her immense body.
The flat rock
acted as a bench as Paige let her weight fall backwards, and much to her
pleasure, she had to look downward to meet Jonah’s eye. She would be lying if
she didn’t say she found that exciting. Standing at five foot two, she had
always been shorter than most and especially in bed, she’d never had a partner
shorter than her. So, to be staring down at someone half her size, someone who
(judging by the hard rod between his legs) was very eager to please her. Someone
she could manhandle with ease, she wrapped her hand around his throat this time
– entirely, until her fingers overlapped. She released and he breathed deep,
his lungs blue from a lack of oxygen. It was totally exhilarating.
“You’re not
gonna know what hit you,” Jonah said while trying to clamber onto her lap.
“So naïve.” Her
hands snaked around his hips and she hoisted him up. “You’re pretty confident
for a ragdoll.”
Jonah buried
his head between her tits and squeezed them as best his shrunken hands could, her
flesh gobbled up his attempts, tweaking her nipples until they filled the space
between his fingers. With his legs wrapped around her waist, she cupped each of
his ass cheeks in her huge hands and his squirming increased tenfold as she
spread them and let her fingers explore deeper in his crack. “Wait – wait. Just
wait.” Jonah peered up at her, frightened by the large digits snaking their way
dangerously close to his rear door, their lingering trail electric.
“Where’d all
that confidence go big fella?” Paige had a smug grin as she leaned in to ask,
her fingers still squeezing and plying with his flesh, he was putty in her
hands.
On his fourth
night in Silverleaf, Paige had made a grab for his ass similar to the one she
currently held him in, albeit she wasn’t able to hold him in her lap at the
time. But, to his complete surprise, while she was massaging the area around,
she snuck a finger into his asshole, his eyes had bugged and he gripped Paige’s
shoulders in shock (she hurriedly pulled back and asked if he was okay). The
feeling had been strange, he’d never been touched anywhere remotely close
before, let alone a whole finger. Though the feeling wasn’t entirely awful, it
was strangely pleasurable, not in the way that getting off was, but in a way
that debased him even further and Paige had seemed to especially love how he
squirmed and whined in her hands. She had discussed boundaries afterwards,
obviously if he didn’t enjoy it she would never do it again, but he had told
her he enjoyed it, not because he didn’t but also because he was afraid she’d
decide they were no longer a fit. Jonah knew he could stop her at any time,
they’d decided on a safe word that night – Kevin – though that had been when he
could comfortably peer over her head.
Now, as they
gazed into each other’s eyes, he felt entirely intimidated by the behemoth who
held him by the waist with her bare hands, light reflected off her piercings
and her bleached hair glowed a platinum white under the sun. He felt even
smaller enwrapped by her body, she had the look of a predator, sneering and
investigative, a wolf prowling the forest for prey unfortunate enough to be
caught in her vicinity. And he, a meek and shaken rabbit, who should be
quivering beneath a tuft of foliage begging to be spared. Instead, he was
caught by the scruff of his neck in her maw, thinking he had some kind of death
wish.
He wanted to
brave it, scream at her to just do it already, or stay calm and collected and
maintain his image as someone who could keep up with any antic she suggested.
What he actually said failed to align with his wishes. “Just,” he sighed,
avoiding her gaze, “be careful Paige.”
“Hey.” She
brought his chin to meet her eye. “We don’t have to.”
Somehow, her
understanding was worse than her penetrating, he didn’t want her to see him as
weak and needing of special treatment. He recalled her words on his first night
with her: “It feels better to tame a tiger than a cat.”
“I never said
stop.” He nipped at the finger upholding his chin.
Paige’s concern vanished in an instant, her
brow raised and a cocky smile. “Suck it bitch.” Her pointer shoved itself into
his mouth, covering his tongue and reaching the inside of his cheeks. With a
pop she removed it and he felt the confines of her hand around his ass again,
the wet tip of her finger crawling closer and closer, the cool sensation
guiding a trail to his back door. “Ready?” Her brow raised.
Jonah nodded
and immediately, she pushed. He hadn’t expected one finger to feel as stretched
as he did now and groaned deep into her bosom, intense pulsing radiated from
his insides. Before he had a chance to consider if it felt good or
uncomfortable, Paige aimed his cock to her pussy and rammed him inside her. She
was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to feel him at his reduced size but combined
with the degrading act she had pulled off and Jonah’s whines between her tits,
it didn’t even matter – at this point a feather could get her off.
Explosions of
rich pleasure racked his mind, rattling his brain around his skull until he
could no longer think a single clear thought. His waist downwards had become
paralysed through overstimulation and his legs flailed around her, he could see
through the glimpses of his own shut eyes that Paige had rolled her head back
and was chewing aggressively on her lip, her moans suppressed to the best of
her ability.
They charged. Their
pace quickened until it felt like the friction would cause a fire to erupt from
between their legs. Together, they leant back and deeply groaned as their
climax reached its peak, their moans echoing around the forested coverage.
Paige rolled Jonah to the side and they lay with their nude backs against the
hot rock, staring into the vast, never-ending blue sky, winter had taken the
day off, gifting them a sheen of sweat.
“Holy fucking
shit,” Jonah said with a scoff of disbelief.
Paige burst
into laughter, her eyes creased and her hands clapped together, even she was
shocked with herself for going through with it. “I know – I know,” she said
between draws of breath.
Like always,
they debriefed about what had felt good, what had felt bad and what had felt
fucking amazing, Paige had firmly believed in communication from the start and
sought out to make it equally pleasurable for the both of them. At first, Jonah
was embarrassed to talk about the sex they just had, but those worries were
quickly alleviated by the way she spoke to him about it, she was intrigued and
open to his opinions and ideas and though during the act, she was dominant and provocative,
afterwards her touch no longer had an aggressive force to it, it was sweet and
light as it danced across his olive skin.
He found
himself snuggled next to her, a reversal of their usual position, with Paige’s
arm wrapped around his neck and down his back. Oddly, he found it rather
comforting to be enwrapped by her like this, and in their silence it almost sounded
like Paige was purring along to his fingernail scratching circles on her stomach,
running up and over the small bump of her abdominals. For the first time in a
while, he could say with definitive proof that he was comfortable, no longer
stuck in the largely ignored orphanage system and his height strangely no
longer a bother to him, somehow he could tell they would figure it out. Instead,
he basked in the feeling of their bodies compressed together and the calming
rhythm of her chest rising and falling. He was thankful, thankful that Paige
had been kind enough to welcome him into her life and then accompany him on his
outrageous request. Even though he had only known Paige for a little over a
week, he had never, ever felt closer to anyone else.
End Notes:
New chapter next week, not sure exactly when as I'm going away for a while but I'll upload when I get the chance.
Hope you enjoyed!
Sable's Emporium by fosmat
Author's Notes:
Jonah and Paige are off to find out about the amulet,
What shenanigans will they run into?
Hope you enjoy!
Coming down
from the high of their spontaneous sex, they lounged across a flat rock as the
sun primed itself for an amber afternoon. After their debrief, stamina returned,
they continued on their journey. Paige carried her jacket in the nook of her
arm and longed for a cigarette, Jonah on the other hand was beginning to see
some of the downsides of his size. Yesterday, Paige had been the one to
complain about the long trek but now, he was finding it increasingly exhausting
to keep up with her strides. He tried keeping it to himself, yet she had
noticed the redness in his cheeks and the pants between steps. Begrudgingly, he
dealt with her teasing, at least someone found enjoyment in their bizarre role
reversal.
“What if we had
a race?” She’d suggest while easing into a speed walking pace, Jonah having to
jog to keep up. “Oh fuck, my boots are undone,” she’d say and suddenly stop in
her tracks to bend over, giving Jonah a face full of ass as he ran straight
into her. “You sure you don’t want a piggyback ride little guy?” She’d say over
her shoulder, a triumphant smirk on her face.
Jonah had had
enough. “I know what I want to ride,” he jumped to slap her ass and ducked away
giggling as she chased after him, threatening him with all kinds of ludicrous
acts.
Mottlebong emerged
from between the looming pines, still as lifeless as ever, a fact which was not
lost on Jonah and Paige. How could any store survive with zero customers? Once
they arrived at the dilapidated antique store – Sable’s Emporium, they agreed
on a bad cop bad cop dynamic (Paige assured him two bad cops were better than
one) and if the clerk mentioned the fact it was stolen, they would act clueless.
The bell above the door signalled their entrance and they paced toward the
counter, ignoring the strangeness of the store. Paige cut the generic store
introduction short, “Yeah, hi. We were in yesterday,” she paused to check the
name badge on the goth clerk’s voluptuous chest (focus Paige, focus). “And Lilith,
we were just wondering,” Her eyes shot back up, her sweetest smile on, doing
her best to comfort Lilith with just a look, “if you could explain what the
fuck this is?” Jonah was yanked from behind her by the arm and she slammed the
amulet on the table, her smile replaced with a scowl.
Lilith took a
step back, eyes darting between an angry munchkin and the bronze amulet, she was
speechless. Not because of Jonah’s size, but because the amulet was only
supposed to be a mere accessory. She briefly remembered these two from
yesterday (a plain pair compared to the regulars), but had she served them? Finally,
after suffering under their impatient gaze, she found her words. “I don’t – uh.
That’s not supposed to happen.”
“Well, it did.”
Jonah had his arms crossed and was tapping his foot, the dramatic effect lost
as Lilith had to take a second to lean a touch over the counter to see the scowl
on his face.
“And we want you
to fix it,” Paige added quickly, mirroring his stance.
The clerk was
flustered, she didn’t usually deal with unhappy customers. “Let me call my
boss,” she offered a reassuring smile, as much as she could. Lilith disappeared
behind a weathered satin curtain, her hushed whispers unable to be overhead.
The minutes
stretched on as Lilith’s whispers seemed to become more frantic. “This is
bullshit,” Paige had said to which Jonah promptly agreed (mostly to calm her impatience). “So fucking bullshit.”
Eventually,
Lilith swiped back the curtain and sheepishly stood before them. “Firstly, we
just want to apologise for the inconvenience, here at Sable’s we try to offer
customer support that is second to none!” Jonah and Paige weren’t impressed.
“And, um. Secondly, my boss wants to meet you guys, she can handle this far
better than I can.” She offered another shaky smile, “I can drive you to her
place.”
Lilith led them
to the backside of the store, where a janky white Toyota Ute was parked. Jonah
had stepped aside to let her lumber past, she was taller than Paige, so he only
made it up halfway on her thigh. He caught himself staring at her rounded
backside as they walked into the bright day from the side door, the weight of
it heaving back and forth, her meaty flesh wobbled the dress she wore as much
as her chest did (he realised then that Paige’s pervasive habit had become his
own).
“It’s a
certified shitbox,” Paige said.
“It was my
dad’s.” Lilith gave a nervous laugh and opened the side door for them. “There’s
room for three, but it’s a tight fit.”
The three of
them crammed themselves inside the claustrophobic interior, Jonah had the
misfortune (or fortune depending on how you look at it) of being compressed
between the two titans, in a plush valley of covered flesh. “Sorry, sorry,”
Lilith had said while her wide hips steamrolled his leg, his whole right side swampy
from her impressive curves pressed against him. A similar situation on his
left, as Paige accidentally (purposely) thumped her leg over his, offering an
apology defying smirk as she did so. He felt smaller than ever, his legs eaten
up by the thighs on either side of him.
The dashboard
was littered with trinkets expected to be owned by someone like Lilith,
crystals and skulls and all things gothic. “So, what, you some kind of witch or
some shit?” Paige asked as the Ute’s engine sputtered to life, like she was
oblivious to Jonah’s plight below.
Lilith’s huge
hand reached between Jonah’s knees to shift into gear, the stick forcing his legs
apart. “Something like that. I only started the job a few months ago.”
“How many
months ago?” Jonah asked, trying to treat the conversation with normality
despite not even being able to see past her heavy rack.
Lilith paused
to count in her head. “Seven, I think.”
Paige nudged
Jonah. “Our old friend.”
The countryside
scrolled past, sprawling green fields now in place of the pines as they drove
further away from Mottlebong, it was going to be a long three-hour drive. Paige
had drifted off against the window, leaving Jonah and Lilith to sit in silence,
he’d grown used to her hulking warmth. He leant on Paige’s arm and pondered the
day so far. It had been rather eventful and truthfully he was tired, though
that was not out of the ordinary for him (he won’t admit it, but he was also
hurting from the sex). The shrinking and their shouting match before were
especially prominent components of his wondering mind. He had said her name
again, even after he had promised himself to never say or think of it again. He
had told Paige his mother’s name – Miriam.
They had lived
together in a small Queenslander in the suburbs when he was younger, the open
planned home allowed the breeze to sail through and the wrap-around porch
overlooked a freshly trimmed lawn across the road from the nearby rugby fields.
His parents had been living there for a year before he came along, a hopeful child
to patch the emerging holes in their marriage. The yellow walls in that home
had been thin, and the nights between his parents yelling matches grew thinner,
until finally, it all stopped. His father said goodbye, confusedly tears ran
down his face. Why are you crying dad? He had thought in the moment. He
would come to realise why, but at the time he took solace in the nights where
he could listen to the chorus of crickets outside instead of muffled curses. Though
unlike his father, he had always felt strange around Miriam, and now that they
lived alone together, he began to feel an oppressive haze choke the air around
him, like he was a stranger who had overstayed his welcome. Sometimes, he would
ask where dad was and she would ignore him, or rarely, she’d simply say: “He’s
dead.” She was lying, she had to be. As the years wore on, her demeanour worsened,
they had to move from their house to a mobile home and she’d picked up the
nasty habit of being unable to hold a job for longer than a few months and
instead of attempting to find comfort in her son’s presence, she drunk more. His
tenth birthday, the first time Miriam had thrown an empty wine bottle at his
head. She had screamed at him – blamed him for everything, his father leaving,
her failed life and his inability to be a normal kid. That was also the first time
Jonah disappeared into the woods, youthful tears running down his cheeks as the
guilt finally had its way with him, he’d been brave before, internalising the
shortcomings of his life, and now, it all came out. His thoughts screeching
like a cave full of bats, shrieking at him to be better, that he was the reason
he’d never see his dad again.
Since that day,
he made it his mission to please her, if he had to earn her love, then so be it.
He cleaned their mobile home from top to bottom and responded immediately to
any request she had. He was determined to be a son she could rely on. But the
verbal abuse never ceased and he would continue to escape into the woods to
rack his brain on how he could do better, it was the only place where he could
think clearly. Miriam also never allowed him to keep possessions, that was his
punishment for what he’d done, the tiny, cramped closet he slept in was to be
devoid of personality. He kept the walls bare, but in some childish act of
defiance he held a secret compartment of items beneath a loose floorboard, his
only possessions – sticks, rocks and leaves as well as a small collection of
books stolen from the local library. After one of her particularly bad
episodes, one spurred by his inability to fetch her wine in time, he had left
the house to collect as many fallen Jacaranda flowers as he could, his best
effort at an apology. But as soon as he had stepped foot inside, her hand
struck him across the mouth.
“Do you take me
for some kind of fucking idiot Jonah?” She had said while dumping his precious
belongings at her feet.
“No Miriam.”
His head was low, she didn’t like when he called her mum.
“Then what the
fuck is this?” She hissed and pinched his ear.
He broke down
into tears, he cried a lot when he was a kid, a trait that his mother had truly
despised about him. And in her rage she locked him outside, to brave the frosty
winter alone, initially he had slammed himself against the door, begging to be
let back in, screaming his apologies but was only met with silence, and so he
found himself curled beneath their porch, his body shaking from both the biting
cold and regret for making his mother so displeased with him. He knew now that
she was a miserable old woman, that she had only kept him around as a
punishment to his father, to keep from him what he loved most, but at the time
he suffered from years of blaming himself for the awful life they led, how
could someone put that on a child? Those were the years where he was supposed
to be making friends and getting up to whatever shenanigans kids got up to, but
instead he was trapped with someone who hated his very existence.
At this point,
these memories only served to fuel his anger and he found himself scowling at
the gear stick between his legs. Whenever he ventured into this abyssal part of
his mind, he would creep past a heavy metal door into a vast circular concrete
room, footsteps echoing to the unseen chambers above, he knew this was a place
that he mustn’t spend too long in. Droves of filing cabinets stacked hundreds
high, all linked to a specific day in his life, some overflowed with documents
while others sat empty and forgotten. What kept him from rifling through his
past all at once sat in the middle of the room, an enormous cage – a thick tarp
draped over to conceal whatever monstrosity dwelled within. He thought of it as
the protector of this place, its snarls and murmurs would increase in volume
and frequency if he came too close. In the past, simply witnessing this
colourless room would send him careening into a multi-day blackout, where he
would wake with cold sweats and bouts of amnesia. Nowadays, he could spend a
few minutes palming through the cabinets, always alert to the beast in the
centre for as soon as the time arose where he must leave, he would with haste.
One day, he would pull the tarp away from that horrid cage, that’s what he
promised himself. He shut the iron door and returned to the decorated interior
of Lilith’s Ute.
Lilith reached
over to turn the volume knob on the dashboard, a gritty riff grew in volume.
She hummed along to the music, they were nearing their destination.
Paige had
apparently awoken. “Bitta Interpol huh?”
“I love ‘em. Saw
them a few years ago,” Lilith said without taking her eye off the road, she
reached into the side of the seat and pulled a fresh pack of cigarettes. “You
smoke?”
Paige’s eyes
grew ten times in size, her heart rate suddenly fluttering. Yes, fucking yes
please, yes. “Yeah, if you don’t mind,” she said.
The two discussed
music for the remainder of the trip while Paige chuffed down as many cigs as
Lilith offered, her head spinning along with their conversation about the bands
Lilith had seen and what they thought of the current genre climate. Jonah found
comfort in listening to Paige talk, she had a certain knack for conversation.
They pulled up
to a long driveway flanked by greenery, one that lead to a moderate
asymmetrical cottage on the top of a hill, smoke billowing from its crooked
chimney. Its architecture – dark and gloomy with pointed arches and external
buttresses, gargoyles menacingly hung from the roof. Lilith parked outside and
the three of them exited, Jonah took a moment to sink into the indent left by
Paige.
“My boss –
Sable,” Lilith began as they reached the front door. “She’s – well, she’s
interesting.” That’s one way to put it, she thought to herself and rapped her
knuckles on the intricately detailed door.
Within a
cacophony of what sounded like plates smashing and hurried yelling instantly
silenced once Lilith knocked. Footsteps approached from inside, the
recognisable clack of heels. The door swung open to reveal a lofty mature-aged
woman, easily towering over both Lilith and Paige, not to mention Jonah who
stared right into her pale knees, her overpowering floral perfume polluting the
trio’s air supply as she fanned her face. She had jet-black hair with silver
streaks running through it and a black corset and dress that matched Lilith’s,
all she was missing was a pointy hat and broom.
Paige’s eyes
almost gawked out of her head, she was met by two enormous breasts that wobbled
ever so subtly under the hulking witches movements. If she wasn’t trying to act
as a disgruntled customer, she would have tackled Sable then and there to tear
her top off to get at those fuckin’ titties. Goddamn, she’s stacked.
“Lilith dear,
how many times must I tell you to park around the back,” she said, her voice
full and mature, much too preoccupied to notice Paige’s ogling.
“Oh, I – um.
Sorry Sable,” Lilith looked down at her fidgeting feet.
Sable huffed
her apology away and shifted her focus to Paige and then down to Jonah. “And you
two must be our new little friends. Please, you must come in.” She moved to the
side and waved for them to enter, the blonde girls eyes lingered on her before
they seemed to snap back to reality. Jonah and Paige glanced at each other
before entering, the midget sized man was apparently not worth her mention.
The interior
very much matched the exterior’s aesthetic. Black. Lots of black and shelves
lining each wall, rows of jars filled with otherworldly ingredients (and every
spice under the sun), pots and pans and brooms and bones and a black cat
darting around broken shards of glass. The kitchen was a mess, a cast iron
cauldron bubbled next to an embellished dining room table situated beneath an
ornate chandelier. It was like someone had jampacked the props from every witch
related piece of media in existence into a dusty lodge.
“Murray!” Sable
exclaimed and thundered over to the cat who dashed between her legs, knocking
over another two jars in the process. “Lilith! Help me out here,” she eeked
while chasing it with her arms outstretched, Lilith leapt into action.
Ignoring the
absolute bizarre nature of the home, Paige gaped with great interest at their
desperate attempts, likewise, Jonah could not take his eyes of Sable as he too
dealt with a similar inner monologue. She was absolutely huge and buxom to boot,
her every curve so full and thick. Each time her booted heel slapped to the
floor he and the floorboards felt it in their joints, if Paige could manhandle
him like a child, she would be able to handle him as if he were a doll, a
goliath in her own right. He tried to peel his eyes from her behind, jampacked
into that tight black dress. Shit, he needed a clear head for the upcoming
discussion. Truth be told, he had no idea what to expect from this visit, did
witches actually exist? Did magic exist? Was that not totally and utterly
absurd? Would she be able to mutter a spell to reverse the effects or would she
brew a potion to grow him back. It seemed unfeasible, but then again, he was
currently the size of a toddler.
The cat weaved
between the witches, agile and calculated, and sprang into Paige’s arms.
“You’ll never take me alive!” it exclaimed.
Paige almost
threw the writhing cat back at Sable. “The fuck!?”
“Of course
there’s a talking cat,” Jonah said, watching the situation unfold with a
bemused look.
The black cat
turned to Paige and brought his paw to his mouth like he was trying to keep the
conversation between the two of them. “We gotta get the fuck outta here man.”
“Hush Murray,”
Sable hissed and snatched the cat from her, her bosom intruded Paige’s personal
space in a welcome surprise. “Heavens. What must a woman do to find reliable
employees these days,” she muttered to herself.
“I want
sardines.”
“We’ll both be
eating cat food for a month if you’re not careful,” Lilith said while
scratching the cat behind his ears.
Paige leant
over and whispered in Jonah’s ear. “I can’t stop looking at her tits.”
“Same thing
over here,” he whispered back.
They both
checked out her ass as Sable waltzed over to the dining table, the situation
thoroughly under control, or so she thought. The cat still tucked into her arm
and swiped at the tassels of her hair. “Please, take a seat. And Lilith
clean-up will you,” she motioned to the clatter of glass. Once Jonah and Paige
had taken a seat, ominous music suddenly began to build out of nowhere, the
piano down the hall playing a building crescendo by its lonesome. The side of
her face illuminated by the glowing purple cauldron to her right, smoke
billowing all around them. “Now.” Her face lifted from the misty shadows. “Enlighten
me.”
“Fuckin’ Christ
Sabes,” Paige swiped the smoke away, her lungs doing their best not to sputter
up a cough. “Ease up on the theatrics.“
While dealing
with a similar predicament, Jonah stepped in to save Sable the trouble of
having to decipher Paige trying to explain something. He explained everything he
had rehearsed in his head, with Paige helpfully (not really) adding in her own
parts of the story. The strange dream, the strange visions of seven and of
course, the strange shrinking (though this was the least interesting to Sable
it seemed). Jonah recalled the moments before he faded into sub-consciousness,
the zap that travelled up his arm as the hurricane of numbers consumed him.
Sable nodded along, intrigued by his story. She fiddled with the amulet,
flipping it over and running her hands along the curious inscriptions.
“Murray, go
fetch my tome dear,” Sable said, dropping her cat to the floor.
“Meow. I am
cat,” he said. “Me no understand English. Meow.”
An actual meow
shrieked from under the table as Sable guided him toward a shelf with her foot.
He groaned and begrudgingly skittered through a doorway, reappearing with a
thick book dragged by his teeth – yeah, get the guy with no hands to fetch
your shit. Sable slammed the tome on the table, a layer of dust puffed outwards
as she began flicking through the pages, whispering to herself. Finally, she
landed on a page she was content with.
The amulet was
from an ancient civilisation, one that flourished during the golden ages of the
Aztecs and Mayans. Though previously thought to be a mere talisman of the
times, there were fine prints that Sable had neglected to consider before she
decided to display the jewellery. The amulet served as a rudimentary toy, a
practical joke that played with the emotions of the wielder. If its conditions
were met, two very specific set of conditions – the amulet would activate and
gradually, over a weeklong period, shrink the thief responsible until there was
nothing left to remain.
“So Jonah’s
fucked?” Paige asked, a budding of dread built inside her.
“And what would
these conditions be?” He questioned further.
“Patience
little ones,” Sable said.
Paige rolled
her frustrated eyes as Sable continued. The amulet was used to ward of married
thieves and the conditions reflected that. There were to be two individuals
crossed by fate (a real occurrence apparently), their sharing of seven could be
attributed to that.
“So, like star
crossed lovers?” Paige asked, a glimmer of wonder in her eyes.
“Not that
contrived,” Sable replied. “But indeed, something like that I suppose,”
And the next
condition was a crime. A crime? They both thought. Paige could rattle off a
long list of things she’d done that could be considered crimes and Jonah was a
notorious small-time thief. But, what had they done recently that could be
considered a crime, did anal penetration count as a crime?
“You stole this
amulet, yes?” Sable said.
Oh.
Obviously.
The two
runaways gave each other a sheepish knowing look. “Well –”
“I knew it!”
Lilith piped up, a broom and pan in hand.
“Lilith
please.” Sable shot her a look and she quickly resumed sweeping. “I’ll be
docking this from your pay.” Lilith groaned but didn’t let up.
“Well congrats,
you got us,” Paige said. “Yeah we stole it alright, but it’s a bit fuckin’ daft
to leave something like that on the shelf.”
“I admit, it
was my negligence. The conditions were so abstract that I never thought it
would be activated.”
“Right – so we
stole it. I shrunk, how do we fix it?” Jonah asked.
Sable showed
the amulet’s face and circled around the left-most glowing emerald. “This is
you Jonah, you need six others to complete the seven.”
“This all seems
so unnecessarily complicated,” he said.
“That’s magic
baby,” Lilith chimed in.
Sable shot her
another look and motioned for her to come by her side, she had an idea, a way
of repaying the two who dealt with her own mishap, her eyes rolled back and she
mumbled an incomprehensible jumble of words. Opening her eyes, she said, “all
you must do is hold the amulet and wish for them to shrink.”
“Bullshit it’s
that easy,” Paige scoffed.
“Oh hon. You
might want to keep your eyes off me for this one,” she winked and the next
emerald began to glow. Before their eyes, Lilith dwindled down, her clothes
became loose and her face sported a surprised expression. Sable rifled around
the pile of clothing, a wry smirk creeping on to her face, she retrieved a
tiny, nude Lilith, only a few inches tall and squirming between her fingers,
her assets pliable and squishy like the rest of her. She let out an inaudible
squeak as she was dumped on the table. “Now, now Lilith, this is the least we
can do for our disservice.”
Lilith quivered
on the tabletop, her hands covering her privates underneath Sable’s husky gaze,
she knew what a look like that meant (there were some perks for working
under Sable). She glanced around the other giants at the table, Paige – a
crooked grin, Jonah – mouthing a sorrowful sorry and, oh gosh, Murray – a
hungry feline sneer. Sable and Lilith ‘argued’ back and forth. The larger witch
largely ignored whatever protest Lilith could spout and when she’d had enough, her
face, caked with makeup, rose and her heaving chest loomed large over Lilith,
the disturbingly long canyon of cleavage doing its best to break out of her
corset.
She sucked in
and let her mighty bosom do the talking as it inflated, the very size of each
enormous tit enough to strike fear in Lilith’s heart. And, oh, she loved
to tease Lilith. She was the perfect employee, competent, reliable and a
perfect smidgen of loyal obedience, it was no easy task to get someone so
willing to go along with your witch-related research. She sat further forward,
resting her elbows on either side of the tiny woman. The milky swell of her
cleavage completing blotting out her form. Good heavens, she couldn’t take it
any longer.
Her fingers
hooked beneath Lilith’s arms and Sable rose her to face her prodigious chest.
She peeled back her bra, unleashing one hefty tit that wobbled freely, bare to
the world. Lilith’s protest squeaked up to an audible level as Sable placed her
face first against her areola and let her bra snap shut over her, her tiny
employee’s head swallowed up by her chunky nipple. Sable smirked to herself,
knowing they were both going to enjoy the supposed punishment she had
inflicted.
“Shall I get
dinner started then?” Sable said, a grand smile on her face. The rest of the
table sat in awed silence. “Yes? Okay!” She grunted, trodding to the kitchen, humming
to herself.
Paige sat
frozen, her jaw brushing along the floor. “I think I’m gonna pass out,” she
finally managed, looking down at her own stiff nipples poking through her shirt.
Jonah, equally
speechless after the casual brazen display, shook his head in disbelief. “Holy fucking
shit.”
“Ahh, I remember
my first time,” sighed Murray.
***
Sable cooked
dinner for the three of them that evening, she hummed to herself as she threw
frog feet and rabbit tails into a large pot filled with broth. Appreciating the
feeling of Lilith’s dainty body flattened along the underside of her generous
breasts, occasionally she would flick the outline of Lilith’s bum just to feel
the sudden influx of squirms against her milky flesh, she was such a tease. She
couldn’t help but think about later in the night, where she’d have Lilith
licking and sucking on her teat, as best as her shrunken size would allow,
while she massaged her unoccupied hefty mountain. Shoot – she had poured too
much dragon urine into the pot, she leant backwards to see her guests in a
heated discussion with her cat, it would be fine, they won’t notice the
difference.
Jonah, Paige
and Murray sat in the dining room, playing I Spy with their surroundings. A particular
argument had arisen between Paige and Murray; the topic – at what stage does
green become blue? Is it on the cusp of a cyan or the tip of a turquoise. A
mysterious blueish animal leg of some sort was the defendant, with Murray as
his charismatic representative, and Paige as the red-faced plaintiff.
“That’s not
fuckin’ blue you dickhead.” She jabbed a finger in Murray’s face. Paige was in
an animated mood. “Right Jonah?”
“It’s like a
sort of teal I guess.”
“Do you feel
tough Paige? Insulting a poor little cat?” Murray shook his head in pitiful
sorrow, batting his wide eyes. “You know I could sue you for that right.”
“He’s right.
Animal cruelty, look it up.” Jonah nodded to Paige, it was nice to turn the
tables on her sometimes.
Their
dysfunctional game puttered on, filled with countless other arguments about the
nature of whatever strange ingredients Sable had accumulated over the years.
Dinner had been served shortly after, a swirling multi-coloured soup, and while
it had been eaten with great hesitation at first, Jonah and Paige found
themselves slamming down spoon after spoon of the explosively tasty meal, as if
their tongues required the sustenance to survive. But also when prompted, sneaking
glances at Sable’s honey glazed eyes as she lovingly rubbed the Lilith shaped
bump over her chest. Though toward the end of the meal, they noticed a weird,
acidic undertone. It was probably better to not ask what was in that, right?
Sable snapped her
fingers and the table cleaned itself in an instant, she thanked Jonah and Paige
for sharing their story and finding it within their heart to forgive her for
the mishap (and begged them to promise they’d leave a good review). “Murray, show
them to their room.” she had allowed them to sleep the night in her cottage,
which had been greatly appreciated. She said her goodnights and sauntered away,
massaging Lilith against her tit. Peeling back her bra, she saw Lilith in a
heap, covered in sweat at the bottom of her enormous cup, she gave a shaky
thumbs up. It was going to be a fun, steamy night for the two of them, it
always was.
“Man. Murray,
how do you keep it in your pants around those two?” Paige said while they
followed the cat down a deceivingly long corridor, one that twisted and turned
at every corner (that on further inspection, most certainly broke the laws of
physics). She couldn’t remove the image of Sable’s huge fucking titties
dwarfing Lilith’s nude body (also sexy), she liked to think she had a deep appreciation
for the erotic, which for some reason was a sore spot for some of her exes. But
slowly, but surely, and especially helped by having two of the most
well-endowed women she had had the fortune of seeing, there was something she
was starting to find very appealing about the size difference she had been
surrounded by as of late. Something about showing off how much bigger you are
to someone else, showing off how much your own body and all its bits could
completely outsize another person. She’d always enjoyed inflicting her will on
her partners, biting and scratching just to see them squirm beneath her while
confusion plagued their face from dealing with the pain and pleasure. Now that
Jonah had shrunk, the power dynamic had shifted far into her court. She glanced
down at Jonah, she felt like she hadn’t properly appreciated their differing
heights in their earlier forest pash. All was good, she’d have the whole night
to explore it further.
“I’m a cat
Paige. I don’t have pants,” he said.
Jonah found
Murray incredibly amusing, a sarcastic black cat that sounded like some Wall
Street wanker. Murray stopped them in front of a black apartment door and
pushed it open with a paw, the inside – a surprisingly regular cottage room,
covered with black decoration and windows that faced the sprawling hills
outside, the moon a prominent shade of blue-grey in the sky, even though Jonah
was completely disoriented by which side they were facing out of.
“Cheers
Murray,” they said and stepped into the room, closing the door behind them.
Paige strutted
toward the bed with haste, discarding her jacket to the side before spinning to
face – er, look down at Jonah. She whipped out an opened deck of cigarettes and
undid the top bottom of her jeans. “Jonah, my two greatest addictions are
battling for my attention right now. Which one will it be?”
He still had no
interest in smoking, though he was confused where she had replenished her
supply, were those Lilith’s? Instead, he pointed at her crotch, now that was
something he had a lot of interest in. “One serving of pussy please,” Jonah
said with a grin.
Paige pursed
her lips and raised an eyebrow. “I’m bone dry over here.” She sauntered toward
him, once he gave her the green light, her casual demeanour would change in a
heartbeat. “You really gotta work on the small talk little fella.” She tugged
the back of her shirt, accentuating her fit stomach and pert breasts, her
nipples piercing through the fabric. Her smug smirk disappearing behind her
round bust the closer she got, her body so close now that her thighs boxed him
in a corner, she bit her lip feeling his dainty hands run along her rough
denim, his protest completely lost against her sturdy flesh. Snatching the short
scruff of his hair, she pulled his head back to stare up and up the
claustrophobic tunnel leading between her tits. “You are so, so fucking
tiny,” she breathed.
Jonah could
hardly control himself, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, terrified and
aroused by Paige’s encompassing body. She bunched his shirt in her hand and
with an effortless yank, tore it clean off his back. Embarrassingly, he stood
there stark naked, succumbing to the heat radiating off her. The domineering demon
he knew she could be in bed now felt like an appetiser for whatever hulking
giant she had become. Before, her arousal was packed into a small frame, and
while her slaps and scratches would leave a mark, she lacked the force to make
it count and once he became acclimated to that strength, it would often leave
him wishing for more. Hell if that was the case now, he should have been more
careful what he wished for.
He watched as
her large, slender hands grazed down his body, they stretched across his torso,
caressed his biceps and triceps and finally they cupped each of his ass cheeks,
a firm squeeze to remind him who was in charge, the claw-like grip made him
yelp in her huge hands. He felt his feet lift off the ground as her mouth
connected with his own, her massive tongue aggressively attacking his. In a
position like this he felt the difference in their strength, he felt violated
by Paige as she had her way with him, and to make matters worse (better?) he
could feel her finger inching closer to his asshole, again?! “Paige.”
God, he felt pathetic muttering these next words, yet playing into it only
helped his erection. “It still hurts from before.” He didn’t meet her eye
(something about this was definitely better).
“Really?” Paige
scoffed, her mouth agape in a cocky half smirk. “I really made you feel it,
huh?” She couldn’t get enough of his flustered cheeks and his sheepishly
lowered head, and fuck, he fit in her hands so easily, she really was so much
bigger than him now – it was driving her wild. “Mm. Your little butt can wait,”
a final squeeze before she let his weight drop from her hands and spun on her
heel, presenting her round ass clad in denim. With a tantalizing peek over her
shoulder, she slowly squeezed the hem of her pants over her ass, each cheek
bigger than his head. Which speaking of, darted from her eyes to her ass with a
look that could only be described as animalistic. Jonah gripped the flesh of
her ass and buried his face in her crack, his ears covered by a heavy warm
weight, the stench moist from hours in the sun as it assaulted his nostrils.
Moaning, Paige
pushed his little head against the wall and by using her own strength this
time, drove him even deeper until she felt his dainty hands slapping against
her thighs, his pathetic muffled squeals barely able to escape the meat of her
ass. Her fingers were working their way at her clit, intense shocks of pleasure
coursed through her, she grinded her ass in a slow circle, lifting Jonah’s body
as his frantic squirms grew to a full-on assault. In almost personal best pace,
Paige reached climax, her eyes rolling back into her head, the power surging
through her veins. Finally, she came away and let Jonah drop to his knees,
gasping lungful after lungful of fresh air, untainted by the sweat accumulated
by a day of basking in a pair of denim jeans.
“Paige, that
was – ugh.” He was out of breath, his heart rate settling. Before he had a
chance to even decide how he felt about what she had just done, she lunged at
him and took his dick within her mouth. Immediately, his mind went blank again
as she sucked the life out of him. It wasn’t long until he shot his own load down
her throat. “You’re a maniac,” he said, panting against the wall, “you know
that?”
“Oh, you
fuckin’ love it,” she said.
He did.
She stretched
over him, her hands clasped toward the ceiling as her back cracked, unable to
help but push her hips out to seem just that much bigger to him. His little
puppy dog face right below her pussy was never going to get old.
He shook his
head, the post-orgasm clarity cleansing his mind and prioritising his worries. Changing
the subject’s tone, he said, “I can’t believe I’m gonna get even smaller though.”
“Nah c’mon,
we’ll make it fun.” Paige pulled her panties up and tossed her jacket over her
shoulders, from the inner pocket she grabbed her lighter and the deck of cigarettes.
“You gotta admit, it’s so stupidly hot.”
“It’s weird.
I’m scared of you but I’m also like, damn it’s a giant Paige.”
“Well, I do like
you best when you’re a little scared,” she teased, pulling a dart from the box,
she liked the sound of giant Paige.
Jonah chuckled.
“Where did you get those from anyway?”
“Why? You
finally want one?”
“Yeah, nah, I’m
good. I was just wondering.”
Paige budged
open the window, a drawling creak as she struggled with the hefty wooden frame,
it was easy to forget that she was small statured nowadays. “One day we are
gonna have a fuckin’ ciggy together Jonah,” she said between draws of her now
lit cigarette. “Mark my words.”
“I admire the
determination.”
“You’re so laaame.”
Paige puffed her cheeks as she blew a cloud of smoke out the window. “I got ‘em
from Lilith’s car.”
“Great way to
pay the favour back.”
“Hey, she’s the
one who gets to play with the greatest set of tits I’ve ever seen.”
Jonah and Paige
sat by the window, chatting back and forth as the night grew long, they relived
the sight of Sable’s glorious tits and Paige firmly pushed the conversation to
the extents of her imagination, what if they were even smaller than Lilith had
been, the size of two little beetles, but crawling between her fat ass.
“I think we’d
suffocate.”
“Trust me,
that’s a death worth dying for my friend,” she sighed, her hands behind her
head.
After a few contagious yawns they crawled into
bed. Paige pulled Jonah into a little spoon position, their chatter unable to
halt as they prepared for sleep. She wrapped her arms around his body and pulled
the cover over both of them, sealing them in a cocoon of warmth. Their babble
finally dribbling to a stop while she stroked his head, the short spiky
follicles brushing over her palm, his breathing slowed until he was asleep. While
she missed feeling his chest against her back, some maternal instinct within
her made this equally as enjoyable. Jonah was after all, a gentle soul who
deserved this kind of love and he had done nothing but indulge her in their
time together. And in these brief moments where they weren’t talking, where she
couldn’t distract herself with looping thoughts and obscene stories. she found
herself madly trying to decipher why he was the way that he was, she tended to hate
anyone who tried to figure out what made her tick, so it felt hypocritical to
be doing the same thing to Jonah.
She was at a
crossroad. Part of her had to find out, to have the satisfaction of placing the
last piece of a difficult puzzle, to step back and appreciate the gorgeous
painting of a glowing sunset over a series snow-capped mountains. That was how
she liked to imagine him, with eyes golden like the sun and his loyalty strong
and unwavering amongst the rocky peaks. But another part of her was analysing
him, selfishly figuring out how to freeze him in time so that he would always
fit into the unchanging mould that was her life. She felt it, all at once. No
one else had made her so desperately wish for time to draw to a stop like Bonnie
had, not until now. It was greedy thinking, to put her own wants above Jonah’s.
How egotistical of her to wish he wouldn’t get better so that she could
continue to live her ideal life. So, so fucking selfish. If only she
could claw that part of her brain away, the side that felt sympathy, so that
she could continue to daydream of the both of them remaining together until the
end of time, forever young and forever irresponsible. She pulled him close,
feeling their skin compress so tightly so that she may never forget the
sensation, holding him like it was the last time she’d ever have the chance and
then wishing that nothing could bother her again. She was horrible, wasn’t she?
But she couldn’t let him go. She couldn’t go through that pain again. She
wouldn’t.
Please, she
begged. Please don’t change.
End Notes:
This is the end of the first instalment, I'm currently in the process of writing the next four chapters or so and they'll come out in a couple of months I imagine (maybe earlier, we'll see how I go). I know it's a bit slow going, but I really want to take my time to make this the best it can be so bear with me.
Either way, thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed so far, it really encourages me to keep going!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.