Prelude

One hundred and eighty nine years ago the Shrinking Virus was unleashed upon the world. No one knows exactly where it came from or how it was created, but it spread fast and it spread far. Within a week of the first known case the virus had already reached the most remote corners of this Earth.

When a person caught the virus it only took a matter of hours before they shrunk, and the shrinking process took less than an hour to happen. Entire towns and cities were shrunk in one fell swoop with no time to prepare.

However, roughly one out of every two hundred people were immune to the virus. These people were left to pick up the pieces of a society that had disappeared overnight, as well as decide what to do with the vast numbers of suddenly shrunken people that included practically everyone they had ever known. Very interesting events went down in the weeks and months after what came to be called the Great Shrink.

But this is not the story of those events. (A partially written book that is probably never going to be finished IS that story). This story takes place many generations later, 189 years into what is termed the “Duality”; that is, the era in which Big and Small people have existed.

By now, society has adapted to the existence of Bigs and Smalls and new states have formed out of the chaos of the early years. There are only a few million Bigs spread out in clusters across North America, but the Smalls number in the hundreds of millions.

In the years following the Great Shrink millions of Smalls ventured away from the Bigs to live away from them in abandoned buildings and out in the woods. Over the successive generations these Smalls became illiterate, primitive, and feral, living a mean existence off the land in large burrows, fearing and hating Bigs and always setting up traps to deter them from finding their colonies. These are known as the Frees.

Meanwhile, other Smalls stayed with the Bigs. Although they were more or less treated like people who happened to be small at first, each successive generation of Bigs treated them more and more like property instead until it was eventually enshrined within law and tradition. They even began breeding Smalls for specific roles, such as athletics, modeling, or companionship. Owning Smalls with the most prized qualities became a status symbol for Bigs, especially in the larger cities. These Smalls are known as Tinies.

But the virus still lurks in the bloodstream of every human. Immunity is passed down so the child of two Bigs will remain Big. However, there are an unlucky percentage of Bigs for whom the virus will become active at some point in their life, usually between the mid teens and early twenties. One out of ten males and one out of twenty females will shrink within their lives, and when they do it is irreversible; they are just as small as the other Smalls around them for the rest of their lives.

This story is about one such Shrinker, as they are called. He is an eighteen-year-old boy from a well-regarded family. His mother is a member of Parliment in the geographically vast but sparsely populated nation of Gordana, and they live in the nation's capital of Gettysburg. Some might say they are too good of a family to produce a Shrinker—but that is not so.

Paul's mother is a champion of Tiny rights and a protector of those freedoms. But she never thought one of those Tinies would be her own son—and will those highly admirable ideals help Paul out once he shrinks? And how will the other people in his life react? Read on to see...

High up in Parliament Hall Paul sat squeezed between his two older sisters on the small bench, watching the action down below. Paul didn't really like politics but it was important for his mother's prestige for her children to be seen attending sessions from time to time. Doris Norton was well known around influential circles even before she first sat for parliament ten years previously, and reputation was taken very seriously around Gettysburg's elite circles.

  “...and this legislation would, in stages, provide these rights to Smalls in the Empire over the next ten years,” His mother—impeccably dressed and eloquently spoken—said to the other Parliament members. She indicated a whiteboard where a number of bullet points that included “Freedom of Residency” and “Freedom of Occupation.”

  “By no means do I intend to treat Smalls as if they were Big, and I do not support radical efforts to give voting rights to Smalls,” Doris said, as if heading off questions she knew were coming. “But lest we forget Smalls are humans just like us and they should be afforded basic dignities. Gordana is already known as the best country on North America to be a Small, so what way to celebrate the two-hundredth anniversary of our Dual existence in ten years than to take this progressive step forward?”

  A slight, almost imperceptible “hoff”ing noise came from Paul's right. His sister Brie was bouncing her leg impatiently; Paul knew Brie had little time for their mother's rhetoric but she would never act openly scornful in public. Paul wondered if Brie had Patrick somewhere on her; it was considered indecent to bring companions with you in public—even for children—but Brie had been caught skirting the rule a few times, and at nineteen she was no longer a child.

  “Activities such as Tiny athletics and Tiny theater are invaluable to the culture of this great nation that we all server,” Doris continued down below; “But won't these things be made even better when all the Tinies participating are there voluntarily, doing it because they love it rather than because they're coerced?”

  There was tepid applause as well as some unsettled noise. Brie shot a quick look across Paul to their older sister Sarah, who sat impassively by. At the age of twenty-one Sarah was already neck deep in tiny breeding which was turning her quite the profit, not to mention the pageants she put on. Unlike with Brie and Patrick, Paul knew Sarah was way too professional to bring Barney. Paul himself would never bring Katelyn with him; he would be too scared—and too protective as well, if he was being honest with himself.

  “The ten-year schedule will give our citizens adequate time to adjust.” Doris said. “By the estimates given to us by the Ashley Wright Institute only 10% of Smalls will object to either their owner or given profession.”

  There was an uneasy murmuring and even a little laughter at that one, but whether it was because that number seemed far to low or the notion that a Small's opinion counted at all, Paul didn't know. As Brie always told him, her soccer players were born and bred to play the sport and there's nothing else they would rather do. And she should know—at Paul's last count she owned eleven of them.

  “I implore you to seriously consider this legislation and weigh its merits,” Doris said, her time concluding. “Thank you for your time. I yield the floor.”

  Mild scattered applause followed as MP Doris Norton sat down. Paul and his sisters clapped politely, though Paul could practically feel Brie's eyes rolling next to him. The Speaker then thanked Doris and opened up the floor for other questions. Paul's attention started to fade at this point; he was never into politics and this didn't even concern him. Plus, he had other things to worry about; school, his social life, and the small fact that he was a Senior and still had no idea what he wanted to do with his life.

  Finally the session broke for recess, and since their mom's part was over all three of her children felt their duty had been fulfilled and could leave. Paul walked with his sisters as they made their way down the stairs to the lobby, the two girls chatting with each other.

  “I wonder if she knows it has no chance of passing,” Brie said.

  “I'm sure she does,” Sarah responded. “Though if she didn't I'd hate to be the one to tell her. Mom really does wear her heart on her sleeve sometimes.”

  “What do you think, Paul?” Brie asked teasingly. “Afraid tinies aren't going to want to join your all-female acting troupe?”

  “Oh come on,” Sarah laughed. “Paul's going to be a big old soldier. Patrol the border, keep the Frees at bay, you know.”

  “I told you I still haven't decided,” Paul responded in annoyance. “I need some more time.”

  “Don't take too long,” Brie said. “You don't want to do something lame and disappoint us all, right? We'd have to disown you.”

  Paul didn't say anything, and the two girls chatted away about other things as they made their way down into the lobby and outside. They filed out onto the vast and wide Capitol Boulevard which was the centerpoint of New Gettysburg, a road which some called “Route Fifteen” after an archaic pre-duality numbering system when the boulevard was merely a bypass of Old Gettysburg, which at the time was the entire town.

  Two wide lanes were separated by a tree-lined grassy meridian; in each lane walked people out and about for business and shopping. A few vehicles plodded their way along and a trolley rumbled down the track laid into the road. This was the trolley they were waiting for—the Norton family lived in a nice house in Old Gettysburg just a couple blocks from Lincoln Square. While the houses in Old Gettysburg were far older, it was an inescapable fact that pre-duality building methods had still not been matched thus the older houses were still nicer. While Sarah and Brie had moved out they both remained on the same street and were over constantly; Paul of course remained with his mother as he was still in high school.

  Right before the trolley came to a stop Paul was hailed by a familiar female voice. He found himself flush with annoyance; it was Jen.

  “Hey, Paul!” Jen beamed, making her way over to him. Paul could hear his sisters snickering over his shoulder. “See you at home,” Brie said teasingly as she and Sarah left to sit on a different part of the trolley and leave Paul with his so-called “girlfriend”.

  “Hey,” Paul said politely. Like Paul's mother, Jen's father was also a member of Parliament so their families moved in similar circles. The shorter girl smiled up at him and suggested they sit together on the trolley.

  Paul secretly hoped the trolley would be full enough that he could have an excuse not to sit with Jen, but there was a pair of seats open next to each other almost as soon as they walked in; Jen practically pulled Paul into the seat with her.

  “That was really boring, wasn't it?” Jen asked. “It really sucks how our parents make us sit through it.”

  “Yeah, it's boring.” Paul said.

  “I don't want to be rude, but your mom can't be serious about that bill,” Jen said. “She can't really want to let the tinies get up and walk away from their owners if they want, right?”

  “I guess she's pretty serious,” Paul shrugged. He never talked politics with his mom.

  “You don't agree with it, do you?” Jen asked. “I mean, we pay good money for our Tinies, right? And they're pretty helpless without us, yeah?”

  “I...well, I've never thought much about it,” Paul said truthfully.

  “I'm planning on becoming a professional breeder like your sister,” Jen said. “Your mom's bill would really mess that all up. My dad said he'd buy me a few tinies to start with as soon as I graduate. I asked him if I could have them earlier, but he wants me to finish my studies first. For now I just have to be satisfied with my companions. Though, I think at least one of them's cute enough to breed.”

  Paul noted the multiple of “companions” amidst Jen's rambling. It was uncommon for people to have more than one companion, especially teenagers. Usually if someone has more than Tiny that they call “companion” they're being used for a more, well, basic purpose, but Paul didn't want to think about that right now.

  “Have you thought about getting into it?” Jen asked, her eyes rarely leaving Paul as her leg touched his. “I can teach you all about it. We could even run a Breeding Op together!”

  “I—don't know,” Paul said uneasily. He wasn't sure about his future but he was pretty confident he didn't want to be a tiny breeder, though he was too polite to turn down Jen directly. She clearly was also trying to persuade him not to join the military by giving him alternatives, though none of the alternatives she mentioned ever appealed to him.

  “Just think about it. I think you'd be really good at it.” Jen said. Thankfully, she changed the subject and started rambling about other things, like school and problems with her girlfriends. She seemed to be very careful not to bring up any boys other than to call them annoying and not attractive. Her hand also moved to Paul's leg several times. In all, she was being about as unsubtle as she could be. It was bad enough at school, but here without classmates watching it was even worse.

  Paul was thankful when the trolley got to his stop. Jen's stop was one further along and Paul got off quickly before Jen could have the chance to ask him to walk her home. Happy to get away from his annoying classmate he stepped away from the trolley and walked the three blocks to home. He walked up the stairs of the three hundred year-old house and opened the door to his bedroom, huffily sitting down on the edge of his bed.

  There was a stirring on his bedside table as a small figure emerged from a tinyhouse. Katelyn was standing at the edge of her abode looking with concern at her giant owner, waiting for him to talk to her. His companion since he was six, Katelyn new his body language better than anyone and was dying to hear him talk about it, but she would wait until he made the move as all good companions do.

  Katelyn got her wish less than a minute later when Paul placed his hand next to the tinyhouse palm-up for Katelyn to climb into, which she did instantly, her tiny but bright eyes looking up at him with a concerned expression.

  “How is everything?” Katelyn asked. It was unusual for the companion to be the one to initiate conversation but she often did it to help Paul come out of his shell, and he never minded. Katelyn was three years older than Paul—companions bought for children usually were a tad older, as well as being of the opposite gender—and had been helping him through problems all his life.

  “I don't know. The session was an absolute bore. I was glad to get out of there.” Paul hesitated, almost not wanting to bring the next bit up: “I ran into Jen on the ride home.”

  Katelyn's body language oozed sympathy as she winced. “Sorry to hear it,” She said. “I hope she didn't bother you too much.”

  “Just the normal stuff, yapping her head off,” Paul said. “This time she said I should start a tiny breeding operation with her.”

  Katelyn laughed. “That's so silly,” She said.

  “Yeah,” Paul said. “Probably just trying to talk me out of the army.”

  “Still thinking about that?” Katelyn asked inquisitively.

  “I don't know,” Paul said almost dismissively, not wanting to talk about that right now even with Katelyn. He quickly changed the subject: “How was your day?”

  Katelyn blushed and gave him a little smile. She was always touched and flattered when Paul gave her that kind of attention, even though he was in no way obligated to do so. “It was nice,” Katelyn said. “I just relaxed in my house, I drew a little.”

  Paul smiled, feeling great affection for his companion. She had been a gift from his parents on his sixth birthday, just months before he was killed in action serving as an officer in the border regions. Though only nine at the time Katelyn had listened to him and helped him heal; and ever since he couldn't imagine having any companion but her.

  “It'll probably be a couple hours before mom comes back with dinner.” Paul said. The tiniest hint of a smile came to his face, so small that no one but Katelyn would have been able to pick up on it.

  “Do you want to...relax?” Katelyn said tentatively, looking up at Paul with much less subtle girlish excitement. Paul gave the smallest nod of the head. Calmly but still smiling excitedly Katelyn reached down and started to undress herself.

  “Relax” was a longstanding euphimism between the two of them; either of them would be hard-pressed to known when they started using it or even who said it first. But this “relaxing” started years ago, at the dawn of Paul's puberty when he nervously and clumsily explored Katelyn's body. She had laid there stiffly while he did it, scared but willing—she had been told this would probably happen by the instructor of her caretaker class, which she still took on a weekly basis at the time. After all, her body was there for him to use, a safe way to explore his curiosities before he would start to seek relationships with real, Big girls.

  Over time their play had become a lot less clumsy and had eventually become smooth and effortless. Katelyn knew what Paul liked, and Paul knew how to get certain reactions out of Katelyn. Her young body was only naked in his hand for a moment before he pushed her down into his palm gently, his fingers sliding up to press against her warm little boobs. Katelyn moaned softly, placing her hands on top of Paul's finger and closing her eyes. Paul always loved the feeling of Katelyn's body under his hands. Playing with her was always very comforting, and the way she reacted so positively made him feel better about himself.

  Paul continued tracing her body with his fingers; she flowed around them like water, enjoying the sensations around her body. Paul wanted to make her cum—he always did. Even if nothing else was going right in his life, the fact he could play Katelyn like a fiddle and make her shriek with ecstasy always made him feel good, not to mention turned him on greatly. Katelyn rode his fingers as he rubbed her. He could feel her tiny wetness on his finger and a few minutes later he heard and felt the telltale signs of Katelyn's climax as she clutched his fingers and let out a little yelp.

  Katelyn cooed and hugged his fingers while Paul's other hand went to the zipper of his pants. He was rock hard and ready for the next step. Katelyn knew exactly what he wanted and what to do. She hopped down onto his pants and ran forward as he freed his dick, almost jumping at it as she wrapped herself around it like a tree trunk. This worship made him even harder, and he cupped his hand around his companion and jerked himself off with her, Katelyn doing everything she could with her little body to enhance the experience.

  In a wonderful climax that seemed to push the entire world away Paul came into his hand, his cum running down his fingers. He sighed as his body relaxed. He slowly released his grip on Katelyn and she came off his dick. He had tried to prevent her from getting cum on her but a small glob had inevitably run down onto her hair. She acted as if it wasn't there, and it was cute in its own way. Paul knew that he could make Katelyn take the full blast and she'd just sit there covered in jizz like it was nothing at all. However, Paul always let Katelyn clean off, and he did so this time.

  The two of them lay there on Paul's bed for some time after not talking. Katelyn was on his chest, still naked, his fingers gently tracing his body idly. Paul knew Katelyn would love nothing more than to give him a massage right now—usually that involved her running on his back or sometimes sensually rubbing sensitive parts of his body like his lips—but right now he'd rather stay just like this.

After some time had passed he got up, understanding his mother was coming home soon. Paul returned Katelyn to her smallhouse; he knew she would get cleaned up and dressed, and then eat her own dinner while he ate his. He cleaned himself up and changed his clothes to more comfortable attire before heading downstairs and waiting for his mom.

  Before his mother came home his sisters showed up. Annoyingly, both were carrying their companions; Sarah with Barney and Brie with Patrick. There was nothing indecent about holding your companion in private company—usually it was considered bad manners to have them at the dinner table, though—but Paul always felt uneasy watching them react. He didn't like to bring out Katelyn in front of the girls; they used to tease her when they were younger and that had greatly upset Paul, so he stopped.

  “How did it go with your girlfriend?” Brie teased.

  “We're just friends,” Paul said, embarrassed.

  “Sure you are,” Brie said.

  “You should bring her over for family dinner sometime.” Sarah suggested. “Mom knows about Jen through her dad, I'm sure she'd love to meet her.”

  “I don't know...” Paul said, his embarrassment deepening.

  “Then we can start planning the wedding,” Brie oozed sarcastically.

  “Stop pretending Jen and I are together just because you're jealous no one's interested in you!” Paul snapped. He could see in the shocked and hurt reaction from Brie that he'd crossed a line.

  “Really, Paul?” Sarah asked angrilly as Brie composed herself, and started to shout at Paul.

  “You know how fucking hard it is for a girl to find a man right now?” She yelled. “You wouldn't know, because even a dork like you has girls throwing themselves at him. And I don't even need a man. I have my soccer team, I can almost support myself, and I have everything I need.”

  “I'm sorry...” Paul said, but Brie smacked him angrily on the arm.

  “Don't 'sorry' me.” Brie said, storming off. He was left with Sarah, who glared at him.

  “You know that's a sensitive issue with Brie, bringing that up?” Sarah asked.

  “I know, I just--” Paul sighed. “Things have just been getting to me lately.”

  Sarah looked like she wanted to tell Paul off some more, but she sighed and calmed down. “Look, I'll try to smooth things over with Brie before mom gets back. But I won't lie to mom if Brie's still upset and she asks what happened. And by the way, before you start, Charlie and I have been dating almost six months now.”

  “I didn't ask.” Paul said bitterly under his breath as Sarah walked away to talk to Brie. He slunk slowly into the kitchen. He felt bad about hitting Brie in such a sore spot like that, but at the same time he was still angry about her teasing. He just really hated the idea anyone thought of him and Jen dating. Jen wasn't terrible, and she certainly wasn't bad looking, she was just...well...

  “She's a ditz” Would be Hannah's way of putting it. A smile came to Paul's face as he thought about his best friend. Hannah loved taking the piss out of Jen; she couldn't stand the girl, and was the only one who didn't think her advances on Paul were very funny. Paul had known Hannah as long as he could remember; though neither of her parents were in Parliment like Paul's mom or Jen's dad, they were fairly well-placed and ran in the same circles.

  The question had come through Paul's mind as to whether he felt he wanted to be more than friends with Hannah. She was kind, pretty, and the two of them always had great chemistry. But it was always hard to think of her that way just because they had been close for so long. Paul had long suspected Hannah may feel a certain way about him but she was not the type who would make the first move. And at any rate openly dating while still in high school was frowned upon in this day in age.

  Paul thought he might set the table before his mother came home. That would at least make up for some of the drama he had caused. Paul's mom sometimes cooked but she was usually too busy and picked up something from the cafe on the way home. The girls were always around for dinner; even though they each had their own place they still practically lived here. Hannah had recently made a comment that cut like a knife: She said that the only reason Doris paid for her two daughters to live on their own—neither made enough money to support themselves, especially Brie—was so that their Tiny-owning operations were out-of-sight, out-of-mind, therefore distancing herself from her daughter's activities because it would be politically inconvenient for her. It was cynical, but Paul had a sneaking suspicion it could be true.

  Doris arrived home a few minutes later with two bags filled with delicious-smelling food. Brie and Sarah emerged; Brie acting completely normally and even offering to help her mom take the food out of the bags. Sarah shot a quick look at Paul as if to tell him you owe me before making her way to the table herself.

  As they ate the three females talked quite a bit, Doris mainly informing her daughters about the gossip going around at the Capitol. It was quite inane and Paul didn't have much to say about it. But when Doris mentioned the name of Jen's father in passing Brie took the opportunity and pounced on it.

  “Oh, Paul's been seeing his daughter a lot lately.” Brie said, her smug eyes flashing to Paul.

  “Is that so, Paul?” Doris asked with a little inquisitive smile.

  “We just go to class together, that's all.” Paul said, feeling uncomfortable. “We're just classmates, it's not like we're dating or anything.”

  “That's good,” Doris said, her tone of voice clearly betraying that she didn't really believe him, “You should just be focusing on your studies right now. There will be plenty of time for dating later.” Doris looked back towards Brie as she spoke the last sentence, implying this message applied to her as well. Brie looked slightly embarrassed, and it was Paul's turn to feel smug.

  The conversation turned back to more inane matters and soon supper ended. Brie offered to help clean up as well, which struck Paul as being overly nice. Brie was never this helpful, and Paul knew there had to be an angle, and while they were washing dishes together it came out. Brie had steered the conversation towards her soccer team, and as subtly as she could, she dropped the bomb.

  “...and I really think it's the lack of good center is what's keeping the team from reaching their full potential.” Brie wormed. “I want to trade mine in for a better one but Centers are really expensive now; mine's not worth much and there's no way I could afford a top Center.”

  “You have many players, why not just sell off the ones you're not using?” Doris said.

  “Eleven makes a full team! I can't sell any!” Brie whined. “And even if I could, they wouldn't cover the cost. Can you loan me the money to get one? I'll make the money back with victory payouts in a matter of weeks.”

  “No, I won't do it.” Doris said adamantly.

  “Why not?” Brie whined, her voice raising. “It's not that much money to you, and it's my dream to win the Gettysburg Men's Cup!”

  “Do you know how problematic is would be for me to buy any tiny right now, let alone a top tier soccer player?” Doris snapped. “You're just going to have to make do with the team you have, or maybe you can actually put in decent hours at your real job and buy him yourself!”

  “But I need to be there to oversee the team!” Brie whined, getting more and more heated. She and her mom continued going back and forth, Brie getting more whiny while Doris became more and more stern. Sarah took Barney out of her pocket and started to fiddle with him idly while waiting for the storm to pass. Paul used the excuse of needing to work on homework to get out of there and head back to his bedroom.

  Paul flopped on his bed and closed his eyes, exhaling deep and long. The sun was going down outside so the room was nice and dim. Paul laid there for a few minutes before opening his eyes again. He looked up and to the left—just as he expected, Katelyn was there, peering over the edge of her smallhouse with concern.

  “Brie wants mom to buy her a soccer player, mom won't do it.” Paul said in one long disinterested breath.

  “Oh dear.” Katelyn said. Paul just sighed.

  “It doesn't matter.” Paul said. “It's just stupid drama, it doesn't affect me.” For another several minutes Paul just lay there, watching Katelyn's tiny legs dangle over the edge of her house. Finally, he sighed and sat up. “I guess I really ought to get started on homework.”

  Paul opened up his bag and sat down at his desk going over the trigonometry homework his teacher gave him. It was really annoying and he had the distinct impression that he would never use this in his life. Still, he had to do it. As he worked Katelyn sat cross-legged on the other side of his papers, not interacting with him but merely being a calming presence. Doris had long-ago forbid Katelyn from helping Paul with his homework. While many tinies were either illiterate or barely literate Katelyn was actually very smart and could read better than many Bigs Paul knew.

  One day when Paul was a kid his mom accused Katelyn of doing Paul's homework for him and actually confiscated the companion until the work was done. Paul had cried and cried but eventually forced himself to do the work. For months Doris would take Katelyn until he could prove he had done his work until eventually she would let the companion stay as long as she didn't say a word while he was working. They kept up that pattern until today; even though Paul was sure he could get away with letting Katelyn help, most of his homework was now beyond her grasp, especially anything to do with numbers.

  Finally done, Paul sighed as he lay his pencil down. Katelyn looked up at him. “Doing all right?” She asked.

  “Yeah,” Paul said. “Just tired, that's all. Got to get up for school tomorrow.”

  “Yeah,” Katelyn nodded sympathetically. Tentatively, she suggested: “Need anything, like maybe a massage?”

  “I think I just want to go to bed.” Paul said. “I might take that massage tomorrow, though.”

  Paul got up and got changed for bed. He lifted Katelyn into her house and up to her bed, pulling her little sheets over her and tucking her in. Tucking in your companion was considered something little girls do and no doubt Paul would be ridiculed no end if he was ever caught doing it, but he had tucked in Katelyn since he was a little boy and never saw the need to stop.

  Paul got under his covers and turned out the light. He lay in bed for a short while thinking about school, his future, Jen, Hannah, and Katelyn, before he started to fade and soon was fast asleep.

Paul woke with the sniffles. That wasn't an uncommon thing; it was allergy season after all. Paul wasn't a usual sufferer, but he guessed it was just worse this year than usual. Maybe he was coming down with something; possibly a cold. He was slightly jealous of Katelyn in this regard; because of the smaller size of their cells Smalls didn't get viruses, though they could still be afflicted with other maladies.

  It was a school day so it was the customary pattern of shower, breakfast, and walk to school. Gettysburg Academy was the most elite school in all of Gordana and was housed in several buildings of what used to be a college pre-Duality. Most of the students were the children of prominent people in Gettysburg life, although there were a number of boarding students from other cities across Gordana—even as far away as Dakota Territory—as well as some less-privileged students admitted as charity cases. The school was fancy but the teachers were strict and the work was hard.

  Paul's first class was math. Jen was in this particular class; he sat by the front while she sat by the back, and he could swear he felt her eyes on him throughout the class. His sniffles didn't go away, and in fact he was starting to feel a bit light-headed. It wasn't anything worth worrying about, he figured, and he'd probably just take a nap when he got home, maybe after a nice massage from Katelyn.

  The rest of the morning dragged on; it was lunch Paul was looking forward to. Paul shared the same lunch period with Hannah and this was his chance to talk with her. They only shared one class together and their teacher had assigned them seats fairly far apart, so talking then was impractical, and the two of them hadn't been able to see each other outside of school very much recently.

  Paul had great memories of their younger years; two preteens wandering the streets of Gettysburg looking for secrets, and the old town had many. One day they had found a bit of foundation left over from a long-demolished building, and it was degrading in such a way that there was a little alcove just big enough for the two of them to sit. Hannah had taken a book from her bag and they took turns reading with each other while a light rain fell around them. Hannah had rested her head on his shoulder and while he was reading she fell asleep, only waking again when he stopped. It was one of Paul's favorite memories; they had to have been no older than 12 or 13 at the time.

  Another time they had been walking when Hannah had discovered a tiny wandering down a side street. It was unusual to see tinies outdoors unaccompanied by a Big so she raced over and scooped him up. They huddled in an ally to gawk at him curiously; the only Tiny either of them had had experience with up until that point was their respective companions. The tiny refused to tell them who he was or who he belonged to. They didn't know what to do so Hannah decided to turn him over to the authorities. It turned out he was a runaway and his owner had been looking for him. When she showed up at the police station to collect her tiny she bought both of them candy as a reward. Paul ate his candy but Hannah couldn't eat hers, she was upset about the whole situation and felt she had done the wrong thing. They couldn't have been older than 11 at the time.

  It was finally lunchtime. Paul bought his lunch and sat down at the usual table, feeling oddly lacking in appetite, probably because of his cold. Hannah came in a couple minutes later. She was as tall as Paul with long reddish blonde hair and a slim build. “Hey,” She said as she sat down. “Feeling all right? You look a little flush.”

  “I think I'm coming down with a cold,” Paul said, shrugging. “Did I miss anything while I was at Parliament yesterday?”

  “Not really.” Hannah said. “I can give you a copy of my biology notes later if you want.”

  “Sure.” Paul said.

  “So how did Parliament go?” Hannah asked.

  “It was really boring,” Paul said. “I only had to go because my mom was proposing major legislation and she wanted all of us to be there for it.”

  “Oh, is that the Small Rights thing I've heard about?” Hannah asked with interest.

  “Yeah,” Paul said.

  “Think anything is going to come of it?” Hannah asked. She seemed to be genuinely interested, far more than Paul was.

  “I don't think so,” Paul said.

  “It's still a noble effort.” Hannah said. “I've always thought it's a shame the way Smalls are treated, even here in Gordana.

  Paul shrugged noncommittally. “I don't really have a strong opinion one way or the other.” He said. “The only tiny I have is Katelyn and I know she wouldn't leave if she had the choice.”

  “Same thing with Darren.” Hannah said, mentioning her own companion. “So how is Katelyn?”

  “She's...doing well.” Paul said. A person's companion was a very intimate thing and asking about one was always awkward, though Hannah and Paul were close enough that he didn't feel too weird about it.

  “That's good.” Hannah said. “I really liked her when I met her. She seems like she's really good to you. She even hit it off well with Darren when I brought him over, even though she was shy at first.”

  Paul nodded. “Yeah, she is really good.” He said. Hannah took a deep breath; she was getting ready to let something major out.

  “You know, I was thinking...” Hannah said. “I know they don't let you take companions into the army. So I was thinking—if that's what you decided to do—I could take care of Katelyn until you got back. If you let me.” She added hurriedly.

  Paul was stunned. A companion was such an intimate thing; she knew all your secrets and all your habbits, and letting someone else borrow one was like lending them a journal where you wrote down all your deepest fears. It was just never done—usually when companions were no longer needed or wanted they were sent to live among the Pixies way out in the country, or at the very least sold to a breeder. Though companions were told never to divulge anything their owners said slip ups and deliberate betrayals were known to happen, and the result was very often euthanization. Normal tours of duty were four years, and Paul would never want to subject Katelyn to four years of silence about the one thing—him—that occupied 90% of her existence. But with Hannah...

  “Yes, I would trust Katelyn to you.” Paul said at last. There was so much unsaid in that sentence; by saying that to Hannah he was basically saying he trusted her with his book of secrets, with his most prized possession, and in addition to that the promise he would return to Hannah for Katelyn; and he would owe her big for those four years.

  In saying that she would take Katelyn for four years, Hannah was saying she'd wait for him. And in agreeing, Paul promised to come back for her. Even with the gender balance as uneven as it was a girl like Hannah didn't usually stay single for four years. She was giving up a lot for him...and there was every chance he wouldn't come back. The border with Virginia was calm now but flair-ups have happened before and would happen again, plus the Free's traps were getting better each year...

  “If I decided to go.” Paul said at last. Hannah looked at him.

  “If you decided to go.” Hannah said. They looked each other in the eye. It was a long moment full of meaning, as if they were staring into one-anothers' souls. Then the moment was broken when Paul let out a hacking cough.

  “That really doesn't sound good.” Hannah said. “Maybe you should see the nurse.”

  “I'll be fine,” Paul said, putting on a tough face. “I just need a rest and some fluids, that's all.”

  “Are you sure?” Hannah asked, a sly grin forming on her face. “I bet Jen would be really upset if you had to miss a week of school.”

  Paul rolled his eyes. “Don't remind me about her.” Paul said. “I had to endure an entire tram ride with her yesterday.”

  “Ouch,” Hannah said. “Let me guess. She kept trying to put her hands on you and get you ask her out.”

  “Even worse, she told me she wanted to start a Breeding Op with me.” Paul said. Hannah was hit with a fit of giggles so hard that it took her a minute to compose herself.

  “She's a ditz.” Hannah said finally. Now it was Paul's turn to break into laughter.

  “I knew you were going to say that!” Paul retorted, and they had a good laugh for a few more moments.

  Finally calming down, Hannah said: “So: Joining the military or a Breeding Op with Jen, what's it going to be?”

  Paul took a deep breath, his anxiety over his future returning. “To be honest, I don't really know.” Paul said. “I don't know what I want to do.”

  Hannah sighed, nodding empathetically. “It's hard, I know.” Hannah said. “But we'll figure it out together.”

  Paul looked Hannah in the eyes. “Thank you.” He said.

  “And hey,” Hannah cracked a smile. “If nothing else works out maybe we can steal Jen's idea and start a Breeding Op.” Paul started to laugh but it turned into a wheezing cough. Hannah's look turned from amusement to concern quickly.

  “You really ought to get that looked at.” Hannah said. “That doesn't sound good.”

  “It's just a cold, it'll be gone in a couple days at most.” Paul said.

  “There's other things it could be.” Hannah said, her voice now deadly serious. The color drained out of Paul's face as a horrible thought occurred to him.

  “You mean—” Paul started hoarsely.

  “I don't mean that....” Hannah said quickly, though Paul had the distinct impression that is exactly what Hannah meant.

  “Look, if I'm still feeling sick tomorrow I'll go to a doctor, I promise.” Paul said.

  Hannah seemed to accept that, though she still looked worried. Lunch period was ending; they made vague plans to meet later in the week to get some ice cream and work on biology homework before going their separate ways. Paul went on to his next class feeling a bit dizzy and more full of thoughts than before.

  First of all, Hannah had just pretty much flat out said that she wanted to be with him. Whether it was right after graduation or in four years she was willing to do it, she was just waiting for him to ask. He didn't know what to think; he cared for Hannah very much but didn't know if being a couple would destroy their beautiful friendship, especially if it didn't work out.

  And then there was that other thing. The thing that was too horrifying for him to even think about. The one illness that had once ravaged the globe, taking almost everyone with it and sparing a thin few; his ancestors being among those spared. But this couldn't be happening to him, could it? Surely there was no way...

  Paul tried to keep his mind off of it but his dizziness kept increasing throughout the day. He started sweating and by his last class he felt as though he had a fever. After dismissal he went home as quickly as he could. As Parliament was not in session his mother was home, and her expression turned to one of concern the moment he walked in the door.

  “Oh dear!” Doris exclaimed, running over to her son. “Look at you? You're burning up!” She put her hand to his head.

  “I thought it was just a cold...” Paul began.

  “Oh no, oh no...” His mother said, a cold fear seeming to seep into her, a fear that drove icicles straight into Paul's heart.

  “I think it's the flu...” Paul said uneasily.

  “When did this start?” Doris asked.

  “I felt a little off this morning and it just kept getting worse throughout the day.” Paul said.

  “Paul, I think you might be...” Doris began, but Paul cut her off.

  “It's the flu!” Paul exclaimed. “I...I just need to sleep it off...”

  “Paul, listen to me,” Doris said. “You're showing every sign of...”

  “The flu! I have the flu!” Paul exclaimed desperately. His mother looked nervous, angry, and sad all a the same time. She looked like she wanted to yell at Paul or even slap him, but she took a deep breath and composed herself.

  “Fine, you have the flu,” Doris said in a forcefully calm tone. “What you need to do is drink a cup of water and go lay down. I'll come and check on you in a couple hours around dinnertime.”

  Doris got Paul his drink of water which he gulped down shakily. Paul then walked up the stairs to his bedroom, his hand on the rail to steady himself as his dizziness made it hard for him to stand. His vision was starting to get swimmy; he couldn't see let alone acknowledge Katelyn. He dropped down onto his bed; he was hot so he took off all his clothes. Then he was cold so he dove under his covers. Then he was hot again so he pushed them off.

  Laying down was uncomfortable somehow so he sat up, head tucked against his knees as he felt his consciousness start to wane. He tried to stay awake—whatever was happening to him he was going to fight it, he had to—but reality was slipping away from him, and he soon found himself drifting into unconsciousness...

Paul gradually started to regain consciousness. He felt a little hazy but he no longer felt ill—a little dizzy still, but even that was fading. He actually felt almost completely normal, as if he was slowly waking out of a deep sleep.

  Paul's memory was muddled and it took him a while to start to put the pieces together as to where he was and what had happened to bring him here. A small pang of dread like a seed planted itself in the pit of his stomach, and that seed grew quickly into an entire forest of fear that filled his entire body. There is no way it could have happened; there was just no way—because if it did happen that would mean that everything was over, and nothing would be the same again.

  Paul slowly realized that there was an arm around his shoulder. It was a warm, comforting presence but something felt off about it. It was obviously not his mom come upstairs to comfort him, and he couldn't imagine it belonging to his sister or any of his friends. The presence on his left side felt new and strange, but there was something familiar about it.

  Paul didn't dare open his eyes, but he knew he would have to do it sooner or later. He wished that he could keep his eyes closed forever and this would all go away, and that he would wake up and everything would be just as it should be. But he would have to open his eyes even if that meant confirming his worst fears were true. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

  A gigantic, cavernous room larger than anything that ever existed in Gettysburg or anywhere else Paul had been surrounded him, yet it was his own bedroom. His bed stretched before him like a large field of grass. There was no ambiguity and no room for question here; he had shrunk. He was a Shrinker. He was a Small now.

  The revelation was almost enough to make Paul lose it but he was so overwhelmed that he just sat there in shell shock, trying to understand it. It was too much to comprehend. It didn't seem real. When he was young, he once got as close to the floor as he could and looked up to see what the world looked like to a Small, but he couldn't comprehend it. Even now he couldn't comprehend it, and it didn't feel real. That is, except for one thing.

  The arm around his shoulder belonged to Katelyn. This was the one thing that drove home the fact that this was real. His sweet little companion Katelyn—who he had held in the palm of his hand for the last eleven years—was now sitting beside him, arm around him, every bit the size Hannah had been to him mere hours before.

  Slowly he turned his head to look at Katelyn. Her eyes were swollen and her face was red and tear-stained—she had obviously been crying for a long time—but that was not what hit Paul. What hit him was seeing Katelyn like this, up close and in full detail. This was a girl who had been inside his mouth, on his dick, between his fingers and toes, and even right up against his eye; but even that view was not as detailed as this one.

  He could make out all kind of tiny details about Katelyn that would have been impossible to see before. He could see almost imperceptible blemishes on her skin that were invisible to him at his old size. He could make out her individual eyelashes, the individual folds of her lip, the little hairs on her arm—all things that made her a real person, just like his sisters or Hannah, and all things he could have only imagined on Katelyn because they were always too small to see.

  Their eyes met for the first time. Despite their swollen state Paul still got lost in her brilliant, gentle blue eyes. He had always known her eyes were blue but they had always appeared as a small dot of blue against the white of her eyes; now they were an absolute flower of color that conveyed depth and emotion that Katelyn was only ever able to portray through body language before. The full display of Katelyn's expression hit him for the first time.

  That expression was one of bottomless pain and sadness. Katelyn had watched as Paul had dwindled away in size to the point where he was no larger than her. She now clung to his side; where as before she was only able to squeeze one finger she now hugged his entire body, clutching herself to him as if one or both would perish if she let go for even a second.

  Fresh tears came forth from Katelyn's face. “Oh, Paul,” She quietly wailed. “Oh poor, sweet Paul...” Her voice hit Paul hard; he had known Katelyn's voice for years, or at least thought he did. Katelyn always had to project herself to be heard by her owner, or if she talked normally into his ear it sounded as though she were far off. But now the depth and subtlety of her tones were easy to hear, and the notes of pain coming from her heart-wrenching.

  “Did you know this was happening?” Katelyn asked, her deep blue eyes burning a hole through Paul.

  “N...no,” Paul said. “I had no idea.” His head was clearing up, and he was feeling as healthy as he had ever done. Not that it did anything for how he was feeling otherwise.

  “Oh, Paul,” Katelyn said, running his hand through his hair and stroking his head. With every movement of Katelyn's hand he was astounded how it was a real touch, a gentle move that had more power than anything she would have been able to do before. When Katelyn would squeeze his finger before it would be the smallest, cutest touch, but now she could squeeze him like a real person.

  “What are we going to do, what are we going to do?” Katelyn said in a low wail. Paul had no idea how to answer. His future, his present, his whole world had been ripped away from him. Everything that had been on his mind before: school, the military, Hannah, Jen... all that was gone now.

  “You always hear about this happening to other people,” Paul said, feeling as though it was someone else speaking through his voice. “But you never think it will happen to you. Other families have plans. Mine never talked about it. It was never discussed, it....”

  But Paul fell silent as Katelyn nuzzled her head between his head and shoulder and gripped his body tight. She squeezed him harder than he remembered any Big ever having done, sniffing as tears continued to roll down her face.

  “You know we may never see each other again after today.” Katelyn said. Paul felt a stab right through his heart, a stab every bit as large as the first moment he realized he might be shrinking.

  “That's impossible!” Paul protested. “You're my companion! They can't just take another person's companion away like that, it's impossible!”

  “You're a small now, you don't have a companion, you don't have anything!” Katelyn wailed.

  “But I was a Big just hours ago!” Paul said. “You're on the books as being mine! They can't take you away, they just can't...” But Paul knew they could and in all likeliness they would.

  “You're a Tiny now.” Katelyn said. “All Tinies are owned by somebody! You're owned by somebody now, and you don't have any say over what happens to you next!”

  Paul felt both scared and indignant at the idea of being owned. Just today he was stressing over his choice of career, and now his autonomy was completely gone? His decisions would be made my somebody else?

  “I'm so sorry this is happening to you.” Katelyn said. “So sorry...”

  “W-what's going to happen to you?” Paul finally brought himself to ask. Katelyn looked up at him with a shadow of the familiar flattered expression Katelyn always wore when Paul asked about her, but it was immediately tinged with pain.

  “When companions lose their masters they're usually sold to breeders,” Katelyn said, her voice breaking. “I'll probably be bred with other former or current companions. I'll have a few children, stay with them a few years...then I don't know, it depends on the breeder.”

  “That can't happen!” Paul said indignantly. He couldn't imagine this beautiful girl—sat next to him right now large as life—put in a room with a man she didn't know, forced to have sex with him as many times as it took to impregnate her, and then being forced to give up the children when they reached a certain age. It was so cruel, so wrong.

  “There's only one thing we can do,” Katelyn said, sitting up; her tear-stained eyes suddenly full of fire. “You need to breed me right now.”

  “W-what?” Paul said, his thoughts abruptly stopping in their tracks as a result of her sudden proposal.

  “You need to breed me! Right now! It's the only chance we've got!” Katelyn said. Full of new life she moved to straddle him; she was wearing nothing but underwear, Paul noticed, and he was struck by the sheer power of her feminine body at its full size. She had long, smooth feminine legs, a small but healthy set of breasts, and powerful looking thighs. It also occurred to Paul that Katelyn was a lot taller than he had realized, possibly even taller than him now.

  “Katelyn, I—” Paul began, realizing that he was starting to get hard in the light of Katelyn's sudden sexual display. “I couldn't do that to you, Katelyn...”

  “Couldn't do what?” Katelyn asked. “I want this! I've been your little Katelyn for all these years, you've treated me so well, you've been so wonderful; and now I want to do something for you. I want to give you something I could have never given you before, and something no woman will ever be able to do the same way again...”

  “Katelyn, I....I don't know,” Paul said, his mind scrambled. “What—what about your value going forward?”

  “Fuck my value!” Katelyn exclaimed, shocking Paul with profanity that Katelyn had never used. “I couldn't care less how much the breeders value me! I won't have to sleep with anyone if I'm already pregnant, and even if I can never see you again I'll still have a piece of you to hold onto and love for years.”

  Paul gasped as he felt Kathlyn's hand slid forward and closed around his erect cock; the same cock that she used to wrap her body willingly around. The power in her fingers compared to the power of her entire body before was unbelievable.

  “Katelyn, I don't know...” Paul said. “This is really so much right now. I love you dearly, but I have to think about this for a while...”

  “There's no time to think!” Katelyn exclaimed. “This is our last day together. I...I...Paul, you've done so much for me, made me feel so good. I've always been too small to properly repay you, but now I can. I want you inside of me, Paul. I want to give you the pleasure that only a woman could give you. I want to be your first, Paul, and the only time with somebody who loves you, and the only one you get to choose, because they'll never let you pick who you get to sleep with after this!”

  As she talked, Katelyn lowered her other hand to her panties and started to pull them aside to reveal her pussy. It was a pussy Paul had stroked, prodded, and rubbed with a huge clumsy finger before. Now it was a pussy he could enter, one that could envelop his cock, and out of which may come his child in months time.

  But even though Katelyn desperate wanted it, and on a physical level he definitely wanted it too, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bring himself to have sex with the girl who had been his companion and closest confidant for most of his life. He just couldn't bring himself to do it on a psychological level. Somehow, it just didn't feel right.

  Katelyn looked at Paul with a pained expression as he slowly removed her hand from his penis. He looked up into her face, which was welling with tears. He started to realize that he was tearing up too. “Paul...” Katelyn said softly, heartbroken but possibly understanding. They held each others' hand for a moment, then Katelyn flung herself forward to hug Paul, his head pressed firmly into her warm, soft chest where he could feel her heart hammering through her skin.

  “I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry...” Katelyn wailed, holding Paul so tight he felt as though he might burst. He held Katelyn in his arms, running his hands along her back. “I didn't mean to bother you...”

  That phrase hit him hard; it was a well-known stock phrase that companions were taught to say to their masters if they think they did something that offended them. Paul couldn't remember Katelyn saying that to him since he was 8 or 9 years old, and the earnest emission of that statement cut his heart like a knife.

  “No,” Paul said, firmly. “You didn't offend me. Don't ever think that. You're not my companion anymore, you don't have to...” But that unleashed a fresh wave of sobs from Katelyn.

  “Don't say that!” She wailed between tears. “I know I just said that myself, but it just hurts so much more when you say it...”

  As Katelyn cried, he tried to put herself in her shoes. He knew the basics of how lives like hers went; she had been born at a breeder and was cared for by her mother until she was five. Then she went to companionship class for the next few years. Did she stay with her mother during that time or was she taken away? Paul didn't know; he had never asked. Presumably she had been looked at by potential buyers many times before Paul's mom and dad walked in and decided to buy her. She had been placed in a small decorated box which Paul had then opened at his birthday dinner, thrilled to have a little playmate.

  Paul's parents had been very proper in introducing Katelyn to him. They read the owner's manual together with him and did the exercises, and Katelyn still returned to companionship class on a weekly basis for the next two years, and then monthly for a year or two after that. Many parents neglected to do that, and both the child and companion would often suffer for it.

  Paul had also named Katelyn; she had arrived nameless. Children always got to name their companions and Katelyn was the name of a character in a book his mother read to him as a child. He never knew what she was called before; it was never considered relevant. But now that she was here, a woman his own size sitting on him with his head buried in her chest.

  “What was your name?” Paul asked. “Before you were my companion.”

  “What?” Katelyn asked, looking legitimately confused as she pulled away looking down on Paul from her position on his lap.

  “Before I named you.” Paul said. “What was your name?”

  “What do you mean?” Katelyn asked. “I'm your Katelyn! That's my name. That's who I am and that's who I'll always be.”

  “But you had a name before that, right?” Paul asked. “I mean you weren't nameless for the first nine years of your life, were you?”

  “No...” Katelyn said, tentatively.

  “Then tell me, what was it?” Paul asked.

  “I won't tell you.” Katelyn said. Paul was stunned; Katelyn had never said no to him in his enitre life.

  “What?” Paul exclaimed. “Please, I want to know!”

  “My name's Katelyn and that's all that matters!” She insisted. “I never want to be known by anything other than the name you gave me.”

  “Just tell me what it is!” Paul pressed. Katelyn gripped his shoulders and sat upright.

  “If you breed with me I'll tell you!” Katelyn exclaimed, the wild look back in her eyes. “I swear I will!”

  They both stared at each other intensely for a full minute, Katelyn's hot breath washing over Paul's face. Finally Paul averted his eyes. Katelyn knew without asking what his answer was.

  “I'm sorry.” Katelyn said, sliding off of his lap and back to his side.

  “No, I'm sorry.” Paul said, putting his arm around her. “Don't ever think you have to say sorry to me anymore. I don't own you.”

  “I'm not apologizing because I'm your companion...I-I mean was your companion,” Katelyn said. “I'm apologizing because of the beautiful man you are, and how you should be treated by anyone.”

  That was the kindest thing Paul had ever heard, and he squeezed Katelyn's body. In a sense it was so cruel that just because of her size Paul never thought of Katelyn as a “girl”; not in the full sense of the word at least. When he thought about Hannah or any of the other girls in his life he never included Katelyn in that category. But it was only now sitting here with her that he fully understood that she was fully the woman he thought of their others as being. In a different life—one where Katelyn had been born Big—things would have been very different.

  Paul turned to her. “I'm not able to have sex with you,” He said. “But maybe I can give you a kiss.”

  They looked at each other for a long while. With each second Katelyn was more and more a woman to him; her lips were there with every sensual detail. He had kissed her many times with his huge lips—she had even been inside his mouth. She had given him tiny kisses plenty of time herself. But this was different than any of that. This was a real kiss, a true kiss. Paul started to lean in...

  But Katelyn put her finger on Paul's lips, stopping the kiss. He looked up into her eyes, confused and more than a little hurt. Katelyn sighed, not moving her finger.

  “I was wrong for asking you to breed me,” She said. “And I'd be wrong to accept your kiss. Up until today I've been your companion. Those are the memories you should have of me. If you kiss me, your last memory of me will be as a lover. It's just...not right...”

  Paul never imagined being on the same wavelength with someone would be so crushing. Katelyn understood what he did and he could not push it any further. It was the same thing with asking for her real name. Katelyn was the name of his companion. Another name would bring to mind something else. Maybe some things are best left alone.

  Paul pulled away and Katelyn lowered her finger. “You know,” Paul said, an amused smile coming to his face for the first time since finding himself small. “If you really were parting as my companion, you wouldn't be able to say no to me.”

  “Then you'll just have to remember your good little companion breaking the rules this one time,” Katelyn said, smiling. The two of them leaned in, but not to kiss. Instead, they gave each other a firm hug. They would be parting not as lovers nor even owner and companion; rather, they would be leaving as two human beings who understood, respected, and loved the other. Big and small didn't matter; even in this post-Duality world—Paul now firmly understood—human beings were still human beings.

  There was a sound high above. It wasn't a loud sound, but the power of it caused both Paul and Katelyn to jump. It took a second for Paul to register what it was: it was a knock on his door, and it was done by giant fingers.

“Paul?” Came his mother's massive voice through the door. “It'll be dinnertime in about half an hour. Are you feeling all right? Paul?”

  Paul and Katelyn scooted apart as their eyes were fixed on the massive door. Doris's voice came several more times sounding increasingly concerned each time. Paul didn't know if it would make things better or worse to call out to her, but he knew he was absolutely incapable of doing so.

  Finally, inevitably, the doorknob turned, and Paul's mom walked in. It was the first time Paul had ever laid eyes on a giant, and it was an awe-inspiring yet terrifying moment as this woman who appeared to be well over a hundred feet tall stepped into the room.

  There was a massive intake of air as Doris spotted the scene on the bed. Her eyes went wide as she spotted her son, confirming her worst fears. “Oh, no,” Doris said, sounding absolutely mortified. “Oh god no....”

  She stepped around the bed to get a closer look at her son as he and Katelyn looked up at her. “I can't believe it actually happened...” Doris said as she looked at him. “This is bad...real bad...”

  Her eyes flashed to Katelyn, and a flash of anger appeared across her face. Paul never realized how truly frightening her mother could be until he saw that expression on the giant version of her face, and Katelyn visibly recoiled next to him.

  “What are you doing?” Doris said. She reached forward and snatched Katelyn off the bed as if she was just another discarded object and roughly put her down in her smallhouse without even looking, her eyes flashed back to her son.

  “This is going to mess everything up.” She said, looking down at Paul as if he had done this intentionally.

  “I—I'm sorry...” Paul stammered, but Doris seemed not to care.

  “Shit. What am I going to do with you?” Doris said, more talking to herself than Paul. She stood up back to her full height. Her eyes were shifting, she was clearly thinking fast. As Paul had told Katelyn before; his mother never had a plan for any of her children shrinking. Somehow, she just always thought it would never happen to somebody in their family. They were just too good of people, too high class, whatever kind of thing she thought that would make them immune.

  “We'll just have to get this sorted out.” Doris said. She reached down and picked up her son; and for the first time he found himself being held in the hand of a Big. The power of the fingers around him was unimaginable, and he felt completely helpless. As she carried him down the hallway to her bedroom he had the sinking realization that this helpless feeling would be something he'd have to get used to.

  Doris's bedroom was larger than Paul's and was gigantic to Paul's eyes. Her mother slept here alone ever since Paul's father died almost eleven years ago; Paul and his sisters were generally not allowed in here under normal circumstances, and Paul couldn't remember the last time he had been inside. Paul always wonder whether her mother had a companion locked away here somewhere; owning any tinies would be problematic for Doris politically, but almost everyone owned a companion.

  Doris released her son onto the top of her dresser. “You need some clothes,” Doris said. “I must still have some.” The dresser vibrated under Paul's feet as she opened a drawer, digging around out of his sight range. A minute later she came back up with a complete little outfit for Paul. There was no way to know why those clothes were in there or who used to wear them but Paul wasn't sparing any thought to those questions; he was just relieved to be able to cover up his naked body.

  The clothes fit well enough and at least he had the small dignity as he helplessly stood below his mother's penetrating gaze. She stared at him long and hard, her mind working behind her vast eyes to come to terms with this problem.

  “What a fucking nightmare.” Doris said. She didn't swear much, but Paul knew that when she did somebody had messed up terribly.

  “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...” Paul responded timidly.

  “I know you didn't.” Doris said tersely. “But the fact is you are now a Small. Here, in my house. This is a disaster.” Paul could only imagine his mother was thinking about her social situation and what a massive embarrassment this would be. One might think she would be concerned for the sudden loss of her son's future, but Paul knew reputation was everything to the MP and the humiliation of having a shrinkee son was the overriding factor.

  “Wh-what's going to happen to me?” Paul asked timidly. The world was a blur to him now and he was so overwhelmed he couldn't even imagine his own future.

  “You can't stay here, that's for sure.” Doris said. “That would make things too complicated.”

  “You're getting rid of me?” Paul gasped.

  “I'm not 'getting rid of you', I just need to find you a new home.” Doris said.

  “Hannah!” Paul exclaimed, the answer coming to him in a burst of clarity as bright as day. “Mom, give me to Hannah! I trust her! She'll take good care of me!”

  “Who?” Doris said. “Oh right, your friend from school. What would she need you for? She already has a companion, doesn't she?”

  “What? No! I don't mean like that!” Paul reacted, still shocked to hear himself referenced in those terms.

  “Then how do you mean?” Doris said. “You're a tiny now. Do you think she's going to just take care of you when you're providing her nothing and she already has a professionally trained companion already?”

  “No! She and I, we....” Paul wasn't sure what to say.

  “What, you think she's going to want to marry you like that?” Doris almost laughed. “Forget it, Paul. You're not going to Hannah.”

  Paul felt a weight sink into his heart. His one chance of going into the hands of someone who honestly cared for him was slipping away, and he knew there would be no arguing.

  “Look, I'm going to need to think about this for a little while.” Doris said. She stepped over to her closet and started rooting around for something. Paul was a little shocked to see her pull out a tiny transportation cage from deep in her closet. He didn't know what was more suprising—the fact that she owned one or the fact that he was about to be put into it.

  “The girls are downstairs and the food's going to get cold.” Doris said, placing the cage next to Paul and opening the door. “We'll figure something out over dinner. Come on, get in.”

  Paul wanted to respond, to ask why he didn't get a say in any of this. But his mother was intimidating enough at her normal size; now the size of a small mountain Paul didn't have any energy to argue with her. Dejected, Paul stepped over the lip of the cage as his mother clicked it shut behind him.

  Without saying anything else Doris turned and left her bedroom, shutting the door behind her and leaving Paul alone in his cage. The cage was a little smaller than his bedroom and had places to sit with seat belts for the roughness of transports. He had seen these cages before, even carried them on occasion, but he never thought he'd be in one himself.

  The true helplessness of his situation was starting to set in. As a Big he had control over his destiny; choices had to be made those choices weighed heavily on his mind. But now, not only were there no choices to be made, but he wasn't even allowed to make them. He was a Tiny, and all Tinies were owned. There were no exceptions; he was now property.

  He thought about Hannah—a girl he was willing to spend the rest of his life with. Even if it was as his owner instead of his wife he would still do it without question. No one was kinder than Hannah; he would feel safe in her hands, under her direction, being by her side. Imagining the shock and pain on her face when she saw him small hurt him, but she would accept her new role as his owner.

  But none of that would happen. Hannah didn't know he had shrunk and even if she did there would be no way for her to get him apart from buying him, and Paul doubted his mom would sell him. Even thinking of himself as something to be bought and sold felt surreal and upsetting. The idea of tinies being property was just an unquestioning part of life for Paul before today, but Paul never thought it would be him in that position.

  It felt like hours had passed before he heard the rumbling noises of Big feet on the stairs in the hall. The door opened and Doris re-emerged, walking up to the cage and looking down at Paul between the bars.

  “I'm giving you to Sarah,” Doris announced unceremoniously. “She has the tools to look after you and she's agreed to take you in.”

  The declaration was as final as it was abrupt. His oldest sister was to be his owner, and her other tinies were going to be his cohorts. Doris's reached for the handle at the top of the cage and Paul braced himself as she picked it up, her leg moving swiftly back and forth beyond the bars as she carried him down the hall towards the stairs.

  As he was carried down into the dining room Paul was greeted by the sight of two more giantesses: his sisters. Brie put her hands on her face in an expression that looked disturbingly delighted; Sarah's reaction was more controlled, but Paul could see quite the curious reaction in her eyes.

  “So you're sure you'll be able to take him?” Doris asked her eldest daughter, “You have enough room?”

  “There's plenty of room, it will be fine.” Sarah said. Doris passed the cage to Sarah who raised it up to get a closer look at her shrunken brother. Paul looked up into the face of his new owner as she scrutinized him. Brie pressed her face against the cage from the other side.

  “Can I see him?” Brie asked. She looked almost giddy at the sight of him.

  “Not now, Brie,” Sarah thankfully replied. At least Sarah was giving the situation the seriousness it deserved; Paul didn't think he could handle Brie laughing at him right now.

  “Need anything else?” Doris asked.

  “No, I have everything he needs at my house.” Sarah replied. “I suppose I'll go back and get him settled in, then?”

  “Right,” Doris said. She almost seemed to be rushing Sarah out the door; eager to get this unexpected tiny out of her house. “Dinner tomorrow, then?”

  “Yes, I'll be here.” Sarah said. Paul got one last look at Brie staring at him and his mother pointedly looking away as Sarah opened the door and stepped outside into the cool night air.

  The cage moved up and down in a rhythmic fashion as Sarah walked down the street. All around him were vast, towering houses and trees, all along a street as wide as a river surrounded by a curb like tall walls. It was a huge new world to him; a world he could no longer access on his own terms. Sarah's legs made swishing sounds as she walked, the fast walls of fabric-covered skin moving by hypnotically. Sarah was walking quickly almost as if she didn't anyone to see her leaving her mother's house with a tiny-cage in hand. And this cage was bringing him to his new life with his sister, whom he now had to understand was his owner.

It only took a couple minutes for Sarah to reach her house as it was only a few short blocks away. Paul had only been here a handful of times in the three years Sarah lived here and had never seen where she kept her tinies. Paul didn't even know how many she owned and was nervous at the thought of having to meet them so quickly after having shrunk.

  Sarah put the cage down on a small table near the door and opened the latch. It took a moment before Paul was able to step forward and tentatively step out onto the table, looking up nervously at his sister who looked impassively back down again.

  “Well, here we are,” Sarah said, flatly. “I agreed to take you in as a favor to mom, but I don't really have anything for you to do here. You aren't trained in anything and frankly I'm not sure what use you could have, but we'll figure out a more permanent solution soon.”

  This was Paul's chance to plea with his sister. “Sarah,” He said. “Can you please bring me to Hannah? I'm sure she'd take care of me.”

  “Hannah, your friend from school?” Sarah asked. “No. I told mom I would take care of you; I can't just pass you off to someone else like that.”

  “Please!” Paul begged. “She's the only one I want to be with! I—I know she'd have a use for me!”

  “Paul, you've been small for less than a day.” Sarah said. “You aren't thinking clearly; you need some time to calm down. She might have been close to you but things are different now. I know you're going through a lot but it's not the time for unrealistic romantic notions.”

  The look in Sarah's face was much more sympathetic than Doris's had been, but it was still just as firm. Paul knew he stood no chance.

  Sarah reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a man Paul's own size: it was Barney, her companion. Paul had seen Barney many times before—he had been Sarah's companion since she was a little girl—but had never interacted with him. Sarah placed Barney on the table next to him, and Paul couldn't help but notice Barney was a full head taller than him and far more muscularly built. Barney was staring him down, sizing him up.

  “You know Barney; he's going to show you around and teach you my rules.” Sarah said. “The best way to talk to me is through him; I'm very busy as you know and I can't give all the tinies extra attention. You two shake hands.”

  Barney held out his hand to shake, this once-toy-sized man now looking very intimidating. Paul reached his hand out and Barney took it, almost crushing his fingers as he shook his hand. Barney didn't break eye contact for a single moment, and Paul could see nothing but seething contempt in his eyes.

  “Very good.” Sarah said. She reached down and picked up Barney and Paul with one hand each, carrying them to another room. This new large room might have been the dining room in a previous age, but it had since been re-purposed to house a significant number of tinies. There were a series of purpose-built tiny buildings on a series of tables arranged in a u-shape with a series of spiral stairs leading down to floor level, where there were a few more odds and ends.

  Sarah placed Barney and Paul down in front of a Smallhouse which was not much different from the one in Paul's former bedroom except that this was connected to the units beside it with a balcony that linked all the buildings together.

  “This unit's been empty so it's yours now.” Sarah said. “Barney's going to show you around and introduce you to everyone; he'll get you started with some clothes and basic supplies. He's the leader here so you can consider his word to be mine. I'll leave you two to it, and I'll check on you tomorrow.”

  Sarah turned and left, closing the door behind her. Now Paul was stuck here alone with a man he had only ever seen as his sister's toy; a man that was now glaring down at him with a smug expression. Paul didn't know what to say to him, but Barney spoke first.

  “So. The golden boy is a small now.” He said with a smug little chuckle. “Figures it would be you.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Paul asked warily.

  “Seems like the wimpiest bigs become shrinkers.” Barney said. “It's like the virus can smell weakness.” Paul wanted to retort but Barney was so much larger that he didn't dare.

  “So I guess I have to show you around the place.” Barney grumbled, as if it was a waste of time. “As you should know Sarah runs a full-service Pageantry operation including an academy and on-site breeding op. Everyone here but me is a model so they take their looks very seriously; you'll have a lot to answer to if you mess up.”

  He pointed at the house behind him. “This is your unit, number 12.” Barney said. “It's got a bedroom, walk-in closets, room for dry storage and some space for basic activities, but showers and kitchens are communal. None of the cushy individual bullshit you were used to.”

  Barney started to walk along the wide balcony walkway, so Paul followed him. Without bothering to look back at Paul, Barney continued his tour: “These units belong to the models. These are for the ladies, and these are for the guys. They're probably at the spa right now; you'll meet them in a minute.”

  Barney pointed across to the other side of the U. “There is the breeding facility. There are four mothers and seven children currently living inside. You're not to go inside unless specifically instructed by the manager or I; no men allowed except those explicitly given permission to breed with the women. Next to that is the academy which instructs the next generation of models. There are eight children at the school, they live in the attached dormitory right there. You probably won't be going in there either.”

  Barney had led Paul to the center of the U where the three largest buildings sat. “This here is the cafeteria. Some of the models are decent cooks so the food is pretty good. Over here is the Spa; this is where the models work on their bodies and prepare for shows. The models spend a lot of time in here but I don't think you will.”

  “And this.” Barney indicated a large house-shaped structure next to the cafeteria. “Is my house. It's the only building that is locked, and no one is allowed in without my permission. You'll never get it, so don't ask. This is where I live when I'm not with Sarah.”

  He pointed down to the floor below. “Down there is some room to stretch your legs if you like to run, and there's some recreation down there. But don't get in the way of anyone who actually has to work for their keep. Also, no tinies are allowed out of this room—except me of course—so don't even think about leaving.”

  Barney looked back at Paul. “So that's pretty much it.” He said. “Now for a few ground rules. First, everything goes through me. If you need any supplies I'm the one who orders them, but don't go thinking I'm going to just get you every toy you want. Second, don't fucking bother me. I'm a very busy man; my responsibility is to Sarah, of course, but I also keep things in order around here and act as a liaison between the models and Sarah. So don't go bothering me with trivial problems. If you need anything talk to Jules: he's the manager of the models and he'll decide if your problem is worth my time.”

  “How do I talk to my sister?” Paul interjected. Barney's eyes narrowed.

  “You talk to Sarah through me.” Barney barked. “And you don't bother me without going through Jules first, like I told you. Don't think you have special privilege here because of who you were before you shrunk. You are the least among anybody here; everybody else has a role and a purpose, and you're just dead weight. If you asked Sarah she'd tell you the same thing.”

  Being brought down to a new low Paul lowered his eyes. Barney continued: “Thirdly, you stay out of the models' way. They are the ones bringing money and prestige to this establishment, not you, so they are the priority. Fourth: I already told you what areas were out of bounds, so stay out of them. And fifth: If you get any of the girls pregnant I will personally break your fucking neck.”

  Paul's eyes shot back up to Barney's in shock with such a harsh threat. Everything about Barney's face and body suggested that he was not only deadly serious about that but perfectly capable as well. In an act of false friendliness Barney slapped Paul on the back and turned him around.

  “Now we'll go into the Spa and get your introduction over with.” Barney said. He led Paul to the front door of the largest building, opening it and swinging it open. He was greeted by the sight of a large and open ground floor full of mirrors and what he could only assume to be spa equipment of various kinds. There were at least a dozen people in here, both men and women, and they were all very attractive.

  As soon as Paul stepped in all eyes turned to look at the newcomer. He was very likely the shortest person in the room and by far the most plain-looking, lacking even the gruff musculature of Barney. The looks he received were not flattering; as if something undesirable had just come in. Paul didn't know what to say but Barney spoke.

  “We have a stowaway now.” Barney sneered. No one spoke and he continued: “Sarah's kid brother just shrunk and he's staying with us.”

  Laughter and derisive noises broke out from the models. Paul felt his insides squirm—it seemed the resentment smalls felt towards bigs was alive and well and he doubted he would get much sympathy. The bigger problem, however, was how being Sarah's brother didn't seem to be any help at all, and he was starting to understand that his sister was not going to be an ally in his new life.

  “What's your name?” Said one of the men: he appeared to be in his mid-30s; he was as tall as Barney but had a handsome face and a chiseled physique.

  “Paul,” Paul said nervously. Some more jeers from the others followed.

  “My name is Jules and I'm the manager of the modeling operation.” He said. “I'm sure Barney has told you how things run around here, so come to me if you need anything, though I must tell you as you're not a model your needs are very low on my priorities.” Jules' attitude was more matter-of-fact than Barney's open hostility, but it was just as cold.

  “O-okay, thanks,” Paul said, timidly. Paul wondered if he was going to be introduced to the other models, but neither Barney nor the models seemed to have any interest. Instead, Barney steered him back out of the spa and into the larger room.

  “Sarah wants you to get some things, so let's get down to the loading area.” Barney said with the tone that he wanted to get it over with and be rid of Paul as quickly as possible. The loading area was at the left end of the U and contained several shelves and racks full of items.

  “At least once a week Sarah unloads a bag of items for us here.” Barney said. “Jules is in charge of distributing modeling-related items, but I oversee everything else. Sarah also brings me to the Tiny Supply Store once or twice a week for some shopping. I keep a small supply of extra items here but that doesn't mean you can take without asking. Anyway, get yourself a couple outfits, and make it quick.”

  The clothes were not organized in any real kind of way and it was clear that these were the less-than-desired leftovers from everybody else. He didn't know the ways tinies measured sizes and most of them weren't marked anyway, so he had to just visually estimate the size. He wanted to try some on for size but was far too intimidated to ask Paul; who was pacing impatiently in front of the area.

  “You done yet?” Barney grumbled. Paul stumbled out of the storage area with enough clothes to make three or four outfits. “All right, good.” Barney said, the two of them walking part of the way around the U until they got back to Paul's new unit.

  “You might as well go in and get settled.” Barney said. “I've got to head back to Sarah so don't bother me with anything else. These overhead lights automatically turn of at ten, so don't get spooked. Bye.”

  Without waiting for Paul to say goodbye or anything else Barney turned and left without so much as a backwards look to Paul. Paul watched as he passed the spa and kitchen on the way to his own large house unlocking the door and disappearing inside. Not knowing what else to do, Paul opened the door to his new home.

  Compared to the house he had lived in as a big this house seemed so fake and flimsy, though somehow sturdier due to the vastly smaller weights it had to hold. The walls were just straight boards with simple patterns mass-painted onto them. The furniture was all the cheap kind of stuff you could buy at any Tiny Supply Store. There were many painted cardboard pieces that visually imitated objects found in normal big houses, but none of them were functional.

  Paul walked up the cardboard stairs to the bedroom. The bed was another mass-produced cardboard item but at least the mattress and pillows looked comfertable. There were hangars in the closet that were little more than wooden sticks and Paul decided to hang his clothes up. Following that he flopped down on his bed—it was pretty comfortable, but a little lumpy. He supposed it would have to do.

  As he lay there looking up at the painted cardboard ceiling he felt a weight of hopelessness settle into his heart. His entire world had been taken away from him and here he was stuck like a refugee inside his sister's tiny operation and he was the least relevant person here. And it wasn't like this was Sarah's main concern—she had a full-time career as an accountant and had an active social life outside of work. All while she owned a few dozen tinies whose lives revolved around what she decided to do. Paul was an afterthought of an afterthought.

  Paul felt tears coming to his face. He had never felt so lonely. He would have given anything to have Katelyn right now, to hold her in his hand, to feel the comfort of her body on his. But Katelyn was his companion no more; now he was in a house much like hers had been, and he was surrounded by the same type of fake cardboard furniture that had surrounded her for all those years? Should Paul have insisted to his mother that they buy nicer furniture and surroundings for Katelyn? Paul never really understood what a wretched existence tinies lead, even well-cared-for ones like Katelyn.

  Paul thought about Katelyn as he lay there. He wondered what she was doing now—probably crying, watching her world fall down around him just as Paul was. They were two tiny people, each crying in a tiny house surrounded by cardboard furniture. What was this life, anyway? It was stunning to think back on how he had simply just owned Katelyn, that he was considered superior just for his size and she was his property, while in reality she was much more the human than he was. At least she had a purpose in life, and throughout those eleven years all she did was give, give, give to him and all he did was take and take. And now she at least had the chance for another life as a companion for someone else while Paul—well, he didn't know what his future would hold.

  After some time of laying there the lights of the greater room turned out and he was left in darkness, just spots of light coming from some of the other little buildings of the group. Paul didn't even bother looking for a light source in his room. He was plum exhausted and even though he hadn't eaten since shrinking he didn't feel at all like going to find some food. He took off his clothes and pushed them to the floor, getting under the blanket of his cheep cardboard bed. Wishing that he would wake up and this would all go away, he eventually drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

It did not take long into the next day to realize just how low on the pecking order he was. It was the first full day of being small as he woke up in his new bed. He felt a pang in his heart as he realized that Katelyn was not there to wish him a good morning as she had always done. Still, he felt as though he should try to carry on as normally as he could.

  Paul was used to taking a shower first thing in the morning before school. Unfortunately, there was not a shower in his apartment. He figured the showers were at the spa and they were; up on the second floor. He got dirty looks from the models as he entered with his change of clothes in hand. Feeling so much like a trespasser he walked up the stairs. There was a shower room for each sex, but almost as soon as he stepped into the men's showers a towel-clad model was pushing him out.

  “You're not showering with us!” He said haughtily. “You'll have to wait until the showers are empty.” So Paul stood awkwardly in the hallway for over half an hour waiting for the men to come out. Two gorgeous, long-legged women came out of the other shower, each wearing a robe and a scowl that disfigured their otherwise beautiful faces.

  The men left one by one and Paul didn't dare peak in again until he was sure he heard no more sounds. The showers were indeed empty so Paul entered. There were over a dozen showers in here and there had to be no more than four or five men when Paul first arrived; they just really didn't want to share with him.

  Paul got undressed and started to shower. The water came out in larger globs than he was used to—it really drove home how everything was different now, even the most ordinary things. He managed to find some soap left by one of the models and he cleaned himself up best he could. He also realized that he became dry a lot faster, which was good because he wanted to get dressed and get out of the showers as quickly as he could.

  After that he decided he wanted to eat some breakfast, so he made his way over to the kitchen. Food had been served and it was still warm sitting in large bowls and plates along a wide countertop. People stopped their conversations and glared at him as he walked past, feeling like a thief as he loaded his plate with bacon, eggs, and toast.

  He knew that asking to sit with anyone was out of the question so he sat alone. The texture of food was very different at this size but fortunately the taste was the same. A mixed group of male and female models were “talking shop”; using a lot of modeling terminology Paul was unaware of. When he was done eating he had an awkward moment when he didn't know what to do with his dishes. He stood awkwardly near the food until one of the men told him about a dishwasher under the counter, his voice the friendliest yet as it only carried minor distain.

  Paul had no idea what to do with his time. This time yesterday he was heading to school. He imagined what would be going on now: the teacher in each period would call his name only to get no answer and mark him absent. They wouldn't think anything of it, just thinking he was ill or maybe was skipping school. When he didn't come back the next day, then the rest of the week, then the next week, that's when people would really start to wonder.

  Paul wondered how it would be handled. Would his fate be announced to the other students? He doubted it. People leaving and entering the school was common; usually because of moving but occasionally you'd hear the story about someone shrinking. There were often many false rumors, and many times there was a classmate assumed to be shrunk but had actually moved, as well as shrinkers whose families covered their dissaperance up by saying they moved.

  Would Paul be one of those cases? The way his mother was acting, he didn't doubt it. After being absent a few days she would have him quietly struck from the roster of students, his name no longer being called and his presence eventually being forgotten. It was disturbing, almost as if he was a ghost. Would family photos containing him eventually disappear from his family's wall as well?

  Paul ended up walking down the spiral staircase and taking a walk around the massive room. There were a couple of models down here as well but they were content to ignore Paul as long as he kept his distance. There were a few odds and ends down here including a book—it seemed the stereotype of tinies being illiterate wasn't entirely true here either, and Paul sought out a quiet place to sit and read. At least he could lose himself in a fictional world for a while.

  After more time had passed Paul thought he might go upstairs for lunch. Leaving his book where he found it just in case someone came back for it he walked back up the spiral stairs and into the cafeteria. More contemptuous looks followed but he was able to get a sandwich; thick and awkwardly textured but made as expertly as anything using such massive ingredients.

  The cafeteria was full enough that Paul could not get further than two seats away from anyone. He thought about taking his lunch outside but he didn't want to be that coward who hid no matter how bad things seemed for him. Everyone else sat in little groups with their backs turned towards him as he ate. He wanted to leave as fast as he could but he was quickly realizing that eating took a lot longer when you had such a tiny mouth; as even though the portions were scaled appropriately the fibers that made up the food were still the same size.

  There was a loud presence as Barney entered the room. He shared a few passing words with several people on his way to grab his food. Paul tried to ignore him even though Barney's personality was a magnet for attention in the room. He was succeeding until he felt a sharp elbow in his back—Barney had flopped down into the seat next to Paul negligently bumping into him on the way. Paul's head shot up and he was tempted to say something but Barney was completely ignoring him, his back turned and talking to a group of girls on his other side.

  These actions sent Paul fuming. Barney was definitely the clear alpha around here; in a population made up entirely of models he was built like an athlete, and his loud and aggressive personality overpowered those of the prissy male models who smiled weakly and laughed sycophanticly at his jokes while the attractive female models tittered and swooned. Paul was not the type to challenge someone like Barney even before he shrunk.

  Barney took up more than his fair share of personal space and Paul had to lean out of his way when eating. He couldn't wait to be done and was relieved when he could get up and put his dishes in the dishwasher. He tried to leave quietly but Barney put his arm in front of Paul stopping him dead in his tracks.

  “Hey new guy!” Barney said. “How about you hang out a minute and let us get to know you better. You're Sarah's brother after all.” A sarcastically-impressed “Oooh” went around the room.

  “Uh, okay,” Paul said uneasily. Barney stood up and clapped Paul on the shoulder with his heavy arm.

  “So what do you like to do?” Barney asked, feigning politeness.

  “Uh...” Paul said, hardly knowing what to say. “I like reading a playing baseball.”

  “Baseball!” Barney said. “Must have been a star athlete, weren't you?”

  “I just used to play in the park.” Paul said, feeling his face turn read.

  “Oh that's a shame. You could have been a star athlete.” Barney said. “So tell us, what were you going to do when you finished school?” Paul wanted nothing more than to escape this conversation but with Barney's arm around him and all eyes on him he saw no way out.

  “I was thinking of joining the military.” Paul said, humiliated. Barney and many of the other models burst out laughing.

  “We have a soldier boy here!” Barney said. “Following in your father's foosteps I see. Think he'd be proud of you?”

  Paul had no idea what to say. His father died when he was six and Paul had no clue what he'd do if he knew what happened to Paul. Mercifully, Barney waved his hand to dismiss the subject.

  “You came from a wealthy family.” Barney said. “Certainly you must have owned a bunch of tinies like us. What was it, models? A breeding Op? Sports?”

  “I—I didn't own any tinies.” Paul said. Barney turned his head doubtfully. “Except my companion.”

  “Ah, just one I see.” Barney said. “What was her name? Come on, don't be shy, you can tell us.”

  “...Katelyn.” Paul eventually forced out. To his confusion a snicker arose from the crowd.

  “Ah that's right. Who could ever forget Katelyn.” Barney said, shooting a knowing eye at some of the men in the room. “I haven't seen her in years. Shame you never brought her to family dinners. But oh well, she's gone now.” Paul felt that same stab in his heart being reminded of that.

  “Don't be sad,” Barney said with mock sympathy. “I'm sure her skills are being put to good use somewhere else. After all, we both know she knows how to make a guy feel good.”

  Half shocked and half furious Paul turned to face Barney in a fury and said: “What do you mean by that?” A hush fell across the room. No one ever challenged Barney and everyone was expecting a fight to break out, but Barney merely smiled and patted him condescendingly on the cheek.

  “Don't worry your little self about it.” Barney said smarmily. “Now if you're done eating, why don't you clear out of here and stop wasting everyone's time because they have dress rehearsal in three hours and need to get ready.”

  Using all his self-restraint not to punch Barney Paul slowly stepped back and turned to leave. As he left he could hear Jules say: “You heard the man. Three hours to get ready! Chop-chop!” Paul headed back to his house where at least he could be alone; climbing the stairs and throwing himself on his bed, fighting back tears of rage and anguish.

  Paul closed his eyes and tried to make the world around him disappear. He focused with all his might to put himself back in his old bedroom. He visualized the ancient wood paneling, the creaky floorboards, and the window with a view of the house across the way. To his right was his bedside table, and Katelyn was sitting there on the edge of her smallhouse looking at him with concern.

  Why are you so upset? Katelyn asked him. Paul reached out his hand to her and she climbed aboard. He held all the features of her cute little face and body in his mind as he looked down at her.

  I can ask you something and you'd be completely honest with me, right? Paul asked her. Katelyn looked up at him with a look of shock and fear, terrified that she might have done something to make Paul not trust her.

  Of course. I would never lie to you. Katelyn said.

  Before Sarah moved out, did you have any encounters with Barney? You know....sexual? Paul asked. Even in his mind it felt terrible and wrong. Katelyn looked up at him with horror.

  No! Never! Katelyn insisted. I'm your Katelyn, I belong only to you! I would never do something like that!

  But the frustrating thing was Paul could never know for sure and he could never ask Katelyn for real. Katelyn and his Big bedroom dissolved from his mind, leaving him lying there on his cardboard bed. Perhaps it was just another intimidation tactic used by Barney; it had been less than a day and he was already under Paul's skin. Paul had to remember that even though he had only seen flashes of Barney in his youth—either in Sarah's hands or peeking out of her pocket—Barney had had a front row seat to see him whenever Paula and Sarah were around each other, not to mention whatever Sarah decided to tell Barney about him over the years. Barney was close to his owner—very close; every bit as close as Katelyn had been to Paul. They knew and trusted each other more than anyone else—and through Barney Paul was finally starting to realize how his sister truly saw him.

  Paul could hear the sounds of the models talking outside his house. From what he gathered, dress rehearsal was a very big deal. Dragging himself off his bed he went to the window and looked out. Various people were heading into and out of buildings in various states of dress and make-up. There was a buzz of activity akin to a sports team getting ready for a big game.

  It took a couple hours before he found out why. A loud creaking sound filled the entire vast room as the door opened and Sarah walked in, Barney in one hand and a few items including a clipboard, camera, and pen in her other hand. Paul hadn't seen a Big since yesterday and had forgotten just how huge and imposing they were. Paul felt as though he were practically in his sister's clutches even though he was on the other side of a wall—a wall she could easily tear with one finger if she wanted.

  The tinies emerged from their houses as Barney hopped from her hand onto the U-shaped walkway. Paul wondered how Barney had come in with Sarah when he knew this was Sarah's first visit to the Tinies today, but he imagined Barney must have a hidden way to access the rest of the house. All the tinies were out including the children from the academy and the mothers with their small children.

  The first thing Sarah did was do a roll call. She read each person's name off a sheet of paper and they acknowledged her obediently. Paul noticed that Sarah never called his name; but he firugred this must be specifically for the models, as Barney was not called either. Paul counted thirty six names including the children. His sister was the owner of thirty-eight souls including himself and Barney; that was more people than had been in any of Paul's classes. And still Sarah said the nerve to call it a “small” operation she did on the side. Paul knew some of the bigger operations had literally hundreds of smalls under one roof but for one person to casually own so many tinies, that was surprising.

  Sarah then put everyone through their paces, inspecting them thoroughly as they were put through their paces. Sometimes she would pick up one of the models and hold them directly under her eye to inspect them, going as far as to peel back their clothing in several cases to inspect their skin. All the models let her do this obediently, following all orders to turn over, strike this or that pose, or even remove certain clothing. Sarah also took many pictures with her camera.

  In all this continued for around two hours. During this time everyone stayed outside on the walkway; no one went back in for a minute, not even the children. Everyone's eyes were on Sarah, and Barney's eyes were on everyone else, monitoring them, undoubtedly making a mental note of any errant behavior he would have to correct.

  “Very good,” Sarah said at least. “You are all dismissed now, and I'll see you on Thursday. But right now I need to see Paul; where is he?”

  Paul jumped as his name was mentioned. What could his sister want from him? He couldn't hear what Barney was saying but could see him pointing at his house. Paul wondered if he ought to go outside to meet her but Sarah reached right over to the top of his house and effortlessly slid the ceiling aside so she could reach down at take him.

  Paul found himself in his sister's hand as she lifted him out of his house and walked out of the tinies' room. She closed the door behind him and walked down the massive hallway to her kitchen. She opened her hand and her tiny brother sat in her palm, looking up at her.

  “Are you getting settled in?” Sarah asked him. Paul felt the tiniest surge of hope; maybe she was willing to help him.

  “Um well...” He felt like an idiot whining about Barney being mean to him. “It's, uh, hard, you know.”

  Sarah nodded. “Barney told me you've already crossed some of the models.” She said. “They're on a tight schedule and don't have much room to wiggle, so you need to learn their routine so you can be out of their way, understand?”

  “Y-yeah.” Paul said, feeling very small as his hope dripped away.

  “If you want to endear yourself to them you should offer to do some work.” Sarah said. “Offer to clean and run errands. They'll appreciate that.”

  “Sarah?” Paul asked. In a flash of bravery he had though of an idea and knew he had to ask Sarah right away or he'd lose his nerve.

  “Yes?” Sarah replied.

  “Do you think you could get Katelyn from mom?” Paul asked, hopefully. “Think you could bring her here?”

  Sarah sighed. “Paul, we sold Katelyn this morning.”

  A massive stab of pain shot through Paul's heart filling him with a paralyzing anguish. It was worse than when he learned he wouldn't be going to Hannah's, and even worse than the moment he first realized he was about to shrink. Tears welled up in Paul's eyes and he wanted to do nothing but wail and cry.

  “Who did you sell her to?” Paul asked, his voice breaking.

  “A breeder.” Sarah said, the topic clearly not interesting to her.

  “How could you do that?” Paul wailed, losing control. “How could you sell Katelyn? Why couldn't you bring her here and keep her with me?”

  “Paul, there's no place for a trained companion at a modeling op.” Sarah said in an annoyed voice. “I'm letting you stay as a favor to mom, but there's no place here for someone like Katelyn.” She sighed. “I know she meant a lot to you, but you should be happy for her. She's going to have at least five kids and she's going to spend the rest of her days teaching new companions to be just as good to their owners as she was to you.”

  “Then please just give me to Hannah.” Paul wailed, the tears coming now as his voice became strained. “Give me, sell me, I don't care. If you could sell Katelyn just like that you can certainly sell me! Please?”

  “Paul, we've discussed this. It's not happening.” Sarah said, firmly.

  “I hate it here!” Paul shouted, his nose starting to run as he cried. “I can't stand it! Just take me home, let me be with Hannah, or wherever you sent Katelyn, or anywhere else...”

  “Paul!” Sarah snapped, the giantess's barking voice grinding Paul's hysterical rant to a stop. “You need to stop. You are a tiny, and tinies don't choose where they go. I know you're not trained like a normal tiny, but you need to understand that I am your owner and you are my property. I decide where you go and what happens to you and I will not tolerate this disrespect.”

  Paul breathed fast as he looked into Sarah's massive, steady eyes through his own tear-stained ones, feeling the weight of his situation crushing down on him. He was broken, and the only course for him was submission, pure and simple.

  “Say 'Yes, Sarah'.” Sarah commanded.

  “Y-yes, Sarah.” Paul echoed.

  “Very good.” Sarah said. “I'm going to send you back to your house and I want you to think about how you can best serve your cohorts, and I don't want to hear any more about you getting into altercations. I'd hate to have to put you in isolation to punish you. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” Paul said.

  “Good.” Sarah said. Closing her palm around her brother she walked back to the tinies room and their u-shaped community. She reached through the roof of Paul's house to deposit him back in the bedroom before sliding the top shut once again. Paul saw her pick Barney off the table before leaving the room once again.

  Broken, dejected, and feeling smaller than ever, Paul flopped down on his bed and started to cry. He cried for Katelyn, he cried for himself, he cried for this whole stupid world for being so fucked up. Why did there have to be bigs and smalls? Why couldn't there just be one common human mass? Surely without a size difference between them humans would get along and there would be no more exploitation and heartbreak.

  The only thing Paul could think to do was to follow Sarah's instructions and essentially become a janitor for the models. He had to do it as his owner's words were law—and that's how Paul had to think of Sarah now: not as his sister but his owner. There was a small ray of hope that he could find some joy and acceptance in the work—the janitor at his school was a much-beloved 60-year-old man—but his heart still broke for the life he could have had and the people he was leaving behind.

Things did get better for Paul, at least by a little. At breakfast the next morning he timidly approached Jules about taking on some custodial tasks. Jules was still a bit condescending towards the newcomer but respected his drive to help. Soon he had a cleaning schedule that sent him around the U to scrub down floors, pick up trash, and clean toilets. The work was monotonous but easy; he worked in every building but Barney's house, which was still strictly off-limits to him.

  In his work Paul got to know some of the other people. Many still treated him crudely and didn't trust him not to steal their stuff while he was cleaning, but others were starting to warm up to him if only ever so slightly. A couple of the models started chit-chatting with him when he stopped by, but the people nicest to him were the mothers. Most of them were in their late 20s or 30s and their modeling days were behind them so they were busy creating the next generation of models, but a couple of the mothers were younger than him.

  Paul knew that it was common practice to breed smalls when they reached the age of 12, but he doubted the common knowledge that they matured much faster than Bigs. He felt terrible for these moms—they were not deemed worthy enough to be models on their own but they came from modeling lineages so they were tasked with pumping out new models for as long as their reproductive system could take it, and when they were all done they'd be sent to live out their days among the Pixies on the farm. He knew the same fate met women of athletic backgrounds or companions who were never sold.

  One of the girls named Bethany was especially kind—she would knit in her free time and upon seeing Paul in his poorly-fitting clothes presented him with a shirt hemmed to his size, a gesture that deeply touched him. When he was cleaning out her room one day she revealed to him the main reason she had been so kind.

  “My father was a shrinker just like you.” Bethany said. “His family owned a large modeling op and they let him live there. He didn't even have to work but he worked very hard just like you do. He fell in love with one of the models and was even allowed to marry her. I was their fourth child; my father died when I was 10 and I was sold to your mother, then passed to your sister a while later. I couldn't cut it as a model but I was deemed good enough to breed. Sarah assigned Shawn to me and we're trying for my third.”

  Bethany understood his plight as she too was treated like property by her family; she had been sold by the people who were technically her aunts, uncles, and cousins, who might have seen her father as a person but only saw her as another product to be moved. It never occurred Paul to think about just how often shrinkers entered the pool of tinies. With one out of ten men and one out of twenty women shrinking they were bound to come up here and there, but as he quickly learned shinkers were as a stark disadvantage. While tinies had been bred for generations for specialized tasks while Bigs were—for a lack of a better word—regular people. That's why shrinkers were rarely bred with regular tinies; it would corrupt carefully curated bloodlines. They were usually kept by families as embarrassing little secrets or sent to live with the Pixies, who after all were no more specially bred than the Bigs. Either Bethany's father was exceptionally handsome or her mother was a truly top model because the fact Bethany was allowed to breed given her half-blood status was quiet remarkable.

  Barney's campaign of harassment continued but had ebbed ever so slightly. He still talked down to Paul and shoulder-barged him whenever he passed by, but he very rarely made more than the passing comment. As far as Paul could tell, as long as he kept his head down and did his work Sarah didn't have to think about him, and if Sarah didn't think about Paul then Barney wouldn't need to bother either. Barney still gave Paul a hard time about ordering the supplies he needed for his job, but he would always come through.

  Paul learned a bit more about Barney over the passing days. Barney spent most of his days “Around the U” as everyone said, but his evenings, nights, and early mornings were usually spent with Sarah. Paul learned that there was a special private lift in the wall behind Barney's house that brought him directly to Sarah's bedroom where Barney apparently had yet another smallhouse. He lived like a king among smalls; Paul learned he had his own fully functional bathroom and kitchen in his house on the U, and who knows what he had up in Sarah's bedroom. Barney was at Sarah's beck and call but she listened to and trusted him, so he pretty much had the run of the place and acted as both Sarah's ears and mouthpiece.

  Barney would often return to the U late in the evening once Sarah had gone to bed to party and drink with the models. He used his ability to make orders to the store to keep a fully stocked bar in his house, and he would invite those he would consider worthy to come drink with him. Only a few of the guys had this privilege—Jules being one of them—but there would be an ever-shifting cadre of girls among them. Paul would stand by his window and count: there would always be one less girl coming out than going in, and it would always be a different one, though Barney had his favorites. The “lucky” girl would usually make her way back home from his place in the early morning hours. Paul wondered about the risk of pregnancy given Barney's rather harsh warning to him on their first day, but he gathered that Barney had a supply of condoms in his house, a rather rare commodity for a tiny to have as usually they were either being bred or celibate. Paul wondered if Sarah approved of all this, but he doubted Barney would do anything Sarah didn't know about.

  As for Sarah, she would come into the room three or four times a week to conduct her inspections and consult with Jules and the other models. Apparently they were building for a major show coming in the next month and there were major cash prizes and accolades involved. Though Sarah was generally encouraging towards her models she did make a few veiled threats that she would be selling off underpreformers. The event was still a ways off but the level of tension around the house was noticeably rising.

  Sarah's boyfriend Charlie would make an occasional appearance. Paul had met him a couple times before he had shrunk; Charlie was a few years older than Sarah and worked at the same accounting firm she did. Sarah would show off her models to him, having the women put on routines for him. He had his favorite, though: Dianne, a tall, slender model with hip-length chestnut-brown hair who would leap energetically into Charlie's hand whenever he offered it to her. She would clutch his fingers suggestively and shoot smug glances back at the other women from his hand. Dianne would disappear for hours with Charlie or even overnight. It wasn't a mystery what they were doing because Dianne bragged about it to anyone she could, saying in a loud voice “Semen is great for the skin, especially when you get it all over you”. Paul wondered where Sarah fit into all of this but neither Dianne nor anyone else ever talked about it. No one ever talked about Sarah's personal life or anything outside her role as their owner and the administrator of their Op. That was the one thing that was private and out-of-bounds.

  After three weeks at Sarah's Paul was starting to find stability, if not actual happiness. He still pined for the people and things of his old life but he no longer went to bed crying. His world was the square footage of this converted living room which was now the tinies room, and his mindset was starting to shrink to fit. More and more he found his mind preoccupied with his cleaning tasks, gossip among the models, problems with getting the supplies he needed from Barney, and the upcoming event. He was looking forward to the tension releasing once the event was over, and the arrivals of new models that would just see him as part of the group and not just as the awkward new guy.

  One particular afternoon he had been cleaning the children's wing, and he brought over lunch for them from the cafeteria. The children liked him the most of anyone, probably because he was kind to them and didn't ignore them like most of the models did. When he first started bringing them lunch the models who cooked would give him a hard time, but once they realized it meant a child-free lunch for the models they were willing to load him up with snacks for the whole academy.

  “Where are you from, Mr. Paul Sir?” A seven-year-old boy named Tim asked between mouthfuls of his sandwich.

  “Someone told me he's Sarah's brother.” Another young boy by the name of James said. A 8-year-old girl named Chloe laughed wildly at that.

  “Of course he isn't, he'd have to be big!” Chloe said.

  “I used to be big.” Paul said with an amused smile. A chorus of “Wow” and “Woah” met his ear.

  “That's so cool!” Tim exclaimed. “What's it like to be big?”

  “It's fun, you can go a lot of places and see a lot of things.” Paul said. With a tinge in his heart, he refrained from telling the kids that being big also meant no one owned you and you could go where you want, pursue the life you want, and be with the person you want, three things these kids would never experience themselves.

  “So you're a shrinker?” James asked. “That's that they're called, right?”

  “Yes, that's what they're called.” Paul confirmed.

  “Can you ever grow back?” Chloe asked.

  Paul sighed. “No,” He said. “I can never grow back.”

  “Some people do!” Tim said. “I've heard of growers before!”

  “Growers exist, but they're very rare and they're never people who have shrunk before.” Paul said. The odds of growing were less than one in ten thousand, but in a city like Gettysburg there were a few cases per year. Some of the stories were rather nice; Paul recalled a story about a companion who grew and married her former owner. A tiny track runner also once grew and ended up buying her old team, owning her former teammates and leading them to multiple gold metals. However, he recalled that she herself was barred from Big competition because the unfair advantage selective breeding as a small had given her.

  More often, though, the stories were sad. Tinies were just not accustomed to being their own master and a lot of them ended up committing suicide or even killing their former owners. There was also a stigma attached of being once tiny even if one was now big. It was extremely stupid in Paul's opinion and he hated that these things were so deeply ingrained. The best most Growers could hope for was to move to a new city and start a new life where nobody knew their past. It was sad.

  “Could I be a grower?” Asked Chloe.

  “Maybe,” Paul shrugged.

  “If I was a grower I would buy the whole academy and make every day ice cream day!” Chloe laughed, delightedly.

  “You have to promise I can still work here once you take over, okay?” Paul asked.

  “Promise!” Chloe said. Paul held out his hand and she gave him a high-five.

  Soon lunch was over and it was time for the children to return to their lessons. Paul was left to clean up the mess they made, which was a fairly easy process despite them being messy kids. Having already scrubbed the floors of the learning hall it was time for him to enter the breeders building.

  He remembered how nervous he was the first time he entered; he remembered Barney's warnings that no men were allowed in here except for Jules and himself, and it was not until the women—overwhelmed as they were with childcare and pregnancy—practically begged Jules to let him clean their rooms. Apparently larger facilities had dedicated custodians and the fact that they now had one was seen as a godsend.

  At first Jules was constantly breathing down his neck whenever he cleaned the facility, making frequent visits to ensure he wasn't causing trouble. However, with the event fast approaching, Jules found himself too busy to keep his eye on Paul. Barney however was a constant menacing presence, always making himself known whenever Paul was around. However, today was one of the rare days in which Barney was accompanying Sarah in her worldly adventures, so there was no one to harass him today. He wasn't the only one breathing a sigh of relief—apart from him, the mothers seemed to be the only people who didn't take to Barney very much.

  He knocked on the first apartment within the breeding building. Wild sounds of children playing came from beyond the door with a woman's voice telling them to settle down as Paul knocked. The door opened and Sandra—a 35-year-old retired model and mother of four who had very kind eyes—appeared.

  “Want me to clean?” Paul offered.

  “No, it's okay,” Sandra said, smiling but also looking a bit overwhelmed at the boundless energy of the kids behind her. “Can you come back tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” Paul said. Sandra thanked him and closed the door. Paul moved on to the next one which belonged to Bethany, the young mother and daughter to a shrinker. Compared to the cacophony behind Sandra's door there didn't seem to be any sound coming from Bethany's apartment. He knocked, and moment later he heard the sound of footsteps coming to the door.

“Hey,” Bethany said, smiling as she opened the door.

“Ready for me to clean?” Paul asked.

  “Come in,” Bethany invited him, moving aside so he could enter her apartment. He placed his cleaning supplies down on the table and looked around as the door closed behind him. He couldn't help but notice that her apartment was already very clean, and he'd be hard-pressed to do any better than she already had done.

  “I thought I'd cut you a break today and clean before you got here.” Bethany said, “You've been working hard and could use a little break. I made tea.”

  “Wow, thank you!” Paul said gratefully, deeply touched. He sat down as Bethany took the teapot off the burner. Apart from the kitchen and Barney's house, the breeding facility was the only place that has its own kitchens. Bethany poured them each a measure of tea in little cups. Though the water was thicker at this size the tea still tasted exactly the same.

  The two of them sat together sipping their tea in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the other side of the wall where Sandra had her hands full. Relaxing like this felt nice, Paul thought. Bethany's eyes met his and she smiled warmly.

  “Have you been doing all right?” She asked. It was such a crazy thing to hear someone honestly and truly concerned about his well-being. It reminded him of Hannah, or of Katelyn.

  “Things are getting better,” Paul said, but he couldn't disguise the fact that things still weren't that great.

  “That big oaf Barney still getting you down?” Bethany asked. Paul laughed and grimaced at the same time, not wanting to be reminded of him but still glad to hear someone put him down.

  “He's...manageable.” Paul said. “I'm glad to hear not everyone worships the ground he walks on.”

  “Yeah, as cool as he thinks he is he still goes head-first up Sarah's poop chute each night.” Bethany said. Paul, who had just taken a sip of his tea, almost choked on it.

  “Holy shit, really?” Paul asked, ready to burst out laughing.

  “I actually have no idea.” Bethany said. “I just made that up. But it would fit him, wouldn't it?”

  Paul laughed. “I guess so.” He looked around the apartment, realizing this level of quest was highly unusual. “Hey, where are the kids?”

  “They're next door at Sandra's playing with her kids.” Bethany said, her smile taking on a sly shape. “We mothers do that for each other to get the occasional piece and quiet.”

  Bethany got up from her chair and walked behind Paul, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Can I give you a shoulder rub?” She asked. He felt a temporary surge of panic knowing Barney would be more than a little irate if he walked in right now, but remembered that he was out for the day.

  “Uh, sure,” He said, forcing himself to relax. Bethany's surprisingly strong hands started digging into his shoulders. It felt so good that a small moan escaped from him before he could realize it. Bethany's touch and just her presence and breath behind him felt incredibly comforting.

  “Hey, I have some good news!” Bethany said, sounding excited. “My tests came back today. They were positive; I'm expecting!”

  “Congratulations!” Paul exclaimed. He twisted himself around in the chair to give Bethany a hug. Paul was still uncomfortable with the fact that Bethany had now been impregnated three times at such a young age, but he saw how kind of a mother he was to her children, plus she didn't have to keep trying with Shawn anymore.

  “Thanks.” Bethany said. “Being a mother is the joy of my life. It's going to be hard with three under-fives but at least I have my sister-moms to help me through.”

  Bethany had moved around so that she was now standing in front of him with her hands on his shoulders. He looked up at the girl with such a youthful face, and the hips that had already borne her two children. His eyes were level with two round breasts that had already been swollen with milk and would do so again. He felt so bad that she had got to go through that at such a young age.

  Bethany's hands traced down his arms to his own hands. “Here, come lay on my bed.” She said. “I want to rub your back.”

  Nervously Paul let Bethany help him up. Feeling somewhat excited he walked forward to her bed and with her hands guiding him he lay down on his front. “Arms up,” Bethany instructed. Paul listened and he felt Bethany's hands around his lower back, gripping his shift and pulling it up of his head, revealing his back to the cool air of her apartment.

  The feeling of Bethany's hands on his bare flesh as she started the massage was wonderful. It was at the same time very powerful and very gentle, almost loving, like something Katelyn would have done if the two had been the same size. She pulled herself up, sitting in a kneeling position on his lower back, her weight on him comforting.

  “It's such a terrible thing the way the others treat you.” Bethany said as she continued to massage. “Hating you just because you don't come from a long pedigree of models. I know the feeling; I was teased all though growing up for being a 'half-breed'.”

  “You don't look like a half-breed to me, whatever that means.” Paul said. Bethany chuckles lightly.

  “I appreciate that.” She said. “My siblings and I grew up as part of an in-tact family. That's almost unheard of for tinies, and I think it made a big difference. My father loved us all very dearly. It broke my world when he died.”

  Paul nodded into the sheet below him. “Yeah,” He said. “I thought my world was ending when my father died too.”

  “Both of our families were shattered by our father's deaths.” Bethany said. “Mine was shattered physically, as my mother wasn't allowed to keep us anymore. Yours—well, that's a little harder. You know that your mom owned me before Sarah, right?”

  “I do remember.” Paul said.

  “I actually lived in your house. We've been under the same roof before.” Bethany said. “Your mother kept us quite sequestered away. The only other person we saw was Sarah, who was apprenticing with her already. Then your mom gave all of us to Sarah when she turned 18 because of her political career.”

  “Yeah, the tiny rights thing.” Paul said. “What a joke that turned out to be.”

  “Can I say something, and please try not to be offended?” Bethany said, her hands stopping their motion. “Your family is cold. What your mother did to you was cold. How she treated us was cold, too. Sarah as well, but in a different sort of way.”

  Paul looked back at her. There were tears in her eyes, he slowly started to roll over to face Bethany, who perched herself on his upper legs.

  “This whole time I've been asking if I'm wrong for feeling this way.” Paul said. “If they're the ones doing the best they can for me and I'm just being ungrateful about it.”

  “Oh Paul, don't think that way. Never think that way.” Eyes full of empathy Bethany leaned forward wrapping her arms around Paul and holding him tight. The two of them sat there together rocking gently for several minutes.

  “Tell me about being big,” Bethany said, still clutching him. “I want to know.”

  Paul took a deep breath. He told her the things that he couldn't bring himself to tell the kids: “No one owns you. You can go where you want. Be with who you want. Live any kind of life you want.”

  “Oh Paul, I'm so sorry that it's all been taken away from you.” She said, rocking back and forth.

  “It wasn't a perfect life.” Paul said. “There were still responsibilities and pressures, especially as an MP's son.”

  Bethany pulled back a little but still held his face in her hands. “But you weren't owned by anyone.” She said “You're a man, and deserve to be treated like a man.”

  And to Paul's absolute shock Bethany leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. The kiss was warm, beautiful, and lasted several minutes. Neither wanted it to end, but finally they pulled apart.

  “You had a companion, didn't you?” Bethany said. “Tell me about her.”

  Head still spinning from the kiss, Paul let warm memories of Katelyn flow through his mind. “She was very kind.” Paul said. “Curious. Attentive. Loving. She always listened to me; she was always there for me. She was the sweetest person I ever knew, big or small. I was her whole world...and I didn't deserve her.”

  Paul's head dropped as he felt tears starting to come again, but Bethany pulled his face up. “Don't say that.” She said. “You both deserved each other. You're as sweet as you make her sound.”

  “You're just saying that,” Paul said, not believing her. But as if to dispute the point Bethany pulled him in for another kiss.

  “What was her name?” Bethany asked. A slight pang hit his heart as he remembered the conversation where he tried to learn Katelyn's real name. He never did, and now he never will. But at least the name he knew her by was the name that summed up all of their experiences together over eleven years.

  “Katelyn.” Paul said at last.

  “Katelyn....” Bethany said, her eyes drifting off for a moment before bringing them back to look into Paul's. “You know, I think I'm jealous of Katelyn.”

  “What? Why?” Paul said. “You know she's right where you are now: in a breeding facility somewhere.”

  “I know,” Bethany said. “But she got to be your companion. I think I would have liked that.”

  “You would have rather been a companion?” Paul asked.

  “Not a companion, your companion.” Bethany said, looking at him and giving time for the full meaning of the statement to sink in.

  “You would've...mine?” Paul asked, his eyes opening wide. Bethany smiled, running his hands along his chest.

  “Yes,” Bethany said. “Being a companion depends entirely on the person you belong to. If I would have been your companion, I would have had an owner who was compassionate, sensitive, and wonderful. Sure beats being boinked by different dudes your sister assigns to me.”

  Paul looked into her eyes. “Bethany...” He said, floored by her words.

  “What did you used to do with your companion?” Bethany's voice was low now. “When you were alone?” Paul continued not being able to speak. “Did you...touch her, Paul? Did she touch you?”

  It took a moment before he could finally speak. “Y-yeah,” Paul said. “We used to touch each other.”

  Bethany reached down to her middle and pulled her shirt up over her head. Now Bethany's two round, well-formed boobs were hanging right in front of her face, still with the gravity-defiant buoyancy of her youth, but with nipples that were well-gnawed by suckling babies. Still, they looked beautiful to Paul and he couldn't take his eyes away.

  “Can you touch me like you touched her?” Bethany asked. Paul thought back to a day that seemed so long ago, a day when Katelyn calmly stripped in his hand and laid back for him to press two fingers gently into her tiny, soft chest. Now, sitting here, Paul reached forward, cupping Bethany's breats in his hands.

  “Mmmmm.” Said Bethany. Paul couldn't believe how this felt. His experiences with Katelyn were limited by the size of her tiny body; this was heavenly, overwhelming.

  “Tell me,” Bethany said, eyes closed as Paul held her boobs in his hands. “Have you ever had sex with a woman your own size, Paul?”

  Paul's mouth almost fell open. Was this really happening? Here, in the early afternoon inside the breeding hall? His mind drifted back to that first evening he was small, and Katelyn had been on his lap just like this, propositioning him...

  “When I first shrunk...” Paul said, the memory flowing through him. “Katelyn was with me. We cuddled together on my giant bed—the first time we really could, and the last time we ever would. We were both really sad, because we knew it was the end of everything...then Katelyn came to life. She insisted that I...I breed her right then and there.”

  “Oooh,” Bethany said, happy grin on her face. “So you did, didn't you?”

  “Actually, we didn't.” Paul said. Bethany's face dropped somewhat.

  “Aww,” She said. “Why not?”

  Paul tried to remember. In the light of where he was now the reasons seemed so stupid. “It...it just didn't seem right somehow,” Paul said. “I can't explain. Like, maybe I thought that would be tainting our relationship, putting a strange coda on it.”

  Bethany looked puzzled. “I don't understand.” She said.

  Paul sighed. “I was an idiot.” He said. “An idiot who had just shrunk.”

  A smile started to creep back on Bethany's face. “If you could go back to that night and do it over, would you?”

  Paul hesitated for a long while. “I think so. Yes.” He said at last.

  The fire was re-igniting in Bethany's eyes. Smiling broadly, she leaned into him and said directly into his ear: “What did she say that night to win you over? Because I want to say those things to you right now.”

  Paul's heart was hammering, and he was sure Bethany could feel the thumping against her chest. “Are-are you sure?” Paul asked. “Is it safe?”

  Bethany laughed. “I'm already pregnant.” She said, rubbing her still-flat belly. “We can't mess that up. And if you're worried about Shawn, don't. There was nothing between us; it was just an assignment. He'll move on as fast as I have.”

  She leaned in and nibbled on his earlobe. “Tell me.” She said.

  Heart racing and fully erect cock poking against her from inside his pants he found his breath: “She said she wanted my first time to be with somebody who really cared about me. She wanted my first time to be a choice I would make, because I'd never get a chance to make the choice again.”

  “So,” Bethany breathed. “Is that all still true right now?”

  Paul looked at Bethany, felt her nubile young body in his hands. The planets were aligning; this beautiful young girl was here and this was happening, and it may never happen again, not here or anywhere. It may not have been Katelyn, and it would never be Hannah, but it was Bethany, a bright light of kindness in a dark sea of indifference and hate. He was the moth and she was the flame.

  “Yes,” Paul whispered.

  Bethany sat up, putting her thumbs in the seams of her pants and pulling down. Her bush slowly became visible, then her glistening pussy. Up on her knees still Bethany ran a hand down sensually over her moist lips. She moaned, bringing her wet hand up to slide across Paul's lips and nose, giving him a sample of her juices.

  Bethany then wiggled and shook her way out of her bottoms so she was entirely naked, then launched herself forward at Paul. She pushed him back onto the bed and they kissed furiously. Bethany's naked body against him drove Paul wild, and he wrapped his arms around Bethany. His hands searched for her supple ass and gave it a solid squeeze, eliciting a loud moan from Bethany.

  Her hands went south. Furiously fumbling they went to undo his pants, she sat up and yanked his pants down to his knees, too impatient to take them all the way off. She grabbed his cock and squeezed it in her warm hand. Paul moaned; the last time a hand was on his cock like this it had been Katelyn's.

  Bethany lowered herself down so that her mouth was hovering over his cock. She gave it a few licks as it throbbedi n her hand. She dragged herself forward, rubbing his cock against her tits and belly as she did so. Finally, she was straddling him, hands around his cock, aiming it for the target, and after a few brief moments she found it.

  Paul reacted with his whole body as he felt his cock slide into Bethany's pussy. She gasped and moaned too, squeezing him with her legs. She started to move her hips in motion, pumping back and forth against his cock. Paul began thrusting back against her awkwardly but energetically, his hands flailing around her thrusting body, finding purchase on her bouncing tits. They thrust and pushed, their breaths coming in great gasps as sweat appeared on their bodies. It was not graceful or neat but it was passionate, and Bethany let out a long low moan just as Paul felt himself cum deep into Bethany's cunt.

  A total mess, Paul lay back on the bed regaining his breath. When Bethany was up there riding him he saw her, but he also saw Katelyn, and Hannah as well. The past, present, and possible future that had been taken from him were all smashing together in his head. His worlds were colliding, reality itself was becoming fuzzy and fluid. He was at once big and small. Bethany was at once his wife, his companion, and a girl from the breeding house who was nice to him and made him clothes.

  But now it was all done. Bethany lay against him exhausted for all the effort she put in. She kissed him a couple more times in the chest, kneck, and face before she pulled herself up. Paul watched the naked girl walk around her apartment as she wet a towel and returned to clean up the mess.

  “Well, we've done it.” Bethany said, a look of triumph on her face. “We've said 'Fuck you' to everyone who said we couldn't; we had sex because we wanted to do it, because it was fun, and because we chose to.”

  “Fuck yeah we did!” Paul said. Bethany's rebelliousness was infectious, and he felt his ejaculation inside of Bethany was a shot across the eyes of his mother, his sister, Barney, all the snobbish models, and the whole of civilization that told them that they were property and they didn't have the right to do this.

  Bethany smiled, mopping the mix of cum and juices off of Paul's crotch and stomach. “You know, I've had sex with other men,” Bethany said. “But that was the first one I actually enjoyed. And you...that was your first time. And it was all your doing.”

  Paul sat up, feeling happy in the afterglow of the orgasm, but feeling a bit remorseful. “Katelyn...” Paul said without really thinking.

  He thought Brittany would get angry but instead she looked sympathetic. She flopped down next to him and put her arm around him, squeezing him.

  “Katelyn got everything from you but that one thing.” Brittany said. “She deserved that one thing, and if I could have, I would have let her have it instead of me.” Brittany kissed two of her fingers, rubbed her boob in a small circle, then extended them outward. “I dedicate this performance to you, Katelyn, wherever you are now. I've never met you but you've helped make one awesome man. From one bitch in a breeding house to another, here's to you, sister!”

  Paul felt a small tear come to his eye. “That...I really appreciate it, Bethany. Thank you.” Bethany smiled, then gave him another peck on the lips.

  After that Paul got up and pulled his pants the rest of the way on and put on his shirt. “We're not going to be able to do this again are we?” Paul said, looking over at still-naked Bethany regretfully.

  “I don't think so,” Bethany said. “The amount of things that had to happen to allow this time to happen was insane, not to mention factors beyond either of our control. But, if the planets align.”

  Paul gave Bethany another kiss. He drank in the sight of her naked body, stretched by two childbirths but still young and supple. He wanted to remember this. He wanted to remember this forever.

  He wanted to stay longer but knew he had been here too long already. There were other rooms and units that needed to be clean, and Bethany had to relieve poor Sandra from watching six kids on her own before she went insane. Bethany was delaying putting her clothes on though, hanging out naked next to Paul as he got his things together. Clearly she was finding it hard to move on.

  “Well,” Paul said. “Bye, Brittany. You are one of a kind. I'll never forget this.”

  “When we see each other again, we are just cohorts.” Bethany said. “Two tinies owned by the same woman here to do two different jobs.”

  “Of course,” Paul acknowledged, his happy face twinged with sorrow. He couldn't help it—he needed one more kiss. He leaned down and the two of them kissed, the heat radiating off Bethany's naked body. He reached forward and opened the door, Bethany standing on the other side where she couldn't be seen from the hallway.

  “Goodbye, love.” Bethany said.

  “Goodbye.” Paul said, and he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  He found it very hard to concentrate on his work the rest of the day as he kept reliving the amazing experience he just had. He also felt excessively paranoid around other people. She knows, he kept saying in his head as he cleaned other units in the breeding house.

  But by the end of the day when we was able to eat dinner in his usual corner by himself at the cafeteria he felt completely at ease with himself for the first time in years. He knew it wouldn't last, and he knew he'd go back to feeling miserable, but for one day, he was a king. He felt bigger than the biggest big. Even Barney's bullying didn't bother him as much as it usually did; the man returning when Sarah arrived home.

  He hoped that this high would last for a few days at least. He hoped that this would buoy him up while the house around him got more and more agitated anticipating the upcoming show. He hoped at least that this could be a memory that sustained him as he fought to achieve some form of normalcy as he worked his menial job.

  But, alas, everything was going to come crashing down on him once again, and sooner and harder than he ever would have thought.

“So you think it's funny to fuck a pregnant girl, do you?” Barney's angry voice came from behind Paul. Paul spun around on the U walkway so face the angriest looking Barney he had ever seen, shock and fear coursing through him.

  Two days. That's all it took. It was only two days after his encounter with Bethany—almost to the hour—and now Barney was here confronting Paul as he walked between cleaning one building and another.

  “What?” Paul said, guilt written all over his face as it was turning white.

  “Don't 'what' me, you know exactly what you did.” Barney said.

  “How did you find out?” Paul gasped, both shocked at the revelation and fearful of the physically imposing threat in front of him.

  “Doesn't matter how I did.” Barney spat. “You remember what I told you on your first day here, right?”

  “But...but...but she was already pregnant!” Paul sputtered. “She has the tests!”

  “Yeah? And now that pregnancy's going to be put into doubt because of what you did.” Barney spat. “Her ability to make babies it the only thing she's good for. Take that away from her and she's useless. You ever think of that?”

  There were so many things Paul could have said in response to that but he was just overwhelmed, and Barney continued. “Breeder girls only have sex with the men they're assigned. When they're pregnant they don't have sex, especially not with useless nobodies like you. What you've done is enough to get you executed in some places.”

  Paul was afraid but he was also very angry. He hated the way Barney talked down to him and talked down to Bethany. He hated how Barney stomped around the place and fucked model after model, yet threatened Paul for having just slept with one woman who was already pregnant anyway.

  “We didn't harm anyone!” Paul finally snapped back, angrily. “We did it because we wanted to, and that's enough for us.”

  Paul threw his head back and barked a derisive laugh. “That might have been the standard when you were big when there were any number of girls you could sleep with. But you know what? Sarah's told me about you. You never got laid when you were big anyway. That bitch Jen you always seemed to be with? You never got with her, and now you never will.”

  “Fuck you.” Paul spat. It had been a while since Jen's name had even crossed his mind and he frankly felt he dodged a bullet with her but Barney's taunting still enraged him.

  “No, you just stayed at home and played with your little Katelyn, who couldn't do anything about it.” Barney said.

  This was over the line for Paul. He took a step towards Barney, recklessly taking a step towards the much larger man. “You leave Katelyn out of this!” He shouted. Barney looked down at Paul, looking as cool and smug as ever.

  “Oh, I'd never talk ill of a girl we both knew so well,” Barney said, pretending to be oblivious to Paul's rage. “Man, I miss her. You know she used to sneak out of your room and into Sarah's before she moved out. She was dying to have sex with somebody her own size and I used to hit that all the time.”

  “What?” Paul shouted. “You're lying! I'm going to tell Sarah!”

  “Oh, Sarah already knows.” Barney said dismissively. “I used to fuck Katelyn right between Sarah's tits. Sarah loves to watch, and Katelyn loved to be watched. The more humiliated she was the more she liked it. Turns out your oh-so-sweet companion was nothing but a two-bit little cum slut.”

  Paul snapped; his right fist flew forward and he punched Barney with all his might. His fist connected with Barney's lip, busting it open. Barney staggered backward, momentarily stunned that Paul had actually thrown a punch. Paul followed it up with more punches, blindly striking against Barney in all his rage.

  But Barney was ready. He blocked Paul's punches and wound up to hit Paul with a haymaker. Paul's world split open with pain as he was knocked to the ground with the force of the punch. He tried to get back up but Barney struck him again, knocking him flat on his front. Barney kicked him in the side three, four, five times. Paul felt as though his ribs were going to burst, his face was throbbing, he just lay there as Barney pummeled him begging for it to be open.

  “I hope it was worth it!” Barney spat, standing up and pacing around the wounded and defeated Paul. Still seeing stars, Paul didn't look up. “You and you, get some string!”

  Apparently a crowd had formed around them as the fight was starting, and now Paul could hear them muttering in concerned tones. He was able to open his swollen eyes to see Barney standing over him, blood coming from his swollen lip as he stared furiously down at Paul with his fist still balled. One of the models tried to approach Barney to clean the blood off his lift but Barney pushed her away.

  A couple minutes later two men returned with some string that had been used to secure some product or another in the past. Barney took the string and lowered to tie Paul's hands together, pushing a knee painfully into Paul's back so he couldn't move. Paul tried to move his legs, desperately trying to kick Barney but it was no use; he felt feet as one of the men stood on his legs.

  Once Paul's hands were bound Barney moved to bind his feet. With multiple sets of hands holding him down there was nothing he could do as his body was bound, now lying immobilized on the ground. “Everyone stay back!” Barney commanded, and people did as he asked. “You're really in for it now.” Barney said. With one more glare at his defeated foe Barney turned away, marching down the U towards his house, a gaggle of models followed hoping to find out what happened.

  For a minute a few of the models stood around Paul staring down at him, but then he heard Jules' voice: “Let's go, we have work to do.” And slowly the rest of the models dispersed, leaving Paul alone and bound on the floor. His whole body was throbbing with pain; he was certain Barney had caused bruising and maybe even internal bleeding.

  He lay on the floor for what felt like a long time—no one came to check up on him or talk to him. Paul wondered where Bethany was—probably in the breeding house, unaware of what had happened. He hoped this would not get back to her as the last thing he wanted was to learn that she had been punished for her actions, or even sold. He had no idea how they had been caught—had one of the other mothers ratted them out? Had they been too loud? Too obvious?

  About half an hour later Paul heard the telltale sound of the huge door to the tinyroom opening and his blood ran cold—Sarah was here. Her shadow fell over him as she stepped up to the balcony. A moment later she picked him up and began carrying him out of the room, slamming the door behind her in what must have felt like an earthquake to all the tinies.

  Sarah sat down in a chair and opened her palm, exhaling angilly as she looked at her bound and injured brother. “What the hell are you doing?” Sarah demanded, reaching forward and pulling apart the ropes, untying Paul. “Seducing and raping one of the breeders, and then attacking Barney when he confronted you about it?”

  The now-untied Paul tried to turn and look at his sister but he was just hurting too much and far too scared—the tone she was using made him fear for his life.

  “I bring you into my home and let you live among my tinies,” Sarah said. “And this is what you do. Unbelievable. Just unbelievable, Paul. You're disgusting.” Paul wanted to argue, speak back to his sister, but he was just too weak to do so.

  “I'm obviously not letting you back with the others after that.” Sarah said. “I'm going to have to put you in isolation while I figure out what to do with you. Now, take off your clothes.”

  Paul looked up at Sarah in horror. He had only heard rumors about what it meant to be put in isolation and it didn't sound good. He needed his injuries looked after, he needed a friendly voice and a kind face, he didn't need this.

  Sarah huffed impetiently. “You don't know how close I am to putting my palms together and crushing you to pulp. Now, take off your clothes!”

  There was nothing else Paul could do. He shakily removed his shoes, pants, and shirt, now naked in his furious owner's hand. Sarah removed the clothes and started walking. She walked over to an antique cabinet that was likely pre-duality and opened a drawer. There was a little black box inside. Paul looked at it with horror, realizing that his box was going to be his prison.

  Sarah pulled off the top of the box. Inside the box was nothing, just a black lining. It was long and thin, meaning Paul could do nothing but lay down inside of it. Sarah lowered him down in, pushing him to lie flat on his back. She glared down at him for a few final moments.

  “You really have become quite the headache.” Sarah said. “Hopefully this will give you the chance to calm down and think about what you did. See you later.”

  And with that Sarah lowered the top down onto the box plunging Paul into complete darkness. He lay there for a second until the whole box shook as Sarah placed something heavy on top to ensure there was no way Paul could leave. There was a stomach-churning motion as Sarah closed the drawer and then...nothing. And it lasted a very long time.

Paul thought that his eyes may adjust and find a few tiny patches of light in his coffin, but no; it was too well sealed. There were no sighs, no sounds but his own breathing, and no sensation apart from the fabric beneath his backside. It was pure sensory deprivation, a horrifying prison from his body and mind where there was no escape.

  The box slowly started to heat up from Paul's body heat. He worried that he might sufficate, but there were unseen airholes that allowed circulation. The circulation was still not great and Paul found himself increasingly light-headed and woozy. There was just enough room to roll over, which he did now and then just to change positions.

  Time itself broke down as it had no meaning in this box where nothing ever changed. How long had it been, an hour, two? Maybe much shorter, perhaps he had only been in there for fifteen minutes. There was no way of telling. He got so frustrated he let out a shout and started punching the top of his prison. It did not budge an inch.

  It took a long time for Paul to calm himself down. There was no way out of here and he would only be wasting energy and hurting himself further if he continued to act out in this way. He had to think about something pleasant, something comforting that could calm him down and take his mind off things. Of course, in his own life Katelyn was the person who had provided that relief for him. Thinking about her no longer provoked a sharp tinge of pain but rather a more muted, dull ache. He missed her dearly, and he really needed her now.

  Paul tried to imagine that Katelyn was in his hand. It was very hard to do as he couldn't even see his hand. He tried placing two of his own fingers in the palm of his other hand and squeezed them, pretending those digits were Katelyn. But it was no use. He couldn't picture her there.

  Of course, Katelyn and he were the same size now so he tried to imagine her laying in the coffin along with him. He tried to recall how it felt cuddling next to her on his bed, but the memories were muddled and confused. He remembered her climbing onto his lap and pulling back her clothes to reveal her pussy at him, which then reminded him of Bethany. He tried to comfort himself with the memory of the beautiful, intense encounter they had two afternoons ago, but he couldn't help thinking about how that lead to him being here with several painful injuries, so it was hard to feel comforted by that.

  If only Paul had a big that was on his side, a protector. He knew Hannah was out there somewhere, probably still wondering what happened to him, maybe having already learned. Who knows, she might have already moved on to somebody else. But he still wanted to think that she cared for him, and if she knew what he was going through right now she would swoop in and rescue him.

  Paul imagined Hannah pulling the lid off the box and lifting him up, looking down at him with pity and sympathy. She would tend to his wounds, calmly and methodically, and then hold him in her hand, stroking him gently. Paul tried to remember what Hannah's hands looked like. It was hard to say—in his mind they just conjured up the image of generic female hands, and it was hard for him to fall into the illusion. After all, Hannah and he had never been physical, and the idea of her comforting him in this way was a complete abstraction that he couldn't really grasp.

  No, at the end, there was only Katelyn. Paul tried to imagine her as a big in a world where their roles were reversed, and he was the companion. Paul remembered what Katelyn's face looked like close up; he might have only seen it for a short time when they were the same size but it was a particularly sharp memory. He knew what it felt like to be held in Sarah's hands. He didn't want to focus on the hands, just the face. He thought about how Sarah's face had hung over him, huge and imposing, and tried to imagine Katelyn's face in that spot instead, looking down at him with the same sorrow and concern.

  And at once the walls of his prison became Katelyn's hands, and his mind projected her massive face into the darkness. She held him in hands so close together like a cocoon, comforting and warming him as she held him in a caring embrace. She spoke to him: Shhhh. It's all right. You're going to be all right. Katelyn's here; I'm here for you.

  The throbbing of his injuries lessened and he relaxed greatly as Katelyn held him in her hands. You don't have to worry about anything now, I've got you. Katelyn said. A smile rolled across his face. He was her companion now; she would take care of everything. Being a tiny was not so bad when this was the life he was leading...

  He didn't know how long he had slept or indeed whether he slept at all or just daydreamed. It seemed like hours. There were no sounds to indicate the time of day. The vision of Big-Katelyn was fading in his mind. He wanted her to stay—but the lack of stimuli in this prison caused his mind to wander and he couldn't control to where.

  He thought about things that made him angry, annoyed, or upset. He thought about his father's death, how angry he was at his mother for the way his childhood had gone after that, and lamented over how different it could have been if he was still alive. Sarah and Brie were happier then too—as children they would play and tussle with their father. But they had turned cold after that, particularly Sarah. Brie was much more anxious and neurotic. They had both dealt with the loss in different ways. But it was his mother that had turned into an ice fortress; her daughters found a way to co-exist with her but Paul had always felt like a spare, an afterthought. It was like the only thing she cared about was that Paul didn't embarrass her and by shrinking he had utterly failed in that.

  Paul thought about how he never really fit in with the boys at school. Most of the people he had been close to over his life were girls. He thought about childhood adventures with Hannah—the innocent play and fun that they had had. He remembered how they had ran all around Gettysburg playing various games and places to hide. He remembered the tiny they found together. But now it was Paul that was the tiny held in Hannah's young, curious hands, and it was him who was turned over to the authorities and handed back to Sarah.

  Sarah was now buying candy for Hannah in his mind, but Hannah had turned into Jen. Jen was all too happy to turn Paul in for a reward. She was all too happy to think of tinies as nothing but property, and her family didn't even have the fig leaf of pretending to care about their rights like his mom. Jen wanted to collect Paul as a husband in the same way she collected tinies. Jen was so persistent in acquiring Paul that everyone assumed they were a couple, or at least would become one when school ended, and the way their families were connected made her almost inescapable in his life.

  Paul tried to shift his mind off of Jen and back onto Katelyn, the one person whose memory brought him comfort, but he couldn't bring back Big-Katelyn in his mind. No; Jen reminded him of Brie, who would always tease him about her, and Brie reminded him of Sarah, who reminded him of Barney, whose words were seeping back into his mind. Before the intensity of his situation allowed them to drift out of his mind, but now they were coming back to haunt him like cold on a winter's night when the campfire had gone out.

  Now Katelyn was quite small in front of him; she looked weak and hurt, as if she had been crying. She was naked but not in an erotic way; it was as if she were now truly exposed for Paul to see. Though she was close he could not touch her; it was like an invisible barrier separated the two of them. Ashamed, Katelyn could not meet Paul's eye.

  Katelyn, please tell me what Barney said wasn't true. Paul pleaded. You never had sex with Barney, did you?

  Katelyn finally looked at him, her eyes red from crying. Please forgive me, I was so young and so naive. Katelyn said. I loved and cared for you dearly. But when you and your sisters were all together with your companions, Barney would always give me the eye. It felt so dangerous to keep such a secret, but it was so hot at the same time.

  No... breathed Paul in disbelief.

  You always treated me well and I liked when we would relax. Katelyn said. But you were young, clumsy yet gentle, unsure of yourself, and oh so big. You could play with me like a toy but never please me like a woman. Barney was older, experienced, strong, and so confident. I just had to know what it was like. I used to sneak over to Sarah's room every single night. She'd smirk whenever she'd see me—it was humiliating but turned me on like nothing else. She put me with Barney and never took her eyes off of us. She loved to watch; Barney was right. He would put me in all these positions you couldn't even imagine, Paul, and he wore those condoms he's always using with the models. He turned me inside out, and I love it, Paul, I loved it.

  Katelyn put her face in her hands and cried. The barrier between them prevented Paul from comforting her, but he was too repulsed to even try.

  I cried when Sarah moved and took Barney with him. Katelyn said. I should have been happy because I no longer had to hide anything from you, but I missed it Paul, oh god I missed it. You can't possibly understand how good it felt...

  Paul could feel his heart breaking all over again. But the night I shrunk you said you wanted me to be your first, not a random guy you were bread with! Paul said in desperation.

  No, I said I wanted to be your first. Katelyn said. You were always so fragile, and I thought by doing this last thing for you I could do something special to make you happy before the world would snap you like a twig. But I have to be honest, the main reason I wanted to do it was selfish. I thought that by having sex with you I could cleanse my own guilt for Barney. I thought that by taking from you what I allowed Barney to take from me would make me whole. I didn't deserve to take your virginity, Paul. I'm glad that Bethany was the one to do it.

  No, it should have been you. Paul insisted.

  Paul, I'm not as innocent as you think I am. Katelyn said. Just because I lived in your bedroom and didn't understand calculus doesn't mean I didn't understand the world. I knew far more than you did. I only wanted to protect you.

  I don't understand what you're saying! Paul wailed desperately.

  Of course you don't. You never will. Katelyn said, looking at him with sad—but strangely mature—eyes. He looked at her long and hard. He was ready to break down. All of this was just too much.

  What's going to happen to me? Paul asked in a small and meek voice.

  You're a tiny. Katelyn said simply. You'll do what your owner tells you to do. There's really no choice.

  But I want to be with you! Paul wailed, almost feeling like an infant calling out for his mother, or even the deeper idea of a mother rather than any physical person. Please! I don't care what you did with Barney, I forgive you!

  But Katelyn only shook her head, now looking strangely emotionless. That can't happen. Katelyn said simply.

  Please! Paul almost screamed. I want you to be big! I want you to take care of me! I need you to love me!

  But as Paul's pleas became ever more desperate the vision of Katelyn in front of him became less coherent and before long he couldn't distinguish her at all from the air around him. In fact the entire world outside of his prison seemed to dissolve into abstraction. The world inside too, for that matter. His whole body seemed like nothing but a concept; an idea supported by flimsy evidence. His thoughts were dissolving like ice into a hot drink.

  Now individual words and phrases battered Paul's mind like mad bats in a dark cave. He couldn't clasp onto a single one. He had been in this coffin for years, no, decades, and yet he still had an infinity of time ahead of him. He was never going to get out—there was no life after the box, and there had been no life before it. In fact, there was no box, as the box was the universe and he didn't exist.

  Sounds came to his ear—or did they? He could just be imagining them. He put his hands on the side of the box. The box was real, and so were his hands. At least something was real. The sweat on his body was real. The piss that had escaped him and mixed with his sweat was real too. He could smell it. He could feel it; he felt crusty, nasty. These were real sensations, fascinating sensations, and it was about all he had to hold onto.

  And yet his imprisonment continued, lasting for days and days. Maybe Sarah intended him to die this way. She would have been kinder to crush him under-foot because this was not death; it was an endless non-life. There was nothing that could change his world. Nothing that was, and nothing that will be, there was nothing, and he was nothing, and he was over but it was never over because it never began.

There were sounds much louder now and Paul knew they were real. If the sounds were real then maybe the box was real, and there was an inside and an outside to it. Lines and shapes were flooding across Paul's mind as the world started to reconstruct itself with an almost manic joy. Then a sensation of movement as the drawer slid open. And then there were great sounds as other things happened outside. And finally, beautiful and terrible light flooded Paul's eyes as the lid was removed.

  Paul lay there shuddering on Sarah's hand for several minutes not even aware of when she picked him up. All his sensations were re-calibrating themselves as he could look and hear again; and he lay there curled up as he took this all in.

  He looked up into he female face that belonged to the savior who pulled him out of his tomb. Katelyn? He asked himself. But no, it was Sarah; his savior had been his executioner, and she was looking at him with a look that combined disgust and pity.

  “Let's get you cleaned up.” Sarah said. She carried him to the bathroom where she turned on the tap. The cool water felt refreshing on his skin and helped center him back in this reality. Sarah put soap on her fingers and started rubbing Paul clean. In a different context this could have been quite an interesting experience but with Sarah it was just so impersonal and methodical, and he felt himself knocked about by his fingers.

  Sweat and piss now cleaned off of him, Sarah rinsed Paul and gave him a tiny towel to dry himself off. Sarah then handed him clothes instructing him to put them on. He recognized them as being from his smallhouse over in the tinyroom; Sarah must have retrieved them for him, or else had gotten Barney to do it. Looking around the bathroom he saw his other clothes laying in a small pile. What were they doing here? What could this mean?

  Paul looked up at Sarah, who let out a long, weary sigh before dropping the bomb: “I'm giving you to Brie.” Shock and confusion shot through Paul. Brie? What?

  “I'm...you're...what?” Paul asked.

  “I can't have you here.” Sarah said, a hint of a snarl in your tone. “You've caused so much trouble, but Brie's agreed to take you. Brie doesn't own any women, she only owns men and they're all athletes, so I don't think you're going to get in any more trouble.”

  “You're giving me...to Brie?” Paul gasped. As terrible as Sarah could be as an owner she was at least a known commodity. The only thing that came to mind when Paul thought of Brie was the chilling look of naked excitement when she saw him in the cage that first night.

  “You should be thankful for it, too.” Sarah said. “She'll be here in a few minutes. I'll get your cage.”

  Sarah left the bathroom giving Paul a small window of time to re-orient himself both in his surroundings and in the knowledge that his younger sister would be his new owner. There was plenty of light coming through the window, so Paul assumed an entire day had passed. This made the most sense to him, and now that he was out of his prison he began to realize that he was pretty hungry after a day of not eating.

  But Brie...Brie was going to own him. Brie had always been the hot to Sarah's cold; she was the feisty one, the unpredictable one. She and Paul had fought off and on as kids, always trying to get one over on each other. Sarah would make peace when she would care to, but usually ignored them, though if she did intervene she would invariably take Brie's side over Paul. He always felt helplessly outnumbered in a house with three women.

  But now it looked like Brie had gotten the final one over on him—she was now going to be his owner. Paul was trying to really understand what this meant when Sarah returned with a cage. Whether it was the same one he arrived in, he didn't know. Paul didn't need to be asked to get in; as soon as Sarah opened the door he entered on his own, sitting down in the center as Sarah tossed his clothes in.

  Sarah sighed as she closed and latched the door, looking almost relieved to be getting rid of him. “I want you to be good to Brie.” Sarah said. “Don't tease her or give her a hard time. She's a real saint for getting you out of my hair.”

  Paul didn't know what to say to this so he said nothing. It was only a minute later when a knocking sound rang out from the hallway. Sarah walked out to answer the door and a moment later Paul could hear Brie's voice as she greeted her older sister enthusiastically. They talked for a couple minutes before their footsteps got closer and then both of Paul's sisters came in sight, Brie letting out the tiniest high-pitched noise as she spotted Paul, looking at him as if he were a new puppy gifted to her at Christmas.

  “Now you're sure you want to take him?” Sarah asked.

  Brie waved her hand. “It's no problem at all. I can handle the little guy,” She said. Brie couldn't stop smiling and Paul found it very unnerving.

  “Well, his clothes are all in here, and that's about it,” Sarah said. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Nope!” Brie said. She walked forward and picked up the cage, Paul swinging slightly from the motion. “Everything seems fine!”

  “Well,” Sarah said. “Good luck with him. And I'll see you at mom's tomorrow night for dinner?”

  “Yep!” Brie said. She carried the cage out into the hallway with her as Sarah followed. Sarah opened the front door and Brie carried Paul out into the blinding light of the day. They said goodbye to each other and then Sarah closed the door behind her. Paul realized she never said goodbye to him.

  Brie lifted up the cage so she could look at Paul as she walked. “Wow, you really tried to fight Barney, didn't you?” She said with a little giggle. “Don't worry, I have a medic on my team, I'll have him look at your injuries. You're in good hands with me!”

  Brie carried Paul's cage next to her hip as he tried to enjoy the view around him. He didn't know when if ever he'd get a chance to be outside again. It was a truly beautiful day—the weather had warmed up considerably in the last couple of weeks and it was almost hot. It seemed to be mid-afternoon and school must have been nearly out. For a brief moment Paul entertained a fantasy where Hannah would be leaving school and recognize Brie, then realize what she was carrying and negotiate a price for him. But by now even such fantasies seemed completely unreal.

  Brie's house was not very far from Sarah's. It was a smaller house, and Brie had complained when Doris bought if for her. Doris had pointed out that Sarah actually had a full-time job when Brie didn't have one. Brie worked a couple days a week as a clerk at a nearby store, but she fashioned herself a soccer team owner and spent most of her time trying to put together and train an elite soccer team. She always said that once she won a few big tournaments she would pay her mom back for everything but as of yet the team had only had a few slivers of success.

  Brie opened the door to her house and stepped inside. To her left was a staircase leading up to her bedroom, and to her right was a room almost completely taken over with a tiny soccer pitch, complete with league-approved fake turf, sideboards, benches, and lights. Brie had clearly spent a tremendous amount of money on the facilities for her team—this was top-tier quality stuff—and it made Paul wonder how much Brie had spent on the team itself.

  Instead of stopping here or going upstairs Brie walked straight through a doorway with its door removed into a second, slightly smaller room. On one side of the room was a chair and a small table with a few knickknacks that Brie used in her normal life. But on the other side of the room and taking up most of the space was the living quarters of the team.

  This was not Sarah's professional, partitioned setup. This was a complete open plan that sprawled across most of the room. All the player's cots were lined up in a row near the left side of the room; the same cheap furniture found in Sarah's house was scattered around in a chaotic mess. They had tables and chairs and what looked like a per-fabricated kitchen. Along the right wall was a prefab open-air shower facility where all the showers were completely open in a long row. Behind them in a semi-concealed area there were toilets. There were shelves stacked with clothes, games, and other knickknacks, and a large television overlooked the whole area, though it was currently off. All of this was completely open and there were no secluded areas as far as Paul could see.

  Brie lowered the cage to the ground and only then could Paul see the team. The entire team was standing together in front of their living quarters, their eyes looking between their owner and their new arrival. They were all young and athletic—they seemed to be in the prime of their career—and every single one of them was male.

  Brie reached down and undid the latch on the cage, swinging the door open. “I would like you all to meet your newest housemate, my kid brother Paul!” Brie said with excitement. “Come on out, Paul, don't be shy!” She cooed.

  Paul stepped forward out of the cage and onto the floor. Brie's leg rose like a massive white pillar to his left side and the team stood right ahead of him. He counted eleven men in total, all of them extremely jacked. The youngest seemed to be about his age, the oldest no more than mid-20s. Apart from a couple that were around his height they were all significantly taller than him, and more than a couple looked like they could have taken Barney in a fight.

  Paul didn't know how he should great these people but before he could he was spooked by the sudden motion of Brie removing her shoes. To his surprise she casually kicked off her shoes right in front of the tinies' living quarters, her left shoe even bouncing forward and knocking a few pieces of fake furniture off position. The unmistakable odor of sweaty feet started to waft out.

  “Hey,” Said one of the tallest, beefiest men in the group. “Come on over here. We won't hurt ya.”

  Paul stepped tentatively over to the men who each introduced themselves in turn. They each gave Paul a terrifyingly strong handshake, and Paul—whose hand was still sore from throwing that punch yesterday—felt as though his hand were going to fall right off. At least this greeting was kinder than what he received at Sarah's.

  “Any special instructions for the runt, Boss?” Said the man who had introduced himself first as Kyle.

  “Just look him over and make sure he's not seriously hurt.” Brie said. “Other than that just get him settled in. I'll be back for evening exercises!”

  And with that Brie left the room, the floor shaking with each of her bouncing steps in her sock-clad feet. Now Paul was alone with eleven soccer players he just met.

  “I'm the captain of the Mashers,” Kyle said. “When Boss isn't here I'm in charge, you dig? Jeff here is our physician, and he'll take a look at you.”

  A leaner but still quite muscular man stepped forward. “Damn, dude!” Jeff laughed, looking at him. “You really got yourself into quite a scuffle. Let me guess. 'You should see the other guy'.”

  “Not likely,” One of the others said; others responded with a derisive chuckle.

  “Yeah, I got into a fight.” Paul said, seeing no need to hide from it, and thinking that such an aggressive action may gain him respect with these athletes.

  “By the looks of you I wouldn't advise doing that again.” Jeff said. Everyone laughed again, Paul felt himself turning read. “Come over here, let me take a look at you.”

  Jeff led Paul over to a nearby couch and sat him down. He called for one of the others to bring him his kit, and soon Jeff was cleaning up dried blood and putting bandages over certain spots. Most of the rest of the team had wandered off, but Kyle stuck around.

  “Well, it looks like nothing too serious.” Jeff said after a few minutes of work. “Just try not to reopen any of these cuts and you should be fine.”

  “Thanks,” Paul said, but Jeff waved him off with a dismissive gesture.

  “So, what good are you for anyway?” Jeff asked. Paul was slightly taken aback by the question, but he remembered that all tinies had to have a purpose, and as far as they knew, he didn't have one.

  “Uh...” Paul started.

  “He's going to be our manservant.” Kyle said, laughing. “That's what he used to do at Boss's sister's house of fags before he got himself kicked out.”

  “Red card for fighting, I see,” Jeff laughed. “Well, if you get that banged up fighting some faggot I wouldn't recommend starting anything here.”

  “I...was more of a janitor than a manservant.” Paul said. Kyle laughed.

  “Semantics; you were just the Op's bitch.” Kyle said, laughing. He reached out and ruffled Paul's hair roughly, and said: “Nah, you're all right, kid. Just know your place and don't ruffle any feathers and you'll do all right here.”

  Paul didn't know how to respond but just nodded. Jeff left them and Kyle walked slowly to the center of the room. Paul felt as though he wanted him to follow so he did. Kyle stopped in the middle and gestured around him.

  “You want a tour?” Kyle asked.

  “Uh, sure.” Paul said. Without moving, Kyle pointed to each area of the room.

  “Beds, kitchens, rec area, toilets, showers.” Kyle said. “There, tour over. Any questions?”

  “Um, where will I sleep?” Paul asked.

  “Second bed from the right is empty, that'll be yours.” Kyle said. “But don't go thinking you can lay down any time you like. We sleep together, we rise together; we're a team. You might not be a Masher but if you live here you play by our rules, and don't think you'll be getting any extra favors because of your past with Boss. She told us flat out that you're nothing but another dude here and you have to earn your keep just like everyone else.”

  “I see.” Paul said. His hopes of being treated any better than he was by the models were being dashed by the minute.

  “So during unstructured time like this you're free to do as you like.” Kyle said. “Just don't step on anyone's toes. If the chair you're sitting on turns out to be a Masher's favorite chair you'd better hop right off. Got it?” Paul nodded.

  “Now: bed, meals, practice, showers, and team building exercises are all communal, so don't skip any.” Kyle said. “We don't expect you to play but we expect you to earn your keep in other ways. You're going to be doing a lot of running around getting things for the team while we practice, and you're probably going to take over doing our laundry as well. If you can cook you're going to be making us a lot of meals, if you can't cook—well, you're going to learn.” Paul nodded. It certainly seemed like these guys wouldn't be cutting him any slack—he'd be working even harder here than he had been at Sarah's.

  “You better store your clothes in that cabinet there.” Kyle said, indicating the small cabinet behind his bed. “And don't go far—Boss will be back soon and it'll be time for our evening exercises.”

  Kyle walked off leaving Paul to carry his clothes from the open cage over to his new bed. It only took one trip, and these were the only possessions he had. Truthfully they weren't even possessions, he was the possession, these were just his accessories. The cabinet was small but even so he doubted he would ever have enough to fill it. The bed was a lot firmer than his old bed had been but at least it wasn't lumpy.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. The men were occupying themselves with various things around the room; some were working out while others were lounging, playing games, or chatting. There were even two men chilling on top of Brie's discarded shoe—Paul could smell it from here; he couldn't even imagine what it smelled like up close.

  Paul still hadn't eaten all day and he was feeling very hungry. However Kyle had said that meals were communal and Paul didn't dare raid the kitchen on his own. He didn't see anyone else snacking and he wasn't about to ask. Instead he was just happy to be neither locked in a box nor carried around for a moment, so he just sat there on the edge of his bed.

  A few minutes later there was a rumbling as Brie came down the stairs on the other side of the wall. She re-emerged into the tinyroom wearing tall brightly-colored socks, shorts, and a sweater. Paul noticed something at the top of one of her socks: it was Peter—Brie's companion—hitching a ride. He pulled himself out and dropped down as Brie stood in front of them.

“You guys ready for evening exercises?” Brie asked. All the men started hooting and hollering, running to grab any needed clothing items and putting them on quickly as they congregated around Brie's feet. Warily Paul made his way as well; he didn't have any athletic clothes himself—just the casual wear he picked up at Sarah's—but he still joined them.

  “Thirteen, that's everybody!” Brie said with a smile. Paul and Peter were counted among that number, and Peter looked just as much out of place as Paul. Peter was by far the shortest of the group and he was even scrawnier than Paul. Just as with Barney, Paul had known about Peter for years; he was ubiquitous wherever Brie went and almost never left her side. Paul remembered Brie's school days when she would get in trouble for sneaking Peter into the school, and more than once Doris had to remind Brie that there were no companions allowed at the dinner table.

  “Follow me, Mashers!” Brie commanded, and walked into the living room. While it only took a few steps for her it was a good walk for all the others. Lining up in two rows the team jogged in formation across the floor, chanting “Mash-ERS, Mash-ERS” with each step. Even Peter joined in on this so Paul did too as to not be singled out.

  They marched through the doorway and onto the expensive and well-maintained practice pitch. Kyle, who was leading the group, held up his hand to halt the team when they reached the middle of the pitch. The came to a halt with a resounding “HUAH!”, turning ninety degrees to the right to face Brie.

  Brie clapped her hands appreciatively and gave a little giggle. “Very good!” Brie said. She got down on the floor facing her team, chin resting on her hands. Her eyes were like another pair of spotlights lighting up the pitch. “Now line up for your stretches.”

  As the team spread out several of them started laughing at Paul. “Joining the team, worm?” One of them asked. Paul was confused until he realized that Peter had broken off from the team and was now standing by the sidelines preparing water bottles and towels for the players. To Paul's embarrassment he realized he should have peeled off with him and not tried to follow the team of muscle-bound men to their exercises.

  Paul tried to leave but Brie said: “No, you can stay, Paul, let's see what you've got!” More jeers and laughs followed with Brie's encouragement. Humiliated, Paul stayed. The group of them got down on their hands and knees and started doing push-ups, chanting the numbers as they went along. Paul knew how to do a push-up but he couldn't keep up with the pace the group was setting. They switched to crunches and a few other exercises, but Paul quickly became gassed. While he played baseball casually in school Paul was by no means an athlete, let alone one who could keep pace with these men who had literally been bred for sports.

  “Come on Paul, you can do it!” Brie mocked him as he fell further and further behind the group. The teammates laughed and made mocking noises as sweat pooled on Paul's brow. Paul couldn't decide if the most humiliating thing was the fact that the other men weren't even breaking a sweat or Brie's laughing face hanging over him.

  “All right, good!” Brie said. The eleven teammates hopped up almost immediately, a chorus of jeers and derisive laughing rang out as Paul struggled to his feet. “That's all right, you tried your best.” Brie said in a falsely sympathetic voice, eliciting more laughter. “Go over with Peter, maybe you can join the team next year.”

  Out of breath, sweating, and feeling like dirt Paul walked across the pitch to where Peter was standing. Peter looked at him with a smarmy, self-satisfied look. “Really, you were thinking about joining the military?”

  Paul was too winded to make any kind of retort towards the scrawny man. On the pitch the team started their drills while Peter set up. “Get ready to give them towels,” Peter instructed him. Very close to them was Brie's elbow—she was propping herself up and watching the men practice with a big smile on her face. It was clear she enjoyed the movements of their muscular, athletic bodies, and it gave Paul no small amount of discomfort to realize Brie's cleavage was on full display to the players and she knew it.

  Soon the players came over to get water and towels. More insults were thrown Paul's way. Then it was time to take out the balls; they were stored in a small bin at the side of pitch. “Get ready to run,” Peter said with a little grin. Paul didn't know what he meant but would soon find out.

  Once in a while as the players were practicing the balls would be kicked out of bounds and Peter and Paul were expected to go get them. On the far side of the room the wall was close by so the balls usually just bounced back, but there was plenty of room on the near side for the balls to bounce well out of playing range. If a ball bounced towards Brie she might give it a little flick with the side of her pinkie to send it back into the playing range, but usually Pete or Paul was expected to chase it.

  Paul found himself getting exahusted fairly quickly and he wondered how Peter handled this on his own all this time before Paul arrived. Eventually Peter settled on Brie's left side and Paul on her right, and Paul couldn't help but notice far more balls were bouncing out of bounds on his side of the pitch. They seemed to be deliberately trying to make Paul run, and Brie didn't take any measure to put a stop to this even though these intentional misses were undoubtedly detracting from their practicing.

  One ball actually bounced off of Brie's arm and came to a stop almost directly under Brie's chin. He thought for sure she was going to bat it back but instead she just looked over at Paul and said: “Aren't you going to get that?”

  Horrified, Paul noticed the ball was only inches away from Brie's cleavage. Her shirt hung open and her tits hung there, extended from her body somewhat by gravity. They were round and soft and mammoth, and they belonged to his sister. Paul reluctantly made his way over there, knowing Brie was only doing this to utterly humiliate him. In the shadow of her body Paul could feel the heat coming from her chest—with her shirt open it was almost like the entry to a warm cave. But he grabbed the ball and ran back to the field, chucking it to the players.

  The practice seemed to go on and on and the men showed no sign of stopping, though at least now they were working up quite a sweat. Paul's empty stomach was groaning and his legs were howling at him, but still they continued to practice. After a good while Brie finally called for the group to take it in, and Paul followed Peter's lead and joined them.

  Brie looked down at the group of sweaty men with an excited face that Paul never wanted to see on his sister's face again. “Excellent practice, you guys! Great job with the balls, Paul.” Laughter and derisive noise followed; one of them clapped him on the back so hard with his meaty hand that Paul's knees almost buckled.

  “What do you think about a protein shake?” Brie asked. The athletes cheered in approval, and Brie got up to walk past the tinyroom and into the kitchen on the other side. There were sounds of a blender running as the athletes made jokes and shoved each other a little. A few minutes later Brie re-emerged with a glass of a chunky, brownish liquid. Brie took a big swig herself before casually placing the glass on the floor and knocking it over so the shake spilled out onto the floor ahead of them.

  The men all pounced on the chunky drink like pigs at a trough causing Brie to laugh. Paul didn't want to join in; this was undignified, even after all he head been through, but he was very hungry and didn't want to be the only one left out. He knelt down and cupped a portion of the shake in his hand. It was so thick that it didn't run through his fingers. He half-drank half-chewed the shake—it didn't taste that bad, and to Paul's stomach it was the elixir of life.

  The other men were acting like animals slamming handfulls of the shake into their face while shoving each other, completely messing up their clothes. This animalistic feeding and roughhousing was definitely amusing Brie; and Paul had no doubt they were doing this as a show to her. On the other side of the puddle of shake two of the athletes had grabbed a third and tossed him directly into the puddle. Everyone laughed at him as he lay there covered in liquid.

  Brie wasn't mad. Instead she reached out her hand and using her thumb and forefinger she picked the shake-soaked athlete off the ground. She held him high up over her mouth, everyone below starting to make a rising “Ooooo” sound. Brie opened her mouth and the rest of the men let out a resounding cheer as he disappeared between her lips and she closed her mouth.

  Paul was horrified to see an entire man disappear into his sister's mouth, especially knowing that man could easily be him. Paul's eyes were fixed on Brie's cheeks as she swished him around. After a full thirty seconds of licking and sucking on him she opened her mouth and pulled him out, now covered in saliva and the remains of the shake. His teammates gave him a good cheer when she placed them down.

  The men continued playing with their food, throwing it at each other and smashing it into their own faces. Brie kept giggling, but eventually she said: “Okay, I think you've eaten enough. Everyone line up in a line.”

  The goop-covered players lined up in a row; Paul joining on the end after a few threatening looks. Brie removed the overturned cup of protein shake and picked up most of the spilled shake with the single swipe of a rag that was lying nearby. Brie laid down on her front on the floor, her face so close to her players that Paul could see their hair ripple from her breath. Then, she opened her mouth and licked the player on the far left up his body, her huge tongue covering him from legs up to his head.

  Brie did this in turn for each athlete; she gave each of them one great lick across their smoothie-soaked bodies. Her tongue was almost as big as each man if not a bit bigger, and many men struggled not to be picked up by Brie's tongue and into her mouth. This must have been some kind of game or ritual, Paul figured; they acted as though this was utterly routine. Often times Brie's tongue would life a player off his feet temporarily and he would fall, eliciting laughs and jeers coming from the rest.

  Paul stood there in silent dread as Brie's face came ever closer to him. He could feel her hot breath on his body already and could see all the features of her enormous tongue. She licked the player next to him, and then she was looking right at him. There was a twinkle of smug joy in her huge eyes—she knew she had her brother right where she wanted him. Was she really going to lick him? Would she pull him into her mouth like that other player? For several tense seconds she made him wait.

  Then Brie giggled, the loud noise almost causing Paul to jump. “Shower time!” She announced suddenly. “Give all your dirty clothes to Paul!”

  Paul's relief at not being eaten was quickly replaced by the horror of a dozen large, muscle-bound athletes taking off all their clothes right next to them. He tried very hard not to look at any of them, but soon they were approaching him in turn, thrusting their filthy clothes onto him. They were thick with sweat, protein shake, and gallons upon gallons of Brie's saliva. It was a revolting mixture and by the time they had all given him their clothes the stack was quite heavy as well.

  As the athletes headed towards the shower Paul headed towards the laundry area, relieved that at least he didn't have to be around a dozen huge, naked male athletes. His arms ached under the heavy pile and so much of Brie's saliva was running onto him from the clothes that she might as well have licked him. But as soon as he put down the pile of clothes his sister spoke up again.

  “Oh Paul, you're not skipping out on a shower, are you?” Brie said in a falsely sweet voice. A chill of dread ran through his spine as more jeers floated over from the athletes. He remembered what Kyle said about showers being communal, and knew that hell would likely await him if he tried to skip it. So though every fiber of his being made him want to do anything but this; Paul pulled off all this clothes and added them to the pile before nakedly sprinting over to join the other men.

  The hissing showerheads were close enough together that the men stood shoulder-to shoulder. They left Paul an open spot right in the middle and as soon as he got close he was pulled in and pushed into place. A body wash-shampoo was being passed around so Paul took his share, suds now running down everyone's bodies. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Brie watching with great excitement; obviously she was greatly aroused by the soapy, wet muscular men showering in front of her.

  There was some horseplay even here, with guys shoving each other and making jokes. The athlete on Paul's left was pushed into him by someone on his other side, causing Paul to tumble into the athlete on his right. Paul scrambled to pick himself up and get him back into line while the others laughed.

  “Turn!” Came Brie's voice from above. With almost military precision the athletes turned around to face outwards, washing their backsides with their fronts exposed. Now they were all face-to-face with their dicks exposed to Brie, who was looking at them with a look Paul never wanted to see on his sister's face: that of pure, naked arousal. To his horror Paul knew that his own tiny, naked body was now fully in his sister's view as well.

  Soon the shower was over and Brie hit the switch that caused the heads to stop spouting water. Her other hand was on top of her crotch playing with herself through her shorts. It was obvious she was barely able to contain herself and showed no need to be modest or downplay her arousal in front of her players.

  “Line up!” She commanded, “It's time to pick today's MVP!” The athletes stepped forward and turned slightly so that they were directly in front of Brie, who inspected them all thoroughly. For once, the players were quiet and not laughing or horsing around. Paul was highly uncomfortable and each second seemed like an eon as he waited for it to be over.

  “You!” Brie said, reaching forward and plucking one of the players off of the ground to a chorus of disappointed sounds from the others which soon turned into whoops and cheers for their friend. Brie looked at the hapless little prize in her hand with that same horrible hungry, aroused look. There was little doubt what he was in for.

  Brie straightened herself up and delivered her final message for the evening from her terrible full height: “Now rest up because tomorrow is game day! We've got to beat the Lancers! If you can help me wipe that smug grin off Tomi's face you'll be greatly rewarded!”

  A cheer went up from the team and they soon began chanting their name: “Mash-ERS! Mash-ERS!” They pumped their fist in the air as they looked skyward towards their owner. Brie held up her player-free hand in a fist in acknowledgment and they all cheered before Brie walked off. Peter had jumped onto Brie's shoe at some point in the last minute and was holding onto the shoestrings as she walked. The floor creaked under Brie's weight as she walked upstairs to enjoy her prize.

  Now the players were free to relax and enjoy their evening. They filed off towards the bed area to put on pajamas and Paul followed, grateful that neither he nor the others were naked. Once the other players were dressed they began to relax and entertain themselves in various ways. Paul felt relieved that he was about to get a break, but then remembered the huge stack of filthy clothes he had to wash.

  Washing the clothes turned out to be a huge hassle. The chunks of protein mix soaked in Brie's saliva had to be removed by hand and before long Paul found himself becoming filthy all over again. After what seemed like hours he was finally able to get the clothes into a state where he could throw them in the machine and be reasonably sure it wouldn't get clogged.

  Paul thought he might get a break then but several of the guys were now loudly asking about dinner. Paul was drafted into the preparations and he was quickly tasked with doing the majority of the work to feed eleven large, hungry men. At least the food was pretty good and he was allowed to eat as well when it was finished, though much like at Sarah's none of the athletes wanted Paul to sit with them. He was barely done eating when the players all piled their dishes up in front of him and he had to take them to the dishwasher.

  Paul quickly ran to move the clothes from the washer to the dryer before running back to do the dishes. At least the dryer was big enough to do the clothes in one load. He finished the dishes in time to remove the clothes from the dryer and fold and hang them for the players. He didn't know what belonged to whom, but one by one they came up and started taking their clothes from him, so at least for now it didn't seem to matter.

  It was quite late and players were turning in to sleep. One of them activated a switch which turned off the large overhead lights, leaving only a few small lights near the beds to see by. Still smelling of spit and sweat but too tired to care, Paul collapsed on his bed. Despite the traumas of the last couple days he had little doubt that he'd go to sleep very quickly—he was just that exhausted.

  Paul lay there in his new bed, flashes of Sarah, Barney, Brie, Katelyn, Bethany, and Hannah flashing through his mind. It was just too much and too overwhelming to think about it all; and perhaps the one silver lining in living at Brie's is that he would just be too exhausted from all the physical activity to think about them much anymore. Still, he hoped that not every day would be as grueling as this one or he might not make it. Some soldier he would have turned out to be.

  But finally, to the snores of the athletes next to him, Paul fell asleep and the night would pass dreamlessly into the next day.

The day's activities would begin soon after waking for Paul. Barely was he out of bed when the athletes were harassing him to make breakfast. Paul cooked while they did their morning stretches, and they greedily ate everything he made and immediately asked for seconds, causing Paul to spend nearly an hour cooking. He was starting to wonder how they got by before he got here, though he suspected they could do all of these things without him but merely liked pushing him around.

  Shortly after breakfast Brie emerged wearing her customary shorts and long socks, returning the “lucky” player she had plucked from the ground the previous night to his team, still naked. As he rushed to get dressed and join his teammates, Brie began hyping them up for the day's game. Apparently, Brie had quite a rivalry with this Tomi, and she had quite a lot of pride riding on this game's outcome. She threatened punishment if the team lost but promised great rewards if they were victorious. The team, for their part, seemed fully behind their owner getting one over on their rival.

  After that came morning drills and once again Paul found himself running around chasing after wayward balls. His legs were already burning and he hated to consider how tired he'd be after the game. He had never been to a Tiny soccer game and never had any intention of going—that was always Brie's thing, not his. He knew it was a fairly big deal and that plenty of people watched the leagues; maybe—though this was a dim hope—Hannah would be at the game and recognize Paul, which would lead to her swooping in to rescue Paul from his sister's clutches.

  It was not to be, however. When morning drills had finished and the players were cooling down and drinking some water, Brie walked into the next room and came back with the very same cage she had used to transport Paul the day before.

  “Sorry Paul, but there's not really a use for you in the game and I doubt mom would want you seen out in public anyway,” Brie said. “And I can't have you free to roam around on your own, so you've got to be locked in this cage until I get back.”

  Paul felt his heart drop a little but also feel a tinge of relief: he didn't think there was much of a chance of Hannah or anyone else discovering him at the game and doing something to change his situation, plus by staying here he'd be able to have a much-needed break.

  “Grab a book or something,” Brie suggested half-heartedly as the team made jeering and mocking remarks. Paul grabbed a couple books from the floor at random and walked into the cage. Brie swung the door shut behind him making a loud banging sound as the door slid into place. The team laughed at him from behind the bars.

  Brie then left again and returned with the team's carrying case. This one was much larger and actually had opaque walls. It was about the size of a suitcase and it was decorated with the Mashers' logo in a way that made it look like Brie had done it herself. She swung open the door—inside were two rows of comfortable-looking seats with seat belts to keep the players from getting knocked around and injuring themselves.

  “All right, let's go, my Mashers!” Brie said excitedly as the team entered the case, whooping and cheering. Paul watched as they buckled themselves in place, Peter among them. When they were all in place Brie swung the door shut and once she slid her sock-clad feet into sneakers she picked up the case filled with all her precious belonging and marched to the door. Paul noticed that her sweater was also done up in the Mashers' colors.

  “Be good, Paul!” Brie threw a laughing grin at her tiny, caged brother before opening the door and leaving the house, leaving Paul utterly alone.

  While it was unfortunate he couldn't leave the cage, at least it was quiet and peaceful without the aggressive athletes or his titanic sister around. Paul spent some time just calmly looking around at the scenery of Brie's tinyroom before attempting to read a little bit finding himself a bit too tired. He put down the book and decided he would doze off a little; get some sleep now because who knows how much he'd be able to get later on.

  After a stretch of time that felt way too short Paul hear the sounds of the door opening as his sister returned. He could only see her giant feet stepping towards him from inside the cage. Once inside the tinyroom Brie kicked off her shoes, and just by watching the way her legs moved Paul could tell she was agitated. She then dropped the team's travel case onto the ground and the look on the players' faces revealed the outcome of the game.

  Brie reached down and opened the front door of the cage. “Everyone out! Line up!” Brie ordered curtly. The team morosely made their way out of the cage and into a line formation facing her. “Clothes off!” She barked. The team then undressed rapidly; once naked each player resumed looking up at Brie. She knelt down in front of them.

  “Turn around.” She commanded, softer this time. “Bend over.” Now eleven bare asses were facing Brie, who smirked. From where Paul was sitting he could see the trepidation on their faces. Brie placed her index finger and thumb together, then let it fly, smacking one of the players hard in the butt. He gave a little yelp and fell forward but quickly resumed his place in the line.

  “Lose to the Lashers, will you?” Brie said, flicking her little men in the ass in random order, each man scrambling to resume his position after her spank inevitably sent them tumbling with the force. “Make me look like a fool to Tomi, did you?” Brie continued her punishment. “You allowed five goals. Five! I ought to stomp the whole lot of you!”

  Brie continued the spanking, hitting every player at least once but clearly targeting some more than others. One player in particular must have been hit about ten times and looked close to breaking down. Finally, Brie was satisfied.

  “Stand up. Turn around.” Brie said. The men turned around to face their owner and Paul had to stifle a laugh at how red their backsides were. They looked up at her as she glowered down at them, but a smile slowly came to her face.

  “Maybe there's something you can do to make this up to me.” Brie said. “Stay right there.” Brie left and walked into the other room. Creaks of her feet on the staircase could be heard and a minute later she re-emerged holding a few items in her hand including a large jar of nail polish.

  “You guys are going to paint my toes.” Brie said. She reached down and pulled off her socks—even from where Paul was he could smell her foot odor. To his horror, she then reached over and opened up his cage.

  “You take part in team-building exercises, remember?” Brie smirked. Reluctantly Paul walked forward to join the large, muscular team. When one of the players quipped what are you wearing clothes for? And a few others gave him dirty looks, Paul reluctantly stripped down.

  Brie sat down in front of them and opened the jar of paint. Her feet were the size of busses and she had a large number of tiny brushes—everybody got one. They pushed and jostled each other over what toe they wanted to paint, and Paul was pushed in front of her left big toe, which was every bit as big as the canvases he used to give to Katelyn to paint on. Next to him in front of her right big toe was the well-abused player from before.

  Brie watched in satisfaction as the muscle-bound athletes slaved over her toes, the sweaty, sweet smell of her feet overpowering. The players shot comments at each other and jostled each other a bit but not enough to mess up the paint job and incur more wrath out of Brie. Paul couldn't believe he was being forced to do this, but just concentrated on finishing the toenail as fast as she could.

  “Everyone step back!” Brie commanded when she deemed that they were finished. All the tiny men obediently backed up and Brie looked down at her toes. “Not bad for a bunch of losers,” She said with a little laugh. “I guess no one's going to end up as toe-jam just yet, but don't get too comfortable. There's no MVP tonight. Come, my sweet Peter.”

  Brie bent down and extended her index finger to the ground. Wearing the biggest shit-eating grin Paul had ever seen Peter walked up to her finger and wrapped himself around it, Brie lifting her companion in the air and marching out of the room.

  After Brie left all the players scrambled to get dressed, but quickly their frustrations boiled over. Something more than a shoving match but less than an all-out brawl broke out, with plenty of cries of “faggot” and “pussy” being thrown around. The abused player ended up receiving several stiff kicks and punches. Paul was fortunate to escape with only a few shoves being directed his way.

  “You're the shittiest Center in Gettysburg,” A player said. “Even Brie's pussy brother could play better than you. The only reason Brie doesn't sell you is she can't get anything for your worthless ass!”

  Paul quickly realized that this was the Center Brie was desperate to replace. Several players added additional insults which the Center took without responding, and after everyone had said their bit he was allowed to limp back to the beds to rest off his injuries.

  “That was a pretty bad one,” Kyle, the Captain, remarked to him when all the players started to disperse around their area. “Boss almost always stays around to watch us shower even when we lose.”

  “I'm...sorry,” Paul said, not sure what to think. Kyle waved off his apology.

  “If you want to endear yourself to the boys you'd better start on dinner now.” Kyle said. “They tend to get irate when they're hungry.”

  Paul nodded and did as Kyle asked. Thankfully, the players had all calmed down and were returning to their normal, rambunctious selves. After dinner they started to play games in groups, and while Paul was not invited to join them he was at least permitted to go to his bed in peace after he was done cleaning up after them.

The next day what soon became a familiar routine repeated itself. Paul made the team breakfast before fetching wayward balls during morning drills. He got a brief break in the afternoon before evening drills and then making dinner. Showering with them was still the worst part of the day, but at least he wasn't harassed very much. In truth, the team appreciated having someone to cook and clean for them and their attitude towards Paul began to warm.

  He soon learned everyone's names and a few things about them. Only two of the players made their debut with the Trashers—almost everyone had been with three, four, or more teams in the past. Apparently being owned by Brie was quite different than being owned by another team owner; most owners had a more-or-less professional relationship with their players, but there was absolutely nothing stopping Brie from using her teammates the way she did—she owned them, after all.

  One of the players even sympathized with Paul's plight—his mother had been a shrinker as well. She had been a star athlete in high school before the shrank, competing against Paul's old high school around the time his mother was attending. Once she shrank she tried to break into the world of tiny sports but didn't accomplish very much given the advantage the well-bred Tiny athletes had.

  “But she was still good enough to breed, wasn't she?” Another player said mockingly, earning him a shove from the shrinkee's son.

  About twice a week there were games. Each night and morning before a game the atmosphere around the house got much more intense and focus. Paul never went to a game; he always stayed behind in his cage in stretches of time he came to relish. They lost the next two games as well and although they were punished like before Brie forgave them a lot more easily than before.

  Paul didn't quite know which of the two sisters was a worse owner to have. Sarah had completely ignored Paul, but he at least had found some level of peace with his janitorial position rather than the hectic team assistant he now was. On the other hand, the teammates treated him better than the models had done, but still Sarah never took pleasure in humiliating him like Brie did.

  In all Paul figured that this was a bit more tolerable than Sarah's. He did miss the tenderness of a female face now and then, but the atmosphere was a lot less oppressive. He didn't have someone like Barney with a vendetta against him—the scrawny, quiet Peter by comparison didn't even talk to him.

  Speaking of Peter, Paul quickly learned that he was despised among the team but they couldn't lay a finger on him because of his status as Brie's companion. Condescending, obnoxious, and always weaseling his way out of doing any work, Peter enjoyed the perks of his privledged position. Paul could tell he got a real kick out of pushing around guys twice his size with no consequences.

  Fortunitely Peter was much more interested in tormenting the players than he was Paul, and the players seemed willing to tolerate Paul as long as he continued to be their servant. Paul had no independent life of his own and expected he never would again, but he concentrated on just moving forward one day at a time and living for the brief hours during games that he got to be alone in his cage.

  It was at the end of one of these times of peace that he experienced an event that would change the nature of his life here. Paul was woken from a much-needed nap by the sound of a door closing and his sister's giant feet walking across the floor in her sneakers. There was an immediate difference in the way Brie was holding herself from all the other times, and it was not hard to figure out why.

  Grinning ear-to-ear with glee Brie put down the case containing her team and opened the front. The players ran out whooping and hollering, giving each other high fives and running around joyfully. Brie kicked off her sneakers before opening the door to Paul's cage. Warily, Paul walked to join the celebrating Thrashers.

  “We've won a great victory today!” Brie exclaimed with glee, rising a cheer from the group. “We showed them all what the Thrashers are made of, and they'll never underestimate us again!” As they celebrated Paul received a hearty slap on the back which almost knocked him over.

  “I'm going to cook as a victory dinner!” Brie said. “And then after...we'll see!”

  More whooping and cheering from the team before Brie head off into the kitchen. The team continued noisily celebrating after she left and Paul felt his knees might buckle from all the claps on the back he was receiving. Paul noticed that between recounting the game and the playful horseplay the sweaty teammates were undressing themselves.

  Soon the smell of steak was wafting in from the kitchen and the entire team was naked, including Patrick. “Take your clothes off, faggot!” One of them yelled at Paul. “We have to make the heart!”

  The last thing Paul wanted to do was undress. The only thing worse than being naked in front of the team was being naked in front of his giant, horny sister. But he knew he'd surely receive a beating if he didn't, so reluctantly disrobed.

  The scent of an entire team of naked muscular soccer players who had just won a game was overwhelming, but there was no chance to get away from them. They started laying on the ground and forming themselves into the position of a giant heart. Paul followed them, desperately wanting to get this over with as shouts of “Move over, faggot” and “This way, you dumbass” rang out from the team.

  Finally they had all wriggled into place with Paul's head at a team member's feet and his own feet near another man's head. They laid like that for several minutes while the delicious smells from the kitchen grew until finally Brie re-emerged. As soon as she saw the heart she let out a high-pitched squee and put her hands up to her smiling mouth.

  “Aww, you guys are so sweet!” Brie said, kneeling down. “I love you guys too,” She said, tracing the heart with her finger. Paul braced for the sensation of his sister's finger sliding across his own body, but at least the huge digit only spent a split second sliding over his body.

  “Dinner's ready, so pile on!” Brie said, cupping her two hands on the floor. There was no way thirteen people were going to fit in Brie's hands without piling all over each other, but they had their command. All the players climbed on top of each other's nude bodies as if it were nothing, and Paul reluctantly joined them. He tried to get into a position where no sensitive part of his body was touching anyone else but it was impossible.

  When Brie stood up Paul realized how unstable the pile was and clutched onto the other guys for support. “Let go of me, faggot!” One of them said and pushed against his arm and for a horrible second he thought he was going to fall, but he found his leg wedged awkwardly between the chest of another man and Brie's palm so he has held awkwardly in place.

  Thankfully, the trip was short. Brie released them onto the kitchen table and the guys spread themselves out right away. Paul hadn't been in Brie's kitchen yet and surmised it must be a special treat to be here by the way the rest of the guys were acting. Brie had always been the best cook in the family and the scent here was delicious, well overpowering that of the sweaty team.

  “It sure is getting warm in here!” Brie said. She reached down to the base of her sweater and pulled it off her body, revealing she was only wearing a bra underneath. Paul's blood ran cold to see so much of his gigantic sister's exposed flesh while the other guys cheered their approval. Brie was quite busty—a fact that Paul never really dwelt upon until this moment when her gigantic pair were quite literally staring him in the face.

  Brie finished up her cooking while the guys talked excitedly among themselves, several coming up to tease Paul. “You're not excited to see Boss's tits?” One of the guys asked him mockingly after shoving him. “What's the matter, you gay?” The other guys laughed at Paul viciously and Paul wanted nothing more than to just melt into the table below him.

  Soon Brie had a delicious stake dinner prepared on a single plate and she set it down in front of the guys. After sitting in front of them Brie began carefully cutting the steak into tiny pieces. She cut a piece for herself—bigger than any of them could finish in a month—and popped it into her mouth.

  “What are you waiting for, dig in!” Brie said. The teammates pushed their way forward to rip small pieces of steak off the slices Brie had cut, and they rushed to grab handfulls of mashed potatoes and peas to nibble on. Brie's rack was just inches from them and there was never a moment when at least a couple sets of eyes were on them.

  Paul joined the team in eating since he was hungry, but his stomach was queasy at the situation. Brie's tits were an enormous, distracting presence, and he couldn't help but look at them; well-rounded, supple, and full. Brie knew he was humiliated, and she enjoyed his humiliation as much as she enjoyed the lusting attention of the team.

  Paul soon reached the limit of how much he could eat, and the team continued ravenously attacking the steak. Brie herself ate what seemed like endless amounts of food, and to make matters worse she pulled one of her bra straps down off her shoulder halfway through the meal. “Oops,” She giggled at her insincere mistake.

  Finally dinner was done and Brie brought the plate over to the sink. Without needing to be asked the men started to pick up scraps from around the table and pile them on the napkin. They were kind to Brie normally but they were extra attentive today. They knew they were getting something good at the end of it, and Paul dare not entertain the notion of what that might be.

  Brie returned to stand in front of them, her near-naked front like a vast building of feminine flesh. Paul couldn't help but notice how toned and shaped Brie's body was. Brie's fingers played with the strap of her bra and Paul's fears were a step closer to being realized.

  “How about some team building activities?” Brie said at last, and a hollering cheer came from the team as if they had just won the league finals. Brie undo her bra and let if fall away from her body revealing her luscious, round full breasts to the thirteen men assembled.

Brie sat back down on her chair and leaned forward so her breasts were leaning against the table. The entire team rushed forward to touch them, pushing and shoving each other to get the best spot as two dozen tiny hands reached out to rub the sensual flesh of Brie's tits. Brie giggled, enjoying the sensation and the spectacle of the guys fighting over the best spots.

  “Hey!” Kyle turned back to Paul who was hanging back. “Everyone joins in team building exercises, remember?” Before Paul knew it strong hands had clasped around his arms and he was being pulled in. Paul tried to fight against them but it was no use—he could feel the heat coming off his sister's body as he was forced a hairs breadth away from Brie's tit.

  “Go on,” Kyle said. The entire team was watching him. Paul couldn't meet his sister's eye—he slowly reached forward and lay his hand on her boob. Instantly the entire team started groaning in mock disgust.

  “She's your sister, that's really messed up, you know that?” One of them mocked. “Get him closer!” Kyle shouted, and strong hands pushed him right up against Brie's flesh. Brie laughed, enjoying this immensely. Paul struggled to extricate himself from Brie's tits but with the force of the players pushing him against them all his thrashing ended up doing was stimulating Brie's sensative flesh.

  “Touch her nipple!” One of them yelled. Paul refused, but once again refusal was not an option. Four different teammates shoved his body and pulled his arms so that his hands were now cupping Brie's massive nipple, which was now almost the size of his whole head.

  “Kiss it! Kiss it!” They started to chant. Paul could feel his spirit breaking—this was so humiliating, he had to get out of this situation somehow even if it was only mentally. This nipple didn't belong to Brie—he couldn't see her face, so it might as well belong to any girl. Maybe Hannah—but Paul didn't want to sully his memory of her with this. The same with Katelyn. He tried to imagine this nipple as belonging to Bethany—he didn't think she would mind that—but he had been up close to Bethany's nipples, and Brie's pristine nipples lacked the wear and tear of years of suckling infants.

  As a last resort Paul turned to Jen. He had never seen her boobs and was sure they were smaller than Brie's, but her nipples couldn't be that different. And while he never wanted to be with Jen, at least she was not his sister and hers was not a memory he held dear like Hanna's or Katelyn's, so Jen's nipple this would be.

  He leaned forward and kissed Jen's nipple submissively bringing up roaring laughter from the athletes. They hurled all sorts of insults at him, from sicko to pervert to freak. Closing his eyes and imagining Jen's face in his mind he kissed her nipple again, shutting the men out and just waiting until he'd be allowed to stop.

  Finally he felt Brie's body pull away from him and he instinctively stepped back away from the edge of the table into the group of guys. Paul's eyes flicked up to meet Brie's, and her face carried a look of almost vindictive pleasure. They jeered and laughed at Paul as Brie leaned back in the chair and put her sock-clad feet up on the table.

  “I say we take this party elsewhere,” Brie said, leaning forward to peel off one of her socks. These were the socks she had worn throughout all the day's activities including the game earlier, so the odor of her foot was pungent and sweaty. She lay the sock down on the table and the men started to crawl inside.

  The smell was bad enough from the outside and the thought of being trapped inside with so many naked male athletes was repulsive to Paul, but he knew he wouldn't be given a choice. Before anyone could push him he crawled down into the sock, Brie's foot scent combining with the sweat of the athletes to create a quite repugnant scent.

  Paul knew the other guys were still mocking him but he shut it out of his mind. Suddenly the sock was shifting and went from horizontal on the table to vertical in Brie's hand. All thirteen men became smashed together and Paul struggled instinctively to escape the pressure even though there was nowhere to go.

  “Stop squirming, faggot!” The athlete under him growled. “God damn, his sister's really got him horny” another mocked to a great round of laughter. Between the smell, the pressure, and the sensation of being surrounded by so much man-meat Paul wanted to scream, but he held it in and tensed his body up, bearing each second with great difficulty waiting for it to be over.

  After what felt like hours but was likely less than a minute the sock started to shift again. It had been turned horizontal as Brie was pouring it's contents out one by one. Male bodies became unpeeled from one another as they slid through the fabric corridor of Brie's tall sock to land on what was unmistakably the surface of a bed—Brie's bed.

  It was Paul's turn to become unstuck from his neighbor with an unpleasant ripping sensation as he tumbled head over heels through Brie's sock until he landed with great relief on the bedspread. The last few men tumbled out and they now all lay in a rough line. Paul's relief at being out of the sock turned to dread when he realized where he was and what was likely to happen.

  Brie was standing over the bed, her upper thighs at the level of the team while her naked upper half towered over them. She looked down with an obvious expression of lust in her eyes, and she started cupping and playing with her boobs in a show Paul wished he never had to see.

  “You guys won me a great victory today,” Brie said. “I love winners. Only winners are worthy, and today, that means you.”

  Brie's hands slid down to grab the waistband of her athletic shorts. She played with them for a moment showing off the strap of her panties before pulling them down entirely revealing a pair of brightly-colored panties. The men cheered, but now the cheers had turned to whoops and shouts of lust. Brie's cameltoe was right at eye level for all the men to see, the outline of her pussy painfully obvious and impossible to miss.

  Paul had never seen any Big vagina as a small and it would have been a terrifying and intimidating sight regardless of who it was, but the fact that it was Brie's made this all the more horrible. Paul had no doubt at all that it was more than large enough to swallow him whole.

  Things became even worse when Brie started to rub herself on the outside of her panties. “Mmmhhhh...” Brie moaned in a high-pitched, girlish voice. All the men watched her intensely; even Paul couldn't look away. Brie's chest heaved high above as she played with herself, basking in the attention of the tiny men.

  For several minutes Brie played with herself. The wetness of Brie's pussy was starting to penetrate through the fabric of her panties. Some of the guys were actually sitting on their hands to avoid jerking off—undoubtedly they were waiting until Brie allowed it. This was clearly all a ritual they had gone through before.

  Now Brie was fingering the waistband of her panties. The men, who had largely quieted down, were starting to holler again at the prospect of Brie being fully naked. She teased taking them off for another couple minutes before finally pulling them down to a resounding cheer.

  Paul wanted to die—he was looking at something he'd never wish to see: his sister's pussy. It would have been bad enough at normal size, but here it was huge and shimmering with wetness. Brie began to tease her own lips, letting out little gasps of pleasure. She was putting on a show for the tiny men, and the men were giving her a show in return as she watched them struggle not to pleasure themselves.

  “Mmmm...” Brie moaned, stretching her enormous, supple body. She turned around displaying her ass to the men—it was the size of a small house and the players looked on with expressions of naked lust.

  “Watch out!” Brie said. She began to sit down, doing it slowly enough so the horny men could scramble out of the way. Paul ran backwards with them, horrified and ashamed to realize that he was getting hard right along with them. He didn't know if it was because of humiliation or the overwhelming sexuality Brie was giving off, but he desperately tried to hide it from the others.

  Brie's ass caused the whole bed to sag in her direction causing a few of the men to stumble as they struggled to get out of the way. She swung her legs up onto the bed—it was truly a spectacular display, a movement of a vast amount of muscle and skin—and then started to recline onto her pillows. She lay there with her eyes closed for a minute as the team assembled by the side of her naked body, admiring and waiting.

  After a minute Brie opened her eyes and looked over at her tiny men with a smile. She brought her hand to hover over them, considering them, pondering who to grab first. She picked a right guard named Ryan and lifted him up, the other teammates cheering for their lucky brother. Brie held Ryan in front of her face admiring him for a moment. She held him up to her nose and breathed in, enjoying his sweaty, masculine odor. She lowered him to her lips and gave him a tender kiss. Her tongue parted her lips and flicked his tiny cock her so briefly.

  “Soon,” Brie promised. “Just hold it in for me.” Brie took Ryan away from her mouth and dropped him in between her tits. She pushed them together trapping Ryan, and all the other guys cheered. Brie giggled and released her tits, Ryan tripping dazed out from between them. She picked him up and put him on her boob, rubbing him around in small circles.

  Brie released Ryan who clasped onto her nipple and started licking and sucking without any prompting. Brie made a pleasurable little moan, and then reached for another man. A similar sequence of actions happened to him resulting in him on top of Brie's other tit sucking that nipple. Brie moaned and teased herself a little as she watched her two devoted servants at work.

  Brie looked over at the remaining men, knowing they were just dying to get involved but forcing them to wait. She smiled, rubbing her pussy lips as she watched them. Finally, she said: “Okay, climb on.”

  There was a mad rush as the nine other teammates ran forward and started climbing up onto Brie's leg and torso. Only Paul and Peter held back; Peter had access to Brie more than anyone and would rather sit out than join the team for this. Paul held back in obvious horror—by no means was he about to climb on his naked sister's body.

  The teammates fought and jostled for the best position. Three other men joined the two that were already on her tits shoving and kicking each other to gain the best position. One man actually ran to the side of Brie's face and started playing with her ear—it was obvious they all knew the things Brie liked and slid into those positions automatically.

  This left five men to fight and crowd around the area of Brie's pussy. A small fight broke out as the five of them—including Kyle the team captain—fought to gain the best position on top of her. Two men were sent tumbling down between Brie's thighs and they didn't come back up—evidently they were just going to pleasure her from underneath.

  “Not going to join in?” Came Peter's smirking voice behind Paul in an immitation of the way the teammates treated him. “What's the matter, are you gay?”

  Paul had had enough—he was gay if he didn't lust after his sister, and a pervert if he gave into their demands to please her. “Just fuck off!” Paul shouted at his sister's diminutive companion. Rather than looking angry or frightened Peter just smiled wickedly, as if he were a child about to tattle on Paul to the teacher.

  “Oh sweetie, sweetie!” Peter trotted down the length of Brie's body calling out to her in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Paul thinks he's too good to join in with everybody else!”

  “Hmm?” Brie asked, distracted by all the pleasure the eleven teammates were giving her and taking a while to notice that Peter was addressing her. He was the only one who could get away with calling her “Sweetie”--she was “Boss” to everyone else.

  But Brie's eyes fell on Paul causing him to recoil from her direct attention. Her expression was one of annoyance, but a wicked smile came over her face. She reached over and picked her brother up holding him in front of her face. Paul looked down at Brie's huge face—he tried to remind himself that this was the same Brie he spent his entire childhood quarreling with and trying to get one up on each other. He tried to channel who he used to be—a brother who was on equal footing with his sister and who had no problem telling her off.

  “Brie, this is disgusting!” Paul chided her recklessly. “I'm your brother, you can't...”

  But Paul couldn't speak as Brie jammed her thumb in Paul's face, bending his head back as she effortlessly cut him off blocking his nose and mouth. Brie laughed as Paul struggled to free himself, a deep laugh of cruel satisfaction—the power dynamic had shifted in her favor forever.

  “I don't have to listen to your stupid shit anymore!” Brie laughed, still suffocating Paul with her thumb. “Oh, and you're not my brother anymore, you're just a Tiny I own now. So be useful for the first time in your worthless life and go suck my clit, bitch!”

  Brie flicked her wrist sending Paul tumbling onto Brie's stomach. Laughs came from the few teammates whose mouths weren't preoccupied. She was glaring at him fear and humiliation shot through Paul to his core. He had no choice.

  Fighting against every instinct of his body Paul crawled over Brie's belly button towards her glistening, soccer-player-covered pussy. He hesitated as he got close but the players near him grabbed his arms and dragged him over. He now found his head directly over Brie's clit, the smell of her arousal all-consuming.

  “You heard the boss!” Said Kyle as he grabbed Paul's head roughly. “Now suck, you little worm!”

  Kyle forced Paul's face into Brie's pussy as at least one other player held him down. He had no choice. He did as he was told, his mouth quickly filling up with Brie's juices as he pleasured her desperately with his mouth. He could hear her laughing between moans of pleasure as the men forced Paul against her.

  “Don't stop, bitch!” Brie gasped as her legs started to spread. A shadow came over him as Brie's hand arrived, grasping one of the men who had fallen between her legs. He was already pretty lubed up by Brie's juices and Paul had a good idea what was about to happen. Pinning the player's arms by his side Brie shoved him headfirst into her cunt.

  The ground under Paul began to move violently as he watched Brie slide the player in and out of herself while moaning indecently. All the while Paul was being held down on Brie and he was finding it difficult to breathe—the sensations were so intense that he was starting to get overloaded; he was starting to disassociate with everything going on around him and drift off into some other world.

  After about a minute of vigorously fucking herself with her little athlete-dildo Brie released him into an exhausted cum-covered heap between her legs and grabbed another player to continue. “Fuck yes!” Brie gasped. A minute later she swapped him out for another. It went on like this for almost half the team, Brie getting more and more heated with each new dildo.

  Then, just as Paul dreaded, Brie's hand came for him. “Your turn you little fuckstick!” She gasped, short of breath. Paul felt his hands pinned at his side and had just a minute to hold his breath before he felt his face, shoulders, and torso plunge into the depths of his sister's cunt.

  The heat and pressure was unimaginable; he was helpless to do anything as she slid him in and out, her vagina walls hugging and squeezing him as her body shifted around him like a hurricane blowing through. She fucked herself with him harder and harder—she had to be almost ready to cum.

  And then, like an earthquake, Brie came. It was unmistakable as her body squeezed all around him and he could hear her practically scream. Paul almost blacked out from the pressure and lack of oxygen, but found himself sliding out of Brie to land in a damp bit of bedspread underneath her dripping cunt.

  “Oh fuck...oh my god...” Brie was breathing in ecstasy above. For a moment everything was still. Then Brie's hand came and wrapped itself around Paul's sticky, exhausted form. Paul wondered what on earth Brie could want with him now, but she merely placed him on her belly—she just wanted to lay her eyes on him, lying there exhausted and defeated.

  Paul wanted to curl up and die—he was to rattled to even cry. But at least for the moment there was peace—Brie was focusing on rewarding her teammates individually. One by one she would bring them up to her mouth, whisper sweet things that Paul couldn't make out, and lick their cocks until they came on her tongue.

  After everything Paul had been through he thought he might be spared this final indignity. But after all eleven players had been satisfied Brie's hand came for him. She held him up to her face and smiled in a tired yet vindictive way.

  “That's how I like to see you,” Brie smirked. She kissed him across the midsection. Paul's dick seemed to completely leave his body and act on its own—it was still hard after all this time. Brie's tongue teased the underside of his cock, gently licking back and forth.

  “Give it up to me.” Brie said in a falsely sweet and encouraging way. “Come on.” She urged. Paul was desperate to hold back but his cock had entirely defected from him—it wasn't like he had been able to jerk off even once with all the guys around over the past weeks and he was desperate for release. He came pitifully onto Brie's tongue, and his body collapsed exhaustively in her hand.

  “That's a good boy.” Brie said with a final smile, and put Paul down on her stomach. All around him teammates were sprawled out resting. They were on Brie's boobs, her chest, her waist, and her legs. Everyone—Brie included, was exhausted and apart from Paul they were all very happy. They rested here drifting off to sleep one by one.

  Eventually even Brie was asleep and Paul felt himself rise and fall gently with each of his sister's breaths. It would have been very pleasant if it were anyone else. But Paul was overwhelmed, broken, shattered. Above all, he was exhausted. So finally he joined everyone else in sleep.

  It was not until some hours later in the middle of the night when Brie started to stirr. By this point several of the teammates had woken up and were sitting or leaning against Brie's body. They didn't dare engage in any horseplay that would disturb Brie's rest, but now that she was stirring the rest of the team started to wake up and move from their sleeping positions.

  Slowly Brie started to sit up and all the men scrambled to get off her body. A couple of them didn't make it in time and went tumbling between her legs again. Brie smirked tiredly, picking them up and placing them with the others. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were beady, but she looked very happy with herself.

  “That was fucking great, guys!” She said with a tired smile, then reached down to pick up a small cloth bag that was laying on the ground. “Here, get in. You can shower up and then get to bed.”

  All the tiny guys apart from Patrick climbed into the bag—Patrick would wait here until Brie returned to cuddle with his owner, the way they had done since they were both children. The bag was not as cramped as the sock but still deeply unpleasant, as all the guys were not just covered with sweat but the residue of Brie's juices. In all, it was a disgusting mess.

  But there was relief to be found as Brie carried the bag downstairs and released them all at the communal showers. The tired men showered with a minimum of horseplay and taunting as Brie watched tiredly, still naked, towering over them. Paul scrubbed himself vigorously with soap, wishing he could wash away the memory of what had just happened along with the physical evidence.

  Finally they were all clean and the showers were switched off. Brie adresssed her team for the final time that night behind her sleepy, disheveled hair that was spilling all over her face: “You were wonderful tonight, my sweet Mashers.” She coos. “I'll let you sleep in a little tomorrow—but we'll hit the pitch for practice at nine o'clock. We have to keep up our winning ways!”

  There was one last tired cheer from the team as Brie stood up to her full height and saluted her players in all her naked glory. Then she left to return to Patrick and her bed, and the tiny men were left to collapse on their beds.

  “I can't believe you fucked your sister,” One of the guys said to Paul. “Yeah, you're an absoulte sicko” Another said. Weak, tired laughter came from other teammates. But Paul was so worn down that he couldn't even muster up the energy to be angry about these repetitive taunts.

  Not wanting to think, or feel, or even exist right now, Paul collapsed on his bed, and just like the teammates around him he fell back into sleep in a matter of minutes and slept through the night in a dreamless, yet troubled, sleep.

Life at Brie's house went on much the way it did before after that night; to the guys on the team the experience was nothing new, though the way they talked about it he gathered that it was one of the more memorable and enjoyable encounters they had had with their owner in quite some time.

It was very hard for Paul to see Brie in the same light after that night. Yes, she had teased him before, but to throw out any trace of family loyalty and history she had with Paul and treat him as just another toy to be used was a harrowing experience. But it wasn't just that she treated him like a toy—it was definitely personal, vindictive even. Paul wondered if he had been that bad of a brother to provoke such a response. He and Brie had always been trading barbs; a very exasperated Sarah had played the role of peacekeeper many times throughout their childhood. Paul just couldn't believe the extent Brie was milking her final victory over him.

  Paul thought back to the last little spat they had had, literally twenty four hours before he shrank. Brie had mocked him for Jen coming on to him, and Paul had made some snippy comment about Brie not being able to find a guy. Was this partially revenge for that? By saying that Brie was unable to get a boyfriend had he been teasing her sexual frustration, and she had had her revenge by using him to overcome that frustration?

  It was possible he was overthinking things, but one other part of that final argument stuck with him; “I don't need a man, I have my team” She had said. And it was true—the Mashers were slavishly devoted to her. And it wasn't just because she owned them—they never spoke ill of her when she wasn't around, they talked about her a lot and discussed ways to make her happy. For sure a lot of the discussions revolved around purely physical attributes and actions, but it was clear they all had a high degree of loyalty and even love for Brie.

  This lead Paul to come to the conclusion that while Brie was not dating a Big man, her soccer team as a collective unit was acting as a surrogate boyfriend. It made a lot of sense—she acted much like an overly obsessive girlfriend around them, and it was more than just sports related. She always was trying to figure out what they were thinking and tried to make them happy. Sure, she took the lead in the relationship and could be quite harsh when they fell short of her expectations, but that was to be expected with the size difference. Whereas Sarah's much larger operation was only a side project in her life, the Mashers were at the center of Brie's life.

  This was all fine and good for the team, but as far as Paul was concerned he hated his life here. He hated the constant jabs and insults by the team members, he hated doing all the chores for them, and he hated the fact he was never alone. But more than all of it, he hated the way Brie and the team interacted. It truly was like he was the third wheel in a highly dysfunctional relationship, and he was forced to watch his sister act flirty and downright horny on a daily basis. Paul couldn't believe he would ever think this way, but he found himself nostalgic for his brief weeks as a janitor at Sarah's op.

  The weeks wore on; the team would have a game every few days and Paul would dread those days. Even though the hours Brie and the team were away were the precious moments he could spend alone, he knew there was always the chance they could come home victorious. A loss usually meant a punishment and the team was extra aggressive towards him, but it was still better than a win, because a win meant a repeat of what they euphemistically called a “team-building exercise”.

  There were two other victories after that first one and both resulted in Paul making a return trip to Brie's bedroom along with the team. Thankfully he didn't see the inside of Brie's cunt either of those two times; one of the times he was on her breast, grabbing hold of her nipple while Brie fucked herself with different team members. The other he was trapped inside her sock against her foot, which had been horrible—it was smelly, dark, and humiliating—but it was still not as bad as that first day.

  Paul didn't know how long he could keep living this way. Would he eventually go numb to it all? Would he carry out his duties robotically, feeling nothing as his sister used him in any way she pleased, as the team members would insult and harass him? Or would he eventually snap, and provoke a response from Brie or the team that would make life even worse?

  At moments Paul considered running away. He was sure there had to be a way to sneak out of the house. He could sneak out, and wander the streets of Gettysburg looking for someone to take him in, anyone. It would create a big scandal when he was found and it was found out who his mother was. Knowing this had all happened to her son would badly derail Doris's career and efforts for Tiny rights. But Paul didn't care anymore; his mother, Sarah, Brie, he was growing to hate them all for putting him in this situation. If only he could find Hannah and stay with her. He fantasized about it often—he would hide in her parents garden and wait for her to get home from school. When he saw her he'd jump out from behind some flowers, and Hannah would be surprised but thrilled to see him and pick him up and bring him inside. She'd listen to his stories, hug him tight and tell him it was all over now, and that he'd be her companion for the rest of time.

  But he knew that fantasy would never come true, and he'd stay as Brie's property for the rest of time. He could see his future and it looked bleak.

  But little did he know his time at Brie's was coming to an end.

  The day it happened was very normal; Brie put the team through their morning exercises, then went out for most of the afternoon and expected them to do their evening drills on their own, which they of course did. Paul even had a fleeting thought that his body was finally starting to be fit enough to keep up with his duties as a ball boy, and he felt an almost perverse sense of pride in that, though it shamed him to admit that to himself.

  It was just after sunset when Brie returned, and the moment the door opened and Brie stepped into the house Paul noticed something was different about her. She was walking with a bit of an extra skip in her step and there was a barely contained smile of pure excitement on her face. She was usually only this happy when the Thrashers won a game, and even that didn't get this exact kind of reaction out of her. It had a different flavor to it; there was no other way Paul could think to put it.

  The athletes all noticed it too, and they elbowed and shoved each other on their way to great her. It seemed they believed a surprise “team building exercise” was in the cards tonight and they were eager to show their willingness to take part.

  “Hello sweeties, I brought you dinner!” Brie said brightly, taking some of Doris's cooking out of her bag and opening it on the ground for the team's consumption. With their normal shoving and horseplay the team dug in, Paul only elbowed his way in meekly once everyone else was deep into stuffing their faces. If Paul hadn't been keeping his head down and avoiding looking up into his sister and owner's face he would have noticed Brie's eyes on him quite a bit more than normal.

  Shower time followed dinner time, and Paul roboticly followed the excited athletes to the showers. Excited phrases were passed between them; “Wash yourself real good tonight, boys.” “Looks like we're going in” and the like. Brie kicked off her shoes and sat on the floor, her trademark multicolored socked feet facing the team. The excitement on her face was palpable and it seemed she was making an effort not to play with herself right in front of them for a change, and it was clearly an effort for her.

  Soon the shower was over. “Line up, team!” Brie said, the athletes rushing to form a line, many of them already erect. Paul stood among them as he was required to do. “This is it.” He heard one athlete whisper to the next.

  Brie sat down in front of her team in a frog position, the bottoms of her feet touching and toes pointing at the men in front of her; camel toe clearly pressing against her shorts behind her heels. The men looked up at her with wrapt attention as she brought her finger forward and started running it across the assembled team at waist-level, brushing each man's cock.

  “My lovely team,” Brie said fondly as she touched each tiny dick one by one. Paul tensed up as her massive finger brushed against his. “You've been so good to me, you've worked so hard. Well, maybe except for you.”

  She lightly tapped her fingernail upwards to bump the junk of the poor hapless center who was often maligned as a scapegoat for the team's problems. Of course, to him it was the equivelent of being kicked full-force and he exclaimed in pain as he doubled over. Everyone else on the team laughed uproariously as the poor athlete struggled to get back on his feet and rejoin the line lest he receive more punishment.

  Brie laughed airily as if she had just made a lighthearted tease. “But that will be changing soon, oh yes it will.” She said, and suddenly the whole team got stiff and quiet. If there was going to be a change to the roster it would be a massive shift to both their gameplay and to the social pecking order around the house. Basically, Brie had just casually hinted that their entire lives were about to change.

  “But don't worry yourselves about that tonight,” Brie said, still all smiles. “Because now it's time for me to pick my MVP.”

  There was a low, almost imperceptible moan from many of the athletes. It seemed they had guessed wrong and that a full-team romp was not in the cards for tonight. But at least it meant that Paul was safe; Brie would disappear for the night with her toy for the evening and he would be stuck with a bunch of blue-balled athletes now uncertain about their future.

  Brie's smile widened; she was drinking in the anticipation of the team. Her eyes fell on to each of them in turn; not one face looked away from her. It was clear to Paul at least that she had already made up her mind but she was dragging this out for her own amusement.

  “I will pick, I will pick...” Brie said, her finger moving back and forth. “I will pick...YOU!” And her finger swung around to point directly at Paul.

An icy cold sensation of shock shot through Paul's body as a chorus of surprised and intregued “Oooooh”s came from all around him. Nobody in a thousand years thought that Brie would pick her own brother to be her plaything for the night—being one body in a “team-building” orgy to humiliate him was one thing, but to take him one on one was completely unexpected. So much so that the athletes temporarily forgot that their whole team was set to be upended.

  Paul's face shot up to Brie's with shock and horror written all over his face, but Brie just returned his expression with a supremely smug smile. Athletes moved aside as Brie's hand came forward to grasp Paul, the usual contradictory abuse being hurled his way as he was lifted: “look how much this sicko wants to please his sister” and “I bet the faggot won't even get hard!”

  Brie stood up to her full height with Paul in hand. Looking down at the team she hailed them one last time: “Now rest up my lovely athletes for tomorrow we're about to kick our practice into high gear!”

  Indecipherable noises from the men far below faded as Brie walked out of the room and toward the stairs. Each step up the staircase felt like a new weight being shoved down Paul's throat. There was nothing he could do about it; he was at Brie's complete mercy and none would witness what was about to happen.

  The hallway was dark so Paul couldn't make out where they were going until Brie flicked on a light to reveal they had entered her bedroom. The light was warm and disturbingly intimate—details like that had eluded Paul before on previous visits but it seemed that panic had heightened his powers of observation.

  Brie sat down on the edge of her bed and lifted Paul between two fingers as if holding him with chopsticks. Paul clutched Brie's finger for support as his legs dangled over the void below, cock semi-erect over fear in full view.

  And there was Brie in front of him. With his fear-heightened perception he took her in; starting at the bottom with her brightly-colored tall socks that came up several inches above her ankles. Smooth white legs curved around knees to shapely, athletic thighs, pressed together in excitement. Then there were her tiny lime green shorts, not an inch longer than they had to be and not doing much to hide her camel-toe.

  Above that was a couple inches of exposed midriff where Brie's belly-button was exposed—the place where she had once been attached to the same womb that would go on to birth Paul himself a couple years later. Above that was a white-knitted shirt that hugged Brie's body, advertising the two soft hills rising out from her chest as what might have once been called sweater puppies.

  And above that was the face of his sister, looking the same as it had always looked with her excitable, extroverted features. Bold pink lipstick sat upon rich full lips, blue eyes curtained by lashes that had been carefully brushed; rosy warm cheeks. And on top of it was Brie's dirty blonde hair still pulled back in the ponytail she almost always kept when leaving the house.

  Yes, it was Brie, the same sister he had known his entire life, now nineteen and on her own. Still the excitable girl, but now the colossal figure sat before him. His former bickering partner and childhood rival; whereas they had once traded victories back and forth with Brie only slightly taking the lead, he had now been reduced to a statistical nothing next to her and she could run up the score indefinitely without any effort or consequence.

  “Oh Paul,” She said, looking at him. “You're so silly.” She was obviously getting great pleasure from just gazing at his helpless naked body dangling from her fingers. Paul wished he could do something, anything to put up a token resistance. But there was nothing. He was exposed and helpless and very, very small.

  “Brie...” Paul eked out, almost unable to speak. “Brie...I...”

  “What's that?” Brie asked with mock concern. “You have something to say to me, little Paul?”

  “Brie...” Paul wanted to make some kind of retort, some kind of verbal jab that would make even the tiniest dent in the giantess's impenetrable armor. But cowed by her sheer size and the intensity in her face, he could only squeak out a pathetic question: “What are you going to do with me?”

  Brie giggled, massive thighs shifting sensually like ocean waves below him. “What am I going to do with you?” Brie repeated. “I'm going to have my fun with you. I'm going to put you through every little game I can think of. I'm going to make sure that this is a night that you're never going to forget.”

  Filled with dread, Paul hung stiffly in Brie's hand as her other hand came up to touch him, her index finger fondling his balls tenderly. Brie giggled again. “This is so good.” Brie said. “You know, I really think this is the size you were meant to be. Being a Tiny really suits you. You never really were all that good as a Big. But as a Small you can at least be useful for my amusement.”

  Paul had never felt so low in his life and the evening was only beginning. The fondling continued for a few more seconds before Brie pulled her finger away and wrapped her hand around Paul. She swung her legs around the bed and reclined back, holding Paul not far away from her boobs and looking at him, possibly running through all the possibilities in her mind in an attempt to decide what to do first.

  The anticipation of whatever act Brie was thinking about was almost worse than the act itself—Brie was still giggling, clearly getting off on Paul's look of fear. “Why are you so scared?” Brie asked in that falsely sweet voice. “I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to play with you.”

  Paul said nothing while Brie continued to giggle. “Actually,” Brie said. “I think I'm going to eat you.”

  And without giving Paul a chance to react Brie opened her mouth and popped him in like a candy. Paul let out a yelp of fear as he was launched against Brie's tongue, his feet sticking out between her lips as his head hurled towards her throat, her wet uvula bumping against his head.

  For a second Paul thought Brie was actually going to do it and he started thrashing around in a blind panic. Brie's lips closed plunging him into darkness and his thrashing was thwarted by her tongue simply holding him in place.

  “Mmmm,” Brie moaned, the sound gigantic all around Paul. Brie started sucking on Paul lightly, Paul forcing himself to relax, though it was hard with his entire world in motion. Brie's lips panted as she let out brief sharp breaths of arousal. Paul looked back between Brie's lips to see her playing with herself above her shorts seemingly miles away.

  Several minutes of sucking later Brie finally released her brother. Coated in her saliva Paul flopped out of Brie's lips into her hand. “Fuck, that was fun.” Brie said, looking down at her soaking brother. “What's the matter, sad I didn't eat you?” Brie teased. “You want to be a snack for your sister?”

  “N-no,” Paul timidly. Brie laughed. For a moment he thought she was going to put him in her mouth again. But instead Brie placed him on the bed and pulled herself up into a sitting position. Like before Paul found himself face to face with Brie's sock-covered toes. They sat across from each other like this, gigantic sister and tiny brother.

  “You're just a little bug,” Brie teased. “Such a little worm. You'll do anything I make you do because you have no choice.”

  Slowly, Brie reached down and pulled off the sock of her left foot. She flexed her toes in the open air, a stale foot smell pervading. Paul could see the light pink paint on her toenails and could tell it had been a little while since she had done them; unsurprising as she almost always wore her characteristic socks.

  “Such a little bug,” Brie repeated, shifting on the bed. Her movement jostled Paul, and he didn't realize until too late that Brie was shifting positions so she could put her foot directly on top of him. Paul was pushed down into the soft bed by the immense weight of Brie's foot.

  “Squish!” Brie laughed, delighted. Paul lay there pinned, unable to move. “Just a silly bug under my toes.” Brie said. “You couldn't get out if you tried. Here, struggle for me.”

  Paul didn't move. Brie applied more pressure forcing all the air from Paul's lungs. Half out of instinct and half out of desperation to obey Paul started struggling, uselessly wiggling under Brie's foot in a vain attempt to get away. Brie laughed, releasing just enough pressure that Paul could breathe again.

  “Now I want you to lick my toes.” Brie ordered. “Come on, let me feel that tiny tongue of yours.” Paul had no choice, he had to obey. He licked the thick skin of Brie's toes and could feel them wiggle in response. “Ooh, I feel it!” Brie said. “Keep going!”

  The licking session dragged on and on; Brie kept shifting her foot so he could hit different areas. He felt his tongue start to get numb from all the effort, and he thought the smell of her feet was filling his very lungs. “Make sure you get between my toes,” Brie said. “Ooh, yeah, right there! That feels great!”

  At long last Brie removed her foot leaving Paul to stay there, exhausted, and staring up at the ceiling. Brie's giant face soon invaded this view as she looked down on him. She held her used sock over him and began to sway it back and forth like a pendulum. Finally, she dropped the sock on top of him, the soft but heavy fabric covering him.

  “No hiding! Come on out!” Brie said. With effort, Paul pulled himself out of the spot where Brie had pressed him into the mattress and emerged from below the sock. Brie's eyes moved from him back to the sock. “Now I want you to climb inside.”

  There was little Paul could think of that he wanted to do less than climb into Brie's sweaty, musky sock. She noticed his hesitation and cocked her head, looking down at him quizzically.

  “Don't want to get in my sock?” Brie asked. “Well, maybe we can see how long you treat water in the toilet!”

  Paul had no doubt Brie would follow through on that threat so he quickly scrambled for the entrance to the sock. The fabric was soft and in a different context this might be a decent place to take a nap. But as it was, he had to force himself further and further into the sweaty interior.

  “That's right, all the way to the toe.” Brie said. The lower part of her sock was the smelliest part and it was a little moist from her sweat. When Paul was almost there he felt the world move around him as Brie picked up the sock causing Paul to tumble into the toe.

  “I can barely feel that you're in there!” Brie said, standing up and walking around her room. She started to swing the sock back and forth causing a stomach-churning sensation as Paul was pressed into the fabric. Then, suddenly, Brie started swinging the sock round and round.

  “Wheee!” Said Brie as the sock and Paul spun in a circle faster and faster. Paul was on the verge of blacking out, the g-force was immense, he was being jammed into the fabric. This was going to be it, he thought, Brie's careless was going to kill him. He was going to rip through the fabric of her toe and slam into the wall.

  But even at high speeds Paul's minute weight didn't damage the fabric in the slightest and Brie stopped the spinning, Paul just laying there trying to regain his breath.

  “Having fun in there?” Brie asked. “Maybe I should just leave you in there for a while. Yes, I'll do that. I have to get prepared for bed anyway.”

  The sock swayed back and forth as Brie walked towards the bathroom. Paul realized that he could see through the fabric as if looking through a thick screen—the unmistakable blur of motion from Brie's white legs passed under him.

  Once inside the bathroom Brie headed for the sink. Paul watched as she opened the door to the medicine cabinet. He felt the sock shift as she put the top inside the bottom shelf and then closed the door—the sock was now jammed there and he was trapped inside. There was no hope of dislodging it or climbing out, and even if he could he was high up in the air.

  “Just hang out there for a while.” Brie said, laughing at her pun as she turned away. Facing away from him Brie pulls the tie out of her ponytail letting her hair spill around her shoulder. She then reaches down to begin taking off her shirt, and at that point Paul turns away. In no world would he willingly watch his sister undress. He knew he'd have to face her nude body at some point but he wanted to forestall that moment as long as he could.

  Paul tried to distract himself with thoughts of happier times, but it was impossible. Between the smell, the discomfort, and the sounds of Brie he couldn't escape into his mind. And Brie was in no rush either—Paul heard her wasting time giggling, pacing around doing god knows what, and using the bathroom. He almost just wanted her to get on with it.

  Eventually the world shook with the sounds of the house's plumbing as Brie turned on the shower. Paul tried not to think about the sound the water made as it hit Brie's skin or what she was likely doing in there. Paul just closed his eyes and waited as air around him became more warm and humid from the shower.

  Finally, Brie was done. But she really wasn't done; she still had to towel off and then she made the decision to blow-dry her hair. The sound of the blow-drier was ear-splitting and he expected that at any moment Brie would turn it on his prison and he would begin to cook there in the sock, but apart from some incidental heat there was no interaction with the device.

  It felt like a million years since Paul was locked in the sock, but finally he felt his world shift as Brie took it out from it's position hanging from the cabinet. Again the rocking sensation as Brie walked back to her bedroom until suddenly his world turned upside-down as Brie dumped him back out on the bed.

He didn't want to look at his sister but he did, and he was relieved to see that she was wearing a bathrobe. It was tied loosely and an ample amount of her cleavage was showing, but it was far better than the full nudity he expected.

  “Eww, you're so stinky, you should smell yourself!” Brie giggled. She tossed the sock away from her bed and stretched, her robe becoming slightly undone as her right breast started to reveal itself. Her nipple began to poke ever so slightly out from behind the fabric as if to mock Paul.

  “Look at you, you're completely useless as a companion, you're to scrawny to be an athlete, and you're too ugly to be a model.” Brie said, the clean giantess talking down to the sticky tiny. “I don't know what value you could have; I just don't understand it.” Brie shook her head and Paul had the impression there was something she wasn't telling him. But before he could wonder about that he was completely distracted by Brie starting to undo the tie of her robe.

  “Now look at me on the other hand,” Brie said, beginning to pull her robe open. “Nineteen years old, athletic, supple, cute... guys would die to have me, right little bro?”

  And finally the robe was coming completely off. As Brie let it fall to the ground Paul was now greeted by a massive billboard of clean white flesh. It was almost breathtaking in an odd way. He didn't want to think about how perfectly formed her body was—it never occurred to him to think about Brie's body before but now it was quite literally all he could see.

  “For example, how many girls do you know have great tits like these?” Brie asked, cupping her ample boobs. Paul struggled not to become hard. This was too much. “Tell me how great my tits are you little turd nugget.” Brie commanded.

  “Y-your tits are great, Brie!” Paul felt his voice say as Brie bent over him, squeezing her tits. “Or how about my hips, or my taut, fit body?” Brie said, posing in front of Paul. The folds of her sex were clearly visible not much higher than Paul currently was. He couldn't help it—the display of overwhelming femininity and sexuality were overriding his disgust and making him hard.

  “Or how about my ass?” Brie asked, turning around and bending down, her bare ass the size of a house the only thing Paul could see. It was indeed thick and full without being too large for her athletic frame, and when she gave it a little slap he could see the skin ripple in quick waves. For a fleeting moment Paul wondered how it was that Brie had trouble getting guys with a body like this.

  “Your ass is wonderful, Brie!” Paul responded; in his desperation and humiliation he sounded almost too enthusiastic; Brie turned her head around and gave him a little laugh.

  “And you say no guys want to be with me.” Brie said, turning around. “Well, you're wrong. I can get a guy anytime I want. I see their eyes on me all the time at soccer meets.”

  Those little spats where a big Paul and Brie would trade back and forth barbs before Paul would eventually drop the verbal nuke on Brie seemed out of a different life, but clearly it was alive in Brie right now. She was going to make Paul eat every one of his words.

  “I'll tell you what's going to happen.” Brie said. “I'm going to meet a guy at a soccer meet who owns a team of girls and we're going to start dating. His team will win the women's cup and the Mashers will win the men's cup, and in the celebration he will propose to me. When we marry our teams will come together. His girls will retire from playing and my Mashers will knock them up; we'll produce dozens of the most sought-after soccer stars Gettysburg has ever seen. They'll be of championship pedigree on both sides of the family and we'll keep making them until the girls can't make them anymore. We're going to be so rich from the players we create as well as the money from my husband's awesome job, and in the meantime he's going to give me six children! And when I get older it will be me who gets voted into mom's senate seat when she retires, not Sarah who's just going to be a boring accountant, and no one's even going to remember you.”

  Brie's taunting was turning into fantasizing about her future out loud, and even in his state of terror Paul still could see how overly optimistic Brie's predictions of the future were. Paul didn't know if she was that dilusional to think she'd get all of that or if she just wanted to taunt him in some strange way, but the resentment was real and intense.

  Brie moved forward, putting her knee up on the bed to Paul's right. Her pussy was almost directly over him and he could smell the sweetness of her sex along with the scent of soap upon her clean skin. And high above, a wide giddy smile grew on Brie's face.

  “You know what I think I'll do?” Brie said. “I'm going to put you in my butt.”

  A cold stab of dread shot through Paul even bigger than when Brie had selected him downstairs. “W-what?” Paul asked.

  “Up the butt! Up the butt!” Brie said in a sing-songy way, giggling madly. “Don't worry, I just washed it!”

  The bed shook and knocked Paul around as Brie climbed up onto it, Brie's leg coming close to landing on him at one point. Brie lay down on her front with her legs spread around Paul, her ass rising up like a twin-peaked mountain.

  “Come on, up onto my ass with you.” Brie said. When Paul didn't move, she said: “Or maybe you'd rather be dropped into the toilet?”

  There was nothing Paul could do; Brie was going to get what she wanted one way or another. Fighting against every instinct to stay he pulled himself up Brie's left thigh and crawled along her warm flesh. The surface of her ass was squishy and gave way under his weight and he made his way to the center of her left cheek.

  “That's a good boy,” Brie said. “Now, keep going.” Brie brought down her hands and spread her cheeks. Her anus was in full view and was an extestentially threatening sight to Paul. The thought of going back into her pussy didn't seem so bad by comparison. He dropped down to a crawl and slowly scooted forward.

  “Almost there.” Brie said. “Come on, you're making me impatient!” Her asshole loomed ever closer to Paul as he pushed himself reluctantly forward. Brie's skin was giving off warmth and he could distinctly feel her heartbeat.

  “Give it a kiss.” Brie giggled. “Go ahead, kiss my ass.” Paul pulled himself forward just a little more and laid a kiss on the pink folds. He could taste her soap but there were still hints of another taste here.

  “Ooh, that's so sensitivie, do it again!” Brie commanded. Already starting to hate the taste in his mouth Paul gave her asshole another kiss. Brie squirmed. “Get in closer. I want you to start licking!”

  It was the most humiliating thing Paul could think of to lick Brie's giant asshole, and he was certain that's why he was being made to do it. “Mmmm...” Moaned Brie. Her hips started to undulate. He could smell her arousal growing.

  One of Brie's fingers found the back of Paul's head. Pushing gently at first, Paul found his head pressed right up against her asshole. He tried to turn his face, to do anything to get away, but with one head-squishing push Brie pushed Paul's head into her anus, the walls clutching his face harshly as a terrible smell assailed his senses.

  Brie let go of her ass cheeks and they sprang back to grip the rest of Paul's body as he flailed in desperation. He couldn't hear anything in here but swore he could feel Brie laughing. He thought he might break his neck from struggling but if he didn't struggle he would surely suffocate!

  He fought his own instincts and made himself calm down even as he was running out of air, but finally Brie released him, Paul's head popping out as he leaned against her cheeks to catch his breath.

  “You're a literal butthead!” Brie said, still laughing. “No, a literal ass-hat! My ass was your hat!” Brie repeated redundantly. She reached down and picked him up and he thought it might be over, but he was mistaken. Brie spun herself around to prop her ass up against the headboard of the bed, her legs against the wall with her feet high above.

  “I want to watch this,” Brie said, her neck straining as this position gave her as close of a view as she could. She positioned Paul over her ass again, her feet sliding along her as as she located the hole he was condemned to enter. “Feet together, butt plug.” Brie commanded. Paul did so and a second later felt his feet slide through the opening to her asshole.

  “Okay, now use my finger as leverage to push yourself further in.” Brie said. “If I have to do it you'll probably like it a lot less.” Paul gripped against Brie's finger tightly. She started moving the finger down and he allowed himself to slide in, dissappearing first up to his knees, then waste, and finally up to his chest. With every new inch the pressure got more immense but at the same time he could feel Brie relax a little around him.

  “Oh god, that's so awesome,” Brie said. She moved her finger away and Paul could feel the air be pushed out of his lungs as Brie clenched.

  “Try to escape. Just try.” Brie challanged. It didn't take much encouragement for Paul to push against Brie with all the effort he had but her muscles just would not budge; their crushing power held him right in place despite his best effort.

  “My sphincter is stronger than your entire body! You're trapped!” Brie laughed. “Oh my god this is so hot. My little brother is stuck in my ass.”

  Brie's pussy was right in front of Paul and it was getting moist with juices. Brie's fingers came down and she started playing with herself right in front of him, an overwhelming show of female self-pleasure that Paul couldn't escape any more than he could his anal prison. He was getting hard again, his tiny cock pressing treacherously against the walls of her asshole. It didn't escape her notice.

  “I can feel your little dick!” Brie exclaimed. “Oh god this is too good, I need more than this!” Paul could feel Brie's body shift and heard the sound of her bedstand drawer opening up and her fumbling for something. It wasn't much of a mystery what it was—seconds later Paul was face to face with a thick purple dildo almost twice as long as he was tall.

  Her pussy sufficiently lubricated, Brie inserted the dildo in herself with a great moan, Paul's prison becoming even more constricted as it's neighbor received its much larger visitor. Brie then began to fuck herself with the dildo, it's length glistening with her juices every time it came up.

  “Ah, ah, ah!” Brie cried out with every thrust as her hips bucked wildly. Paul felt he was going to be crushed to dust inside her. Her juices were spilling over as he movements became more intense. Finally Brie came with a very immodest, feminine “Ohhhhhh....”, a sound Paul was sure would haunt his nightmares until the day he died. Finally Brie started to relax.

  Her fingers came for him, gripping his arms and pulling him out of her asshole. Her ass didn't want to give him up so easily and her sphincter walls grabbed at him greedily as he went. The smell was terrible and Paul felt that all the washing in the world couldn't put it right.

  “Fuck, that was the hottest thing I've ever done.” Brie said. “Tell me you loved being my ass toy, Paul.”

  Defeated and afraid of a repeat, Paul exhaustively repeated: “I love being your ass toy, Brie.”

  “You wish you could worship my ass and be inside it every day, don't you?” Brie prompted.

  “I surely do wish it,” Paul affirmed.

  “You are nothing but Brie's little turd, right?” She asked.

  “I'm just Brie's little turd.” Paul said, wishing he could just disintegrate right there. Brie seemed satisfied. She swung her legs from the wall to the side of the bed and stood up. She lifted Paul up to take a quick whiff.

  “Ooh, God, you reek,” Brie laughed. “You're a really disgusting little butt plug, you know that right?” More laughter. “I'm not letting you touch my body until you get cleaned up! Let's go.”

  Once again to the bathroom as Brie placed Paul in the sink and turned on the tap. Paul's body quickly became sticky as the hot water reacted with the residue on his skin. Brie brought some soap and started to clean him; it was much the same way Sarah had done the morning before she had given him to Brie, but Brie's cleaning was a lot rougher, and a lot more violating. She was enjoying the sensation of how small Paul's body and all it's puny parts were under her soapy fingers.

  “Fuck, that was exhausting.” Brie said as she picked the now-clean Paul out of the sink. “Time to get ready for bed I think. You're sleeping with me, of course, and if you even think about sneaking off you're going in my ass again, headfirst this time, all the way down to your ankles!”

  Paul had to sit there and endure as Brie went about her preparations for bedtime in the nude. She took careful and consummate care of her body—she had always been that way—and she didn't cut any corners when it came to self-maintenance. When she was done she picked up Paul and carried him back to the bedroom for a final time that night.

  Brie put Paul on her bedside table and then thankfully put on some pajamas; a set of matching light blue pants and tops. She slid herself under the covers and then picked up Paul and admired him sleepily in the light of her bed lamp.

  “I usually let the good boys sleep between my boobs at the end of the night.” Brie said. “And even though you're a little turd and generally worthless, you've actually been a very good boy to me in a very important way today even if you don't know it. So you get to sleep next to my heart. Enjoy.”

  Brie lowered Paul into her shirt and slid him between her breasts. Paul hated himself for just how much he liked it here; soft, warm, comforting. After his ordeal just now it felt downright heavenly. He wished it could be the chest of anyone else, but at this moment the thought of any other girl was so distant as to not exist. Brie's heart was beating below her breasts but it was a comforting beat and it lolled him off to sleep with it's gentle rhythm.

  The world was moving around him as Brie shifted in bed. She turned over a few times but each time her boobs cradled him and the movement did little more than wake him temporarily. But after a while he was aware of other motions. Brie's heart rate was increasing and her body was starting to undulate. It was still pitch black. Brie was playing with herself in the middle of the night.

  Paul resolved to remain absolutely still. Maybe Brie was asleep and dreaming, or maybe she was just enjoying the sensation of him lying there. Either way, he was starting to covet his warm bed and didn't want his host to remove him from it. But the movements and heartbeat were getting more intense.

  Suddenly cool air rushed into Paul's encolsure as Brie lifted up the top of her shirt with one hand. Paul looked up and caught her eye instinctively as she looked down at him from that unflattering angle where her chin dominated.

  “Fuck, I want you on my cunt.” Brie said in a breathy whisper, then dropped her shirt back down. Paul's comfertable hideaway was restored but only for a moment. From the other direction he felt the fabric being disturbed. She was reaching from below to grab him, and looking back he could already make out her other hand under the seam of her pajama bottoms.

  Brie's fingers found Paul's foot and he was dragged out from between her boobs and down her stomach until he was directly on top of Brie's pussy. She cupped him to it, holding it tight. “Fuck, lick me. Lick me back to sleep my little turd.”

  It was almost worse that Brie wanted to take it so slowly because it meant it would last longer. She rubbed him against her cunt in slow circles as he licked her. Eventually her hand stopped moving and he wanted to quit, but a quiet “Don't stop.” from high above pressured him to reluctantly keep going. His mouth was getting tired again as he spent so much energy to give Brie pleasure so slight she was likely to fall asleep through it.

  After what felt like ages Paul stopped, thinking Brie had fallen asleep. But then the fingers of her hand that had been loosely rested on him found his ass cheek and gave it a sudden sharp squeeze, spurring Paul back into action. Another eternity passed and Paul felt by now Brie must surely be asleep, so he stopped again. But no; her fingers gave his ass another painful squeeze.

  This process repeated a third, a fourth, and then a fifth time. It had to be hours; Paul's head and neck were throbbing and the musky smell of her juices was overwhelming. The movements of her body were getting less and less, and she was slowly starting to dry up. But her fingers kept finding him every time to squeeze his ass again until the sixth time where the cessation of movement was no longer met by any response.

  Paul lay there in the quiet as he could hear Brie gently breathing. She was asleep at last. And here Paul was, sticky and moist lying on her cunt. He wanted to get away but he knew the act of crawling on such sensitive ground would wake Brie right back up. This was nowhere near as nice as his boob bed from before and totally humiliating to boot. But he didn't seem to have much of a choice. Reluctantly, he lay there atop her cunt until finally he too drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

  The morning seemed to come treacherously slowly; at some point Brie moved her hand away so the bright light coming through the window began to illuminate the blue fabric of her pajamas above him. Brie's cunt also became visible under him, an overwhelming and humiliating reminder of where he was and what he had been through.

  He knew Brie had to get up soon—it was almost time for morning drills, right? He dreaded the deluge of teasing he would get from the athletes, but would at least be happy to get away from this nightmare. He didn't know why Brie had picked him but he hoped it would be the last time he would ever have to spend at his sister's mercy.

  Well, that at least would turn out to be true.

It was quite early still but felt as thought it might as well be noon when Brie finally stirred, her body moving around him. Paul felt himself slipping. If he slid off her pussy now he'd be face-to-face with her asshole again and there was no place he'd rather not be. He imagined it as a vortex sucking him in feet-first until he was entirely swallowed up by it. Her anus would close after swallowing his head and he'd be a permanent prisoner of Brie's deepest, dirtiest regions.

  But that fate would not await him. As Brie moved she pulled up the seam of her pants, light flashing in as she smiled down at him. “Good morning Paul.” Brie giggled lightly. “Sleep well, little pussy? You are what you eat after all, so you're a pussy!”

  Brie was still teasing him but the way she spoke had a more passive quality to it—she seemed to have gotten what she wanted out of Paul, and all of this was just a formality to wrap it all up with a bow. Brie pulled Paul out of her pants and looked up.

  “I've got to do the morning drill with the boys.” Brie said. “Then we'll get you cleaned up and have breakfast.”

  Now this was strange—usually the person kept overnight was returned at the start of morning drills and never had Paul seen a man kept longer. But then again everyone other than himself was an actual member of the team. He didn't really need to be at morning drill...but then again what else did Brie have in store for him?

  It was once again into the same dirty sock for Paul as she hung him up from her dresser drawer this time. Paul lay there covered in several different kinds of stink as Brie once again took her time getting ready. She got dressed and pulled on a fresh pair of her trademark long socks again, and then she was off.

  Paul didn't want to think or even feel. He was sore and still exhausted. He almost didn't even notice the stink anymore. He drifted in and out of sleep a bit for the next few hours, alternating between dreading Brie's return and no longer caring what happened to him.

  Finally Brie returned, plucked Paul from the sock, and brought him to the sink again. Her cleaning of him was a bit quicker and more to the point than last night and she kept her teasing to a minimum, and at the end of it she gave him a clean outfit of matching white pants and shirt to change into, finally ending his streak of nudity that had lasted since the team showers last night.

  “You look cute in that!” Brie giggled. “Just don't mess it up; it's time for breakfast.”

  Brie carried Paul out of her bedroom and down the stairs. She walked through the practice room and the tiny room but didn't stop to say anything to the athletes, and she moved too fast to hear what if anything they were saying way down there.

  Entering into the kitchen Brie shut the door and placed Paul on the table before going about preparing a breakfast of eggs and bacon. Paul was famished and the moment she put the plate down in front of him he approached it and took a big bite out of the eggs, which tasted to him like the greatest treat he had ever had.

  Brie smiled at him a few times as she ate but didn't say anything to him. Paul wondered why she was being so nice to him all of the sudden. He doubted it had anything to do with a guilty conscience after his night of torment, so he wondered what the angle was.

  He would get his answer shortly after breakfast was done.

  Brie picked up the plate and dropped it into the sink. Returning to Paul she lifted him up to her face and took a good hard look at him as if looking at him for the first time. Or that last.

  “That was a really fun night!” Brie said. “I'm going to remember that for a long time.”

  “Y-yeah, me too.” Paul said wearily. He was too exhausted and had no nerve, otherwise he might have come up with some kind of retort.

  “I just wanted to have one special night with you before I said goodbye.” Brie said.

  A bolt of shock ran through Paul like electricity. He was now fully awake. A great tsunami was threatening to come over him. “W-what do you mean?” Paul asked.

  “I sold you!” Brie said. The tsunami hit Paul; his entire world was being torn asunder again and he didn't know whether to be hopeful or fearful of the change.

  “You s-sold me?” Paul asked incredulously.

  “Yeah!” Brie beamed brightly. “And for quite the amount too! It's far more than you're worth in my opinion, but I wasn't about to talk her down from such a great price.”

  “Who did you sell me to?” Paul demanded to know. “Who?”

  But Brie just laughed. “I don't want to spoil the surprise.” Brie said, infuriating Paul. “But you're in for a real treat! It's great for both of us, because now I'll be able to finally buy the star Center I've been after forever! It's the last piece to the puzzle and with him we'll be unstoppable! We'll steamroll our way to the championship!”

  Now everything made sense, from Brie's good mood to her cryptic comments. But Paul didn't care about any of that—Brie had sold him! After his mother and Sarah had refused to sell or give him to Hannah, Brie had simply sold him in order to buy another soccer player. But to who? Obviously it was someone who knew Paul...could it be Hannah? The sight of her red hair and gentle face swam before his vision. He could imagine her sleuthing out what had happened to him, coming to find out that he was here, and somehow gathering the funds to make an offer Brie couldn't refuse.

  “When's my new...owner coming?” Paul said, still having difficulty saying the word after all this time.

  “Oh, any time now.” Brie said. “I made the deal just last night with the stipulation that she had to wait until this morning to pick you up. But I told her I have a very exacting schedule with the team and everything, and if she wanted you she had to show up right at...”

  There was a loud knock from the front door that sent Paul's senses into overdrive. That knock had come from the woman who now owned him—could that really be Hannah's knock? Did Hannah knock a door like that? He was clutching at straws to give him any hints at who it could be.

  “Three minutes early!” Brie said, feigning annoyance with a giggle. “I really ought to keep her waiting. But she did pay good money for you, so I guess it's time to let her in to claim you.”

  Brie stood up from her chair, Paul watching her with fixed eyes. Brie smiled down at him, looking at him for the last time as his owner. She walked to the kitchen door and opened it, walking through the tiny room towards the front door.

  Paul could not see the front door from this angle—the table was too far away from the kitchen door. But he stood there neck outstretched all the same just waiting for any sign of who it was. At the very least he would be able to hear her voice.

  There was a creak as the door opened. “Hey! Thanks for showing up on time!” Came Brie's voice.

  “I could never be late for this!” Came a familiar, excitable voice. “Is he here? Can I see him?”

  A chill ran down Paul's body as Brie answered her, his sister's words unheard by his ears. He knew exactly who this was. This was not Hannah. It was...

  Thump thump thump THUMP. The sound of giantess feet moving quickly along anchient hardwood floors and then: Jen, in all her giantess glory, was standing over the table looking down on him with the widest smile he had ever seen on a person's face.

  His last fleeting hope died as Paul looked up at Jen—she put her hands up to her face and let out a squeel. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, finally!” She reached down and snatched Paul off the table holding him right under her face, examining him with wide eyes as if not believing it was really Paul in her hand.

  “You need anything?” Brie asked her. “Clothes? Carrying cage?”

  “Nope!” Jen said brightly, eyes only leaving Paul for a moment. “This little guy's got everything he needs at my place! He doesn't even need a cage—he'll be riding here next to my heart!”

  Jen lowered Paul into the pocket on the front of her shirt. He could feel her heart pounding through the shirt's fabric.

  “Well, I guess I better take my new purchase home!” Jen giggled. “Thank you soooo much for selling him to me, Brie! You don't understand what it means to me!”

  “And thank you for taking him off my hands!” Brie laughed. “I'll buy you a ticket to see me win the men's cup with my new Center, all thanks to you!”

  “Will do!” Jen said. The two women then hugged, Paul finding himself squeezed between the chests of his former and new owner.

  “Bye now,” Brie said as the two of them walked to the front door.

  “Bye!” Jen said. And just like that she was out of the front door and Paul was beyond the reach of his family for good. In the weeks since his shrinking Paul had been this little inconvenient problem for her political career, and with this sale he was now out of the way for good. Brie was right—nobody would remember Paul or think much about him. At most, he would be that guy who disappeared in the middle of senior year at school.

  Of course Jen had been the exception to that. Jen, always pining after Paul and just waiting for him to acknowledge her in any way, now could—by the fact of Paul's shrinking—simply buy him, and he was now hers to do with as she pleased and there was nothing he could do about it. The revelation of this was just sinking in with all it's crushing weight, and it made Paul lightheaded.

  “You wouldn't believe how hard it was to find you!” Jen said, Paul bobbing up and down on Jen's lightly bouncing chest as she walked quickly down the street. “You just stopped coming to school! At first I thought you were sick. Then I thought you had dropped out to join the army. But after doing a little snooping I discovered that you had shrunk!”

  “Even after I found that out tracking you down wasn't easy.” Jen said, plowing her way through the story to Paul who was unable to respond from Jen's pocket. “I know a lot of Shrinkees get sent to live with the Pixies, and knowing what farm you were at would be impossible! For a while I thought you were still at your mom's. But I eventually found out you were at Brie's! Separating truth from rumor was hard, but I talked to someone who knew someone who had heard that you were there.”

  “I was scared to approach your sister about it but knew I'd hate myself forever if I didn't try,” Jen said. “But Brie knew who I was already! You must have told her about us before you shrank, awwww. She didn't want to sell you at first; I had to offer her enough money to buy a star Tiny athlete! Daddy wasn't thrilled when I asked him for the money but I begged him telling him you were the only boy I ever loved, so he gave it to me.”

  Paul knew that Brie couldn't really care less whether Paul was at her house or not; being reluctant to sell Paul had been a ruse to get as much money out of Jen as she could. Brie might have not been the brightest girl in the world but compared to Jen she was practically Einstein.

  Paul could see Jen's family's large house from the street as they approached. He had seen it before from the outside when Jen would cajole him into walking her home, but had never been inside; he had always been able to come up with an excuse to avoid her insistent invitations. Now he wondered if he'd ever be beyond its walls again.

  Jen practically ran up the front walkway and threw open the heavy wooden door. An open atrium with a large chandelier greeted Paul's eyes but before he could take it in Jen was bounding up the stairs, her chest bouncing quite forcefully now under Paul.

  A brief dash down the hallway and now Jen was entering her bedroom; larger than Paul's had been before he shrunk, Jen's bedroom was a highly decorated girly space featuring a lot of pink and the use of cute things. Jen was clearly a very untidy person—her wardrobe was strewn with makeup products, school supplies, and verious odds and ends, while the floor hosted a good amount of discarded clothing. Dolls—many of which were far bigger than Paul—stood guard at many parts of the room.

  “Here we are!” Jen beamed as she flopped down on the bed, perching on the edge as she took Paul out of her pocket to look at him. “Welcome home! I'm so happy you're finally here!”

  Paul sat in Jen's palm not knowing quite what to say. But true to her character Jen did not let the silence last long. “I've got your tinyhouse all ready for you,” She said. “I've been preparing it for days! I'm going to take good care of you. You know, I was sad when I first learned you shrunk. I really thought you were going to propose to me after graduation. You, always playing it so cool and aloof, but I always knew you felt the same way about me, right?”

  Once again Paul didn't know what to say. It didn't even matter what he felt now—Jen owned him no matter his feelings. “Um...Jen...uh....” Paul fumbled, but Jen kept talking.

  “You know I would have waited for you if you joined the military.” Jen said. “I would have been worried sick, so maybe it is better this way. Yes, it definitely is. You're safe, and I can take care of you forever and ever.”

  “Jen--” Paul began, steeling his courage. He just had to ask this one question: “Was H-Hannah upset when she found out I shrunk? How is she doing?”

  For the first time a look of annoyance flashed across Jen's face. “Hannah's fine,” She said dismissively with the flick of her hand. “And that's my first rule for you: I won't hear another girl's name out of your mouth. Got it? You're my sweet Paul, but you're still my tiny and need to listen to my rules. Got it?”

  “Yes, Jen.” Paul said, defeated. A smile returned to Jen's face.

  “Very good,” Jen beamed. “You're really going to like it here! You don't have to worry about anything; no school, no work, and you'll never have to be lonely! You have all of me to love and explore! I want you to learn every inch of my body, discover every little thing that makes me tick. You would have been the perfect lover; now you're my perfect companion. And all I need is you—I'm selling my other companions. It doesn't matter that you weren't trained as a companion—I didn't like the way my other companions were trained so I had to start over from scratch with all of them. But I'll train you up so well that there won't be any thoughts in your mind except for me and what you can do for me!”

  Jen beamed as if what she had just said was the most innocent and cute statement she could ever make. “Take off your clothes for me, Paul.” Jen said. Paul knew better than to argue. Before, Jen could have only dreamed and schemed about getting Paul to ask her out and then maybe someday they would eventually take off their clothes and have sex. Now, all Jen had to do was order Paul to get undressed, and he had no choice but to obey.

  “You look just like I thought you would,” Jen said, admiring Paul's naked body. “Gosh, I can't wait to feel you on every part of me. My body will be your world!” Jen leaned in and Paul's vision was filled with her full red lips. She pressed his head into them and gave him a massive kiss.

  “You taste so delicious. I could just swallow you up!” Jen giggled. “But really, you're just so perfect. So cute and cuddly and warm. And all for me. Tell me you love me, Paul.”

  “I love you, Jen.” Paul said, dispassionately resigning himself to surrender for all time to Jen.

  “I love you too, Paul!” Jen oozed. “Now what do you say we consummate this bond of ours? I bet you're just dying to see what I look like under my clothes! I'm going to put you all around my body—I have nothing else to do today so we can spend all day at it. Here we go!”

  And with that Jen put Paul down on the bed and slowly began to strip in what she thought was a teasing, erotic show. And as he looked up at the girl who now owned him he fully understood that he would never again be anything else but Jen's companion and toy. Hannah, Katelyn, Bethany, his own family and his old friends; they no longer existed for him. And on that moment he fully became a tiny and accepted that he would never again worry about his own future and embrace the peaceful nihilism of his new existence.

  The end.