Miriel giggled as she gripped a struggling Bertram with her toes, “What’s that I feel poking my sole?” she inquired, gently squeezing him and causing him to grunt, “hard again? Humans truly are insatiable!”
“Grow me back!” he shouted, eagerly looking up the bed at the naked elf, now a massive colossus stretching over the field that was the bed. She had a slight sheen of sweat on her brow, and her elven blonde hair was mussed, the tips sticking together slightly in darkened points. After the first two rounds in the bed with her, he’d given in and asked her to make him tiny, something she’d eagerly done.
Now he was pinched between a pair of elven toes the size of his torso, subject to the giggling grin of his elven lover while she casually played with him. Her feet were as soft as a fine robe, the skin causing him to gasp as his erection made contact with her soles as she manipulated him easily back and forth, casually toying with him. Her feet had a floral lilac scent, and he wondered if she just naturally smelled like that, or if it was the remains of whatever soap or perfume she’d last used.
“Seriously Miriel, grow me back, let’s go again!” in response she casually separated her toes, letting him fall to the bed. Her soft elven sole moved to pin him against the sheets, a silk cloud smothering him in the scent of lilacs as she sighed.
“I think I’m spent,” she giggled, her fingers slowly tracing through the patch of blonde hair just above her womanhood, “but that’s no reason to leave my little human pet without relief…”
Bertram gasped as the soft skin on the bottom of her foot slowly moved against him, stimulating him as her toes held his head in place like a floral scented vice. She was just slowly scrunching her foot back and forth over him, but from his perspective it was like a powerful lover forcefully grinding against him, pinning him down like a bug and forcefully pleasuring him.
“Miriel!” he gasped, pushing at her toes with all his might. They didn’t even budge of course, he couldn’t be more than three or four inches tall, her foot stretched over him like a blanket, the slow meticulous movement of her scrunching sole easily driving him towards climax.
“Oh stop squirming,” she giggled, “ravaging an elf’s foot, or rather being ravaged by an elf’s foot, is a core part of the human experience when our species meet.” She grinned as his eyes rolled back and his hips started involuntarily moving against her sole as she kept going. “I can see the fun in this, I’m just giving my foot the slightest little movement, barely doing anything at all, and look at you! You’re wiggling around like a worm, going nuts!” She sighed, leaning back on the pillow, “it really does make me feel powerful… in charge, you know?”
Bertram could really only moan in response as her foot continued it’s slow demolition of his conscious thought, dissolving them into pure pleasure as the elf casually rubbed her soft sole back and forth over him. Miriel closed her eyes, smiling as she felt her tiny human pet gasp and struggle one final time, just the barest hint of something wet squirting against the sole of her foot as she mercilessly continued her slow methodical scrunching, back and forth, back and forth, each little movement of her foot caused another squeak of pleasure and another bucking of Bertram’s hips against the sole of her foot as his orgasm was extended beneath the elf’s feet. After several minutes of this he was crying for mercy, and finally Miriel stopped, her toes separating and releasing his body as he lay there, covered in his own seed and still smelling the lilac scented skin of the elf’s foot as its essence clung to his face.
“Another nice thing about making you humans finish when you’re small is there isn’t much cleanup,” Miriel giggled, running a single finger along her sole and easily scooping off the tiny droplets. She stuck her finger in her mouth, sucking briefly, before looking down to him. “What do you say to another bath in the sink before we rejoin the others? You could use it, and if your little soldier salutes again, I can put him at ease… what do you say?”
“Uh huh,” Bertram nodded, still panting as the giant elf’s fingers scooped below his back, cradling him in her hand as she walked to the room’s sink. Elves, he thought, are very dangerous… and not just because of the magic.
…
“So it’s agreed then,” Shelby said with a nod, “I’ll have the guards waiting in the building across the street, Christina you will lure this Goblin in, and you elves will block her magic and restrain her for the arrest.”
“Four elves should be overkill for a goblin mage,” Tyrael nodded, “but I must ask… once your guards flood the room and take everyone into custody, what happens to us elves then?”
Shelby sighed, “you must understand, as an agent of your own government, I can’t just let you go…” Tyrael nodded and Shelby continued, “I’m certain that someone from the capital will want to speak to you, but I will advocate for your release at every opportunity… until then, you’ll remain under house arrest at my home, I have several spare rooms I don’t use anyway, it should be quite comfortable.”
“If there is one thing we elves have, it’s time,” Tyrael said with a nod. She smiled, “I suppose we’ll be your houseguests, honestly it sounds like a welcome reprieve from the viper’s nest of politics waiting for me back home.”
“Are things really so bad there?” Shelby asked, curious.
Tyrael rubbed her temples, “Let’s just say that the question of how we elves should relate to the rest of the world, humans in particular, is a heated topic of debate, one I expect to be resolved through violence at some point…”
Shelby was quiet a moment, “you could appeal to the Imperial army for help, I’m sure they would-“
Tyrael laughed, “Shelby my dear, I like humans, but I don’t see a legion of your musketmen putting my preferred candidate on the Elven throne as a positive outcome… whatever decisions the elves are going to make, we’ll make them on our own.”
Shelby nodded, “respectable… I’ll go gather the guards.” The inquisitor turned to leave.
“I suppose I should go track down our Goblin, or at least one of her minions,” Christina muttered, “I’m warning you, she has a surprising number of thugs that owe her favors, once this goes off, I’m hiding until it’s over.” She followed Shelby out the door, then paused, “you elves better not mess up this store! It’s all I’ve got, and I know exactly how much of everything there is on those shelves, so don’t eat or take anything unless you’re going to pay for it!”
“We’ll try to contain our appetites,” Tyrael said in an amused tone. She felt a squirming beneath her toes as Christina left, and with a grin she leaned down to unlace her boot.
“Are you going to let the human out mistress?” one of her apprentices asked eagerly.
“That’s up to him,” Tyrael said, laying her boot sideways on the table while her apprentices looked over her shoulders eagerly.
The tiny candlemaker slowly crawled out on all fours, a dazed and flushed look on his face. Tyrael couldn’t help but notice the man’s pants were missing, and she chuckled, realizing now what the flurry of movement when he’d been first dropped in had been about. He cleared his throat and stood up, looking up at the three elven giants with a forced scowl.
“As you can see elf, I am still ready to defy you, even if you throw me in your shoe for-“
“You’re right,” Tyrael said with a sigh, “clearly you are too strong willed, I’m going to release you and vow to never put another human in my sweaty boots while I walk around ever again, and neither will either of my apprentices. I’ll even cast an enchantment on you to protect you from shrinking spells so no other elf will ever be able to shrink you again.”
The man’s eyes went wide in horror, “N-Now just so you are aware, I’m privy to many important military secrets,” he stammered in an obvious lie, “and now you’ll never get them-“
“What’s your name?” Tyrael asked, cutting him off.
“A-Arthur Mistress,” he replied.
“Well Arthur, I’m growing tired of the charade, if you want us to continue playing with you, you’ll have to ask… politely.” Tyrael grinned at the human’s discomfort, and behind her the pair of apprentices giggled, waiting for the human’s answer.
He was quiet a moment, his face red, “W-Would you please continue to…” he swallowed, “play with me?”
“What do you think girls?” she asked, glancing back at her apprentices with a smirk, “should we keep him?”
“Oh, can we please Mistress Tyrael?” one asked eagerly.
Tyrael regarded the stunned human, “Do you have any wives, children, lovers?”
“None of that,” the candlemaker, Arthur, breathed, struggling to grasp the conversation going on in front of him.
Tyrael thought a moment, she’d offered to keep him in jest, but his apparent enthusiasm was making the idea tempting…
“What about your shop?” she asked, “you wouldn’t miss it?”
“Spending the last hour in your boot was more enjoyment than I’ve gotten in seven years of running that shop,” he said, falling to his knees, “gods I’m a deviant, I know, but I’ve fantasized about this for… for too long Mistress! I want to be your pet, I want to serve you and be played with by you and-“
“Slow down!” Tyrael laughed, “My apprentices and I study and work out of an isolated observatory in the countryside… we could probably keep a single human hidden, you wouldn’t even need to be small all the time…”
“Aw, but Mistress he’s so fun like this!” one of the apprentices said, plucking him up off the table. She giggled and poked at him, knocking him over into her soft palm.
“I’m sure he agrees,” Tyrael laughed, “but no, if Arthur here comes back with us, he’s spending at least one day a week at his full size… to keep things in perspective… if he wants to come back that is.”
Arthur felt his throat go dry as he thought it over, going to live with them… there isn’t much here to hold me back. His face went red, he’d had embarrassing and shameful fantasies about the elves ever since he’d spent entirely too much time reading about what they would do with their tiny prisoners. A sick part of him had always envied them, a thought he knew was wrong on a dozen levels but couldn’t shake.
“If I don’t like it… could I leave?”
Tyrael shrugged, “it’s going to be a nightmare taking you over the border, particularly after all of this, and it would be a nightmare to go back, but… I’ll do my best to bring you home if you don’t enjoy your time with us.”
“I think he will though,” one of the apprentices said, covering her mouth with a giggle as she watched the reaction the human was having below the waistline.
“I’ll do it!” Arthur said eagerly, “I’ll go back with you! D-Do I have to call you mistress or-“
“It sounds fun, doesn’t it?” Tyrael laughed, “for now just… enjoy the journey,” she reached for him, curling her fingers around him as she brought him up to her face with a grin, “I’ll have to sneak you back with me somewhere… concealed.”
“Y-Your boot again?” he asked weakly, suddenly very aware that he was naked below the belt, his manhood poking between the elf’s fingers.
“Maybe,” Tyrael said with a grin as her apprentices giggled behind her, “we’ll think on it… I’m sure the two of us can brainstorm ideas until it’s time to depart.” She glanced back at the other two elves, “it seems that I have a new reward to bestow upon apprentices who earn my favor… work hard on your spells and studies and you can have some time with my new human here.”
The way the two apprentices leaned in and smiled at him made Arthur just about faint with joy.
…
“So let me see if I understand this,” Nen said, leaning across the tavern table where she’d met Christina, “you’re suggesting you have an elf looking to buy…”
“A shrunken human, yes,” Christina said, “I’ve got a young man who matches the order tied up at my shop… I just need someone to shrink him and bring him to the buyer.”
“Oof,” Nen said as Bula shook her head beside her, “shrinking humans and selling them to elves, that’s a dodgy trade, even for girls like us! I’m kind of surprised you got into it Christina!”
“Well what can I say,” Christina said with a shrug, “I need the gold, and by the way there is a lot of gold in it, we’re talking over a hundred thousand thalers worth…”
Nen’s eyes bulged, “well hells below, I should have gotten into moving humies a long time ago! Elves will pay that much to play with a tiny one?”
“Maybe we should give it a try sometime,” Bula chuckled.
“We split the payout fifty fifty,” Christina said.
“Of course,” Nen said, smiling. From the grin alone Christina could tell that if this were a real deal, she’d never see her half of the buyer’s money.
“It’s agreed then, come to my shop and shrink the human, then get him over the elven border,” Christina said, getting up.
“Give us an hour or so, we’ll be over there,” Nen said, beaming. Christina nodded and got up to leave.
Bula leaned over to her goblin partner as the human left, “if there’s really a hundred thousand thalers in this… I say we take the merch to the buyer and just go someplace else, this whole elven border thing is getting too risky for my taste.”
“I’m thinking you’re right,” Nen muttered, “it’s too hot here, this is our last one in this province.”
“Where are we going next?” Bula asked curiously.
“Baldania maybe,” Nen said, “that new king Alfred or Albert or something, they say he’s really spruced the place up, people actually have money to buy stuff there now, illegal stuff even, and with the imperial border right there… well, I’m sure we could set up a new smuggling ring easily enough. Nen and Bula, duty free imports!”
Bula chuckled, “sounds good to me… what about Christina?”
“What about her?” Nen asked, “you think we should rub her out while we’re there?”
Bula shrugged, “might be good not to have anyone know where we went…”
Nen grinned, “I’ll see about finding some cutthroats, a few of the nastier sorts in this tavern do owe me some favors…”
…
“Do I have to have a bag on my head?” Bertram asked. He was tied and bound, sitting in the middle of Christina’s store while she and the elves tightened the knots.
“She might recognize you otherwise,” Christina said, “if she was the one who shrank you before that is…”
“You’re supposed to be a human enslaved, ready to be shrunk and sold to a presumably cruel Elven owner,” Tyrael said, “try to sob or something.”
“Oh, Bertram’s not afraid of being shrunk by elves anymore,” Miriel giggled, planting a quick kiss on his forehead through the burlap bag they’d thrown over his head.
“Well, he’d better act like it anyway,” Christina growled. She paused a moment, “didn’t you elves have another human-“
“We regrew him and let him go,” Tyrael said smoothly. Her apprentices shared looks and a knowing giggle, and Christina raised an eyebrow as Tyrael patted the seat of her pants, as though fixing something, or someone, in place…
Whatever, I’ll let Shelby deal with that, Christina thought with a sigh, better some candlemaker than me.
There was a knock on the door, and they all went quiet. Christina nodded at the four elves, and they disappeared into the back storage room as she stood up and sighed. She quickly checked the holdout pistol up her sleeve, a tiny little thing that wouldn’t stop most men, and certainly not an orc, but maybe would be enough if a goblin started acting dangerous.
Calm down, she told herself, you’ve got four elven mages in the back room, and a dozen guards across the street… you can do this.
She opened the door, and Nen walked in with Bula right behind her as usual. The tiny goblin sniffed dismissively as she walked in, and Christina’s heart sunk as a trio of rough looking men followed her, each with knives and pistols on their belts.
Oh gods, she’s actually going to try it, she realized, she hadn’t thought Nen had it in her to outright kill a witness like this, but the smile the goblin gave her had no warmth in it.
“So this is the human your customer wanted?” she asked, gesturing to the tied and covered Bertram.
“Let me go, please, I can’t go back to those elves!” Bertram said in a fairly convincing panicked tone.
“So he’s an escaped one?” Nen chuckled, holding up her hands to prepare the shrinking spell, “that’s funny…”
“So have you shrunk any humans before?” Christina asked nervously as the goblin approached Bert.
“Oh yeah,” Nen laughed, she muttered a few words, then Bertram yelped in surprise as he shot down to a tiny, and increasingly familiar, size. He felt the floor shake slightly as the now massive goblin approached, and he tensed as he felt pudgy fingers wrap around him, lifting him up. He panicked slightly, he hadn’t expected Christina to actually let the goblin touch him, but as the hood was pulled off his head he could see why, a pair of rough looking men had her by each arm, and her eyes were wide with panic.
“Hmm… a cute human,” Nen mused, rotating him in her hand, “Now-“ she paused, squinting her eyes, “wait a minute…” her expression went sour, “I know you, you’re the human from the alley!” her pointed green ears twitched furiously, “what’s going on here!?”
“You’re putting down my human!” Miriel shouted, bursting from the back room with the other three elves behind her, fireballs in hand.
Nen gulped nervously, then forced a smile, “Boys, bury these knife ears!” Bertram’s world became a mass of soft green flesh as the goblin tucked him down into her open top, the enormous jiggling green breasts instantly swallowed him up as he squirmed feebly. He fought for breath, and a wild part of him wondered if he was going to die smothered in goblin titflesh.
There are worse ways to die, a wild part of him thought as her movements jostled him about. He blinked in the dark confines of the goblin’s cleavage, and wondered if all of this shrinking business was driving him a little mad. Get the ropes off, he thought, working on the knots with his delicate thief’s fingers, worry about your sanity later.
Gunshots rang out as the thugs tried to kill the elves, but Tyrael’s apprentices manifested blue shields, easily stopping the bullets in air. This time instead of lurching backwards they managed to stop them several feet from their bodies, and Tyrael couldn’t help but grin at their improvement.
Miriel shouted a battle cry, casting a lightning bolt that knocked Bula the orc back against the wall, cracking the window. She stood up with a grin, drawing a large axe from behind her back.
“Orcs are pretty resistant to that elemental magic you elves are so fond of,” Bula growled, “you’ll have to do a bit better than that-“
Miriel reached out with tendrils of air, whipping the axe from the orcs grip and causing the flat side to fly through the air, smacking her roughly. The green woman crumpled to the ground with a groan.
Nen scowled and summoned up her own magic, ready to put the small elf in her place, when Tyrael suddenly loomed over her. Nen’s ears drooped as she felt the raw magical energy emanating from the archmage, she’d have gladly taken on any of the other three elves present, but this one was on another level.
Let’s see you throw a fireball through this! She thought angrily, pulling Bertram from her cleavage and holding him up. As she’d expected Tyrael paused, the lightning in her hands dimming slightly. Nen grinned and threw her own fireball, causing Tyrael to stumble back with a grunt as she absorbed the goblin’s spell.
The door behind them burst open, and Shelby strode into the room with two raise pistols, a dozen human guards with guns behind her, “Hands in the air, now!” the inquisitor shouted.
Nen’s heart sank as she saw Bula and her hirelings throwing their hands up, not me, she decided. She dove, sliding under the elf’s legs, stumbling to her feet and sprinting for the back door of the shop. Christina flourished her wrist, and a second later a tiny pistol was in her hand, but Nen dove for it, prying it from the screaming shopkeeper’s hand as she reached the back storeroom.
Sorry Bula, she thought, but it’s every greenskin for herself!
Miriel ran after her, the pair stumbled out into the alley as Miriel manged to tackle the goblin, “give me Bertram right now!” she screamed, forgoing magic and slapping the goblin across the face as hard as she could.
For Nen’s part, she hadn’t forgotten her spells, and with an angry howl she blasted Miriel off herself with a bolt of green energy. She stumbled up, rubbing her cheek as the elf took a battle stance.
“Let me go or I’ll end you, I mean it!” Nen shouted.
“Give it up, you’ll never beat an elf!” Miriel shouted, a trio of blue orbs rotating around her as she prepared her next spell.
Nen chuckled, now this elf she was confident against, she was strong sure, but inexperienced, then again, why fight fair if I can just use the human again?
“Get out of here elf, or I’ll crush your little friend between my tits!” she looked down and pressed a hand to either side of her impressive breasts, preparing to pulp the trapped human, when she frowned. “Wait, where’s-“
There was a click, and she looked to her left, down on the ground. Her eyes went wide as she saw the three-inch Bertram, aiming the holdout pistil like a cannon up at her, hugging the trigger with his entire body. There was a *pop* and a puff of smoke, then Nen shouted in pain as she stumbled backwards, clutching her side. The impact knocked the tiny gun backwards, bowling over Bertram and throwing him to the dirt with a grunt.
“Ha!” Miriel cried in triumph, sending tendrils of energy out to wrap the goblin, pinning her to the wall just as Shelby and her guards ran out into the alley. She flicked her wrist, leaving the energy in place as the guards approached the wounded goblin with manacles and chains. With a smile she walked over to Bertram, who was getting to his feet with a grin.
“I may not know anything about spellcraft, but I found something almost as good,” he said, kicking the holdout pistol lightly. The tiny gun was almost as big as he was, and his arms ached from the exertion of lifting and firing it.
“How did you get that?” Miriel asked with a laugh.
“She dropped me and the gun when you tackled her,” Bertram said, “can you restore me now? I’ve had enough of being tiny for one day.”
A mischievous grin stretched across Miriel’s features, “oh I’m just pooped though, no magic left!”
Bertram sighed, “it wasn’t even that long of a duel, go get your sister then!”
“No no,” Miriel said, bending down and picking him up, “it wouldn’t be right to bother her after such a strenuous fight.” She slowly slipped Bertram into her own cleavage and grinned, “far more comfortable than the goblin, no?”
“Please,” Nen coughed as the guards held a bandage to the small gunshot wound, “you can barely keep him warm with those mosquito bites elf!”
Miriel shot an angry glance at her, “I want to snuggle my tiny human, not smother him you cow!”
“Leave them alone goblin,” Shelby chided, “someone as small as you should perhaps be more worried about who her cellmate is going to be!”
“Please, I’ll be running your jail in a week!” Nen shouted angrily, “where’s Bula, is she okay?”
“You ran!” the orc said angrily as the guards led her and the other thugs out, “what happened to thick as thieves?”
“All the thick thieves are in jail,” Bertram laughed, letting himself sink deeper between the elven breasts. He disappeared into her cleavage, as weariness from the days events overtook him, and soon he was hidden from sight, becoming entrapped in a different kind of prison, one that was soft, warm, and lilac scented.