“Okay. And then what happened?” Samantha ordered with a glint in her eye, a broad smile already spread ear-to-ear to display her glistening pearly whites through the fuzzy filtering of the laptop monitor. She brushed one of her jet-black bangs away from her heavily shadowed eyes, wrinkling her cute button nose, and leaned in closer to the webcam to get a better look at the shrunken liar who currently stood on the other end of her digitized chat program.
“Well… then she sat on me. All the way,” Tom admitted cheekily in reference to his English teacher, twiddling his thumbs behind his back as he gazed into the lens of his own camera where it sat propped up on the carpet to capture every angle of his three-inch body for the fetishistic pleasure of his online friend.
“Hot. For a long time?”
“Yep. The whole class.”
“And did that go how she wanted it to? The lesson.”
“Uhh… no, not really. She… actually kinda threatened to, uh…”
“What? Threatened to what?”
“…stick me in her ass the next time I shrink in front of her,” Tom admitted, shakily at first but swelling with pride at the mention, against all odds, as he watched the light in his digital pen pal’s eyes glow brighter.
“Wow,” Samantha breathed. “That’s fantastic. Can’t say I’m not jealous, though. Of her, not you, obviously.” She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest and angling her violet Converse upon the desk with a rubbery thump of the instep.
Tom could only fidget with mounting arousal to be able to study the zigzagging treads on the girl’s massive footwear that, he was quite sure, would waste no time in pinning him into the carpet with unforgiving pressure if he and his normal-sized companion happened to be in the same room right now rather than on regrettably opposite sides of the country.
He knew just how she’d do it, too, as she’d described it many a time. Shifting her weight from the ball of her foot, into her arch, and finally to the heel, she’d roll him from end to end, making him aware of every part of his body in turn as it was continually mashed under her crushing weight of the hexagonal cells. Not enough to break bones, but certainly enough to make them talk with a series of creaks and groans, and the rest of him would be imprinted with the loops and lines of her treads for weeks after.
Tom noticed what looked like the tiny black stain of an insect long-ago liquefied and melded into the ridged landscape that made up the bottom of Samantha’s shoe, its general shape the only thing it was allowed to preserve of its being after being integrated into the violent sandwich of gravel and earth-moving rubber. Though he could do without the “death” part of the equation involved, he couldn’t help but imagine himself replacing that tiny smear beneath his friend’s foot. Already his pants were beginning to tent.
“Tell me something, Tomboy. Because I’m honestly curious,” Samantha said, having savored the sight of the boy staring reverently at her shoes for long enough. “Can you be truthful with me right now?”
“No problem!” Tom said as he was yanked from focus, instantly being robbed of another half-inch before the girl’s eyes. “I mean. I’ll try.”
She shrugged it off, only shaking her head, and continued on: “Aren’t you worried about people finding out the truth about you?”
“Truth about what?” Tom asked innocently.
“You know,” she chuckled. “That you like to shrink?”
For a few moments there was only silence as Tom bathed in the monitor’s stinging luster and sat on the dusty floor of the basement closet where he kept his laptop and webcam: the only place he could safely hide in the night to have these forbidden conversations about even more forbidden topics with his friend Samantha, a girl he’d never met in real life but who knew him more deeply than any other person on the planet.
“Yes,” he said after the pause had gone on long enough. He swallowed hard, his throat so dry it felt like choking down a marble, and struggled to wrest the truth out of his mouth as promised. “Yes I am.”
Not even a hair’s width was lost in his stature.
“It wouldn’t be pretty if people found out,” Samantha commented. “You might not even get the chance to talk to me anymore.”
“I know. I’d hate that,” Tom admitted sheepishly, again retaining his size as he crept across the keyboard to be closer to the girl’s adorable gothic-tinged countenance onscreen. He pressed a hand to the warm plasma of the interface, wishing he could be placing his palm against her massive lower lip.
“Me too,” she said. “What would you do, though? If someone ever found out.”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’ve never thought that far. I’m afraid, I guess.”
“Someone’s probably bound to find out someday, though. They all know how to take advantage of you already. What’s to stop them from wondering aloud if you just enjoy what they do to you?”
“Nothing,” Tom said. “Nothing at all.”
“Because… you do enjoy what people do to you, when you’re shrunken. When you’re punished. Your mom, your siblings, your teacher, your friends… you like that, don’t you?” Samantha asked, genuinely concerned but also slightly aroused at the prospect as she leaned further into the webcam to make her face appear even larger on Tom’s display, just how he liked it. She lapped a slithering tongue along the rim of her lips, coating them in saliva and giving Tom something to drool over as he watched the plush pink flesh compressing under the heft of her red muscle, studded with that beaded piercing they both adored so much.
“Yes,” Tom breathed heavily, wishing now more than ever that he could break through the fiberglass dimensions separating him from Samantha and splash headlong into the cave of her moist maw. “Yes. I like it.”
And again, Tom remained exactly at two and a half inches. If the universe and its accompanying laws of nature functioned differently, in fact, he might’ve actually gained height at this mortal admission of his.
“You like it when people make you their little itty bitty bitch, don’t you?” Samantha continued slyly, by now having just gotten into their usual taunting games but still desiring to hear these rare truths come from Tom’s pathetically tiny mouth. She was already fumbling with the gilded belt of her designer jeans below the view of the camera, her hands descending and tugging back the waistband of her panties to reach her already-pulsing nethers. “You wish you could be their miniature play-toy all day long. Every. Single. Minute.”
“Yes,” Tom gulped hollowly, by now having meekly lowered himself onto his haunches due to the strength-sapping erection he now had. Luckily, prostration before Samantha was a perfectly acceptable position to both of them. “Yes, I do wish that.”
“Oh, God,” Samantha huffed. “Little boy, do you know what I’d do with you if I had you in my hands right now?” The girl raised her right arm up, brushing her palm and each of her black-painted fingertips along the camera just to give Tom an extra-special close-up of her textured digits.
“No. Please tell me.”
“I’d put you right in here,” she teased. Her tongue flicked once more of the corner of her mouth before sliding back inside as she slurped her thumb over the slippery ridge of her lips, sucking it inside. “Roll you around for a little while under my tongue, get you nice and lubed up, and then…”
“And then?” Tom gasped. His voice had devolved into a shallow whisper as his entire focus was devoted to the dark angel onscreen.
Samantha’s fingertip traced along her lips, then steadily began a winding path down her body, tracing between her breasts, along her stomach, and toward the tangle of her jeans and panties as they slid down her pale thighs. Her slender digit brushed through the curly mess of her pubes, already globbed with anticipatory ejaculate, and crested through the flowery pink lips that Tom so longed to enter with his entire being.
“…and then…” the girl repeated achingly. “Well, I don’t think I’d need to tell you. I think you know the truth when you see it. Don’t you, Tomboy?”
“Yes,” he sighed, letting another rare piece of honesty be coaxed out of his throat like a sacred song. “Yes I do.”