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.